Rosey has her visa. I will be starting a CELTA (teaching English qualification) course next Monday, and in preparation I'm going to bed before 12, getting up before 8 and going for a 45 bike ride every morning. The last time I went to bed before 12 must have been many years ago. All very positive!
Rosey will still have to do another couple of weeks at work and then, she will be going to India for a further two weeks to do a yoga retreat in the first or second week of March. After 8 months, another 2 weeks won't hurt, particularly when she's coming halfway round the world to start a new life. A couple of weeks contemplation with as much time and space as she needs to herself will be no bad thing. And after all the trepidation regarding the long dark nights of the English winter, there'll barely be any difference in daylight between here and Taipei when she arrives, close to the equinox. It'll still be a little colder though.
Having just received the good news, there's not a lot more to say. It will take a little time to sink in but what I can say is that already it feels as if the future is open again.
Showing posts with label visa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label visa. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
How I arrived in Taiwan
With 20 minutes to go, I was getting a little nervous. Having recently cycled from the UK to Singapore, I was full of confidence and had jumped onto a plane at Bangkok without so much as thinking about getting a visa for my destination, Taiwan. The worst they could do was turn me round and send me back and with no money, I reasoned it couldn't be at my expense. Being unprepared couldn't possibly be advantageous, but I didn't care.
As the plane docked, the adrenalin was flowing through my veins. I was enjoying it, not exactly daredevil stuff, but not knowing what would happen made things more interesting. I took my time getting my things together. I never saw the point in standing up for five minutes waiting for the doors to be opened and then for the people in front of you to disembark. Far better to relax and then walk to the front of the aircraft at a comfortable pace. When the crowd thinned, I got my bags together and found a stray package under the seat in front of me. This was less than a year after 9-11 and we all know what we're supposed to do with unattended luggage. The occupant, along with almost everyone else, was long gone. It was a carrier bag with what appeared to be a box of 200 duty free Marlboro cigarettes. Nothing personal or really valuable that I would feel compelled to find the owner of. Theoretically, it could be a bomb, or even elaborately packaged contraband, I supposed. The rule book says play it safe. Sod it, I thought. If they are cigarettes, they're well within the duty free limit and I can sell them in Taipei, although I had no idea what they were worth before or after duty. If I get blown up, I probably won't know much about it. And if it's something else, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
I made my way to passport control, hoping that a. they let me in, b. I didn't get blown up and c. I wasn't an unsuspecting drugs mule. "May I see your passport please, sir?"
"Here you are," I replied, unaware if I even needed a visa.
"Do you have a visa for The Republic of China, sir?" I was just about well informed enough to know that The Republic of China referred to Taiwan, not China.
"No. Do I need one?"
"How long are you planning to stay?"
"...er, I'm not sure. Maybe two or three months."
"And what do you intend to do in The Republic of China?"
"I thought I might teach English," I replied casually.
"I can give you a one week landing visa. If you want to stay longer than that, you will have to leave the country and apply for a visa at one of our overseas missions."
That was better than being turned round and put on a plane immediately, so I was happy. I could find a place to stay, work out what I was doing in Taiwan and then spend more money that I didn't have on a weekend trip to Bangkok. It could be worse. Thus began my totally unplanned 9 years in Taiwan.
Convenience is a watchword in Taiwan. I collected my bags and my bike, walked through arrivals hoping my duty free didn't set off any alarms, glanced around and then walked the few metres to the ticket office for the buses that waited just outside.
"Where would you like to go, sir?" the attractive young lady asked.
"Taipei?" I said tentatively.
"And where would you like to get off?" she continued.
"I'm not sure, I replied. "I need a cheap hotel."
"Taipei Main Station is the best. The driver will tell you when to get off."
I paid the money, thanked her - as yet unable to do it in anything other than English, picked up a few tourist leaflets and stepped through the automatic doors. The tropical heat hit me hard in the face. I breathed deeply and felt the warm, moist air filling my lungs, a stark contrast to the cold, dry air inside the terminal building.
It was immediately clear which bus to get on. The driver checked my ticket, helped me place my still boxed bike in the luggage compartment and I boarded the bus.
I sat on my own, about three quarters of the way down the bus and began to glean what I could from the tourist literature I had picked up. As I was reading, I noticed a girl in her late twenties or early thirties sitting on the opposite side of the bus. With everything to learn, I tried to appear approachable, while not making any particular effort to strike up a conversation.
It wasn't long before she took the lead. "You're new here, aren't you?" Clearly she was not.
"Yes," I replied. "I've just arrived from Thailand." Then, as now, I didn't want the story of my cycling expedition to immediately dominate the conversation. She gave me her card and recommended that I get one made as soon as possible after getting a phone. She told me that I should be able to find work quite easily and that the website tealit.com was a good place to start for most expat things in Taiwan. When the time came to disembark, she said to stay in touch, and wished me luck with my adventures.
It was a few days later when she emailed me to let me know that a room had come up in her rooftop apartment for one month, while its English occupant went for a boozy month watching the world cup in Bangkok. I accepted the offer and moved in within days, making friends that I'd know for all of my time in Taiwan and the Englishman, back in the UK too. It was only later that I discovered that she'd described me to them as "kinda green, fresh off the boat". Having passed through approximately 20 countries en route, I wasn't too bothered!
As the plane docked, the adrenalin was flowing through my veins. I was enjoying it, not exactly daredevil stuff, but not knowing what would happen made things more interesting. I took my time getting my things together. I never saw the point in standing up for five minutes waiting for the doors to be opened and then for the people in front of you to disembark. Far better to relax and then walk to the front of the aircraft at a comfortable pace. When the crowd thinned, I got my bags together and found a stray package under the seat in front of me. This was less than a year after 9-11 and we all know what we're supposed to do with unattended luggage. The occupant, along with almost everyone else, was long gone. It was a carrier bag with what appeared to be a box of 200 duty free Marlboro cigarettes. Nothing personal or really valuable that I would feel compelled to find the owner of. Theoretically, it could be a bomb, or even elaborately packaged contraband, I supposed. The rule book says play it safe. Sod it, I thought. If they are cigarettes, they're well within the duty free limit and I can sell them in Taipei, although I had no idea what they were worth before or after duty. If I get blown up, I probably won't know much about it. And if it's something else, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
I made my way to passport control, hoping that a. they let me in, b. I didn't get blown up and c. I wasn't an unsuspecting drugs mule. "May I see your passport please, sir?"
"Here you are," I replied, unaware if I even needed a visa.
"Do you have a visa for The Republic of China, sir?" I was just about well informed enough to know that The Republic of China referred to Taiwan, not China.
"No. Do I need one?"
"How long are you planning to stay?"
"...er, I'm not sure. Maybe two or three months."
"And what do you intend to do in The Republic of China?"
"I thought I might teach English," I replied casually.
"I can give you a one week landing visa. If you want to stay longer than that, you will have to leave the country and apply for a visa at one of our overseas missions."
That was better than being turned round and put on a plane immediately, so I was happy. I could find a place to stay, work out what I was doing in Taiwan and then spend more money that I didn't have on a weekend trip to Bangkok. It could be worse. Thus began my totally unplanned 9 years in Taiwan.
Convenience is a watchword in Taiwan. I collected my bags and my bike, walked through arrivals hoping my duty free didn't set off any alarms, glanced around and then walked the few metres to the ticket office for the buses that waited just outside.
"Where would you like to go, sir?" the attractive young lady asked.
"Taipei?" I said tentatively.
"And where would you like to get off?" she continued.
"I'm not sure, I replied. "I need a cheap hotel."
"Taipei Main Station is the best. The driver will tell you when to get off."
I paid the money, thanked her - as yet unable to do it in anything other than English, picked up a few tourist leaflets and stepped through the automatic doors. The tropical heat hit me hard in the face. I breathed deeply and felt the warm, moist air filling my lungs, a stark contrast to the cold, dry air inside the terminal building.
It was immediately clear which bus to get on. The driver checked my ticket, helped me place my still boxed bike in the luggage compartment and I boarded the bus.
I sat on my own, about three quarters of the way down the bus and began to glean what I could from the tourist literature I had picked up. As I was reading, I noticed a girl in her late twenties or early thirties sitting on the opposite side of the bus. With everything to learn, I tried to appear approachable, while not making any particular effort to strike up a conversation.
It wasn't long before she took the lead. "You're new here, aren't you?" Clearly she was not.
"Yes," I replied. "I've just arrived from Thailand." Then, as now, I didn't want the story of my cycling expedition to immediately dominate the conversation. She gave me her card and recommended that I get one made as soon as possible after getting a phone. She told me that I should be able to find work quite easily and that the website tealit.com was a good place to start for most expat things in Taiwan. When the time came to disembark, she said to stay in touch, and wished me luck with my adventures.
It was a few days later when she emailed me to let me know that a room had come up in her rooftop apartment for one month, while its English occupant went for a boozy month watching the world cup in Bangkok. I accepted the offer and moved in within days, making friends that I'd know for all of my time in Taiwan and the Englishman, back in the UK too. It was only later that I discovered that she'd described me to them as "kinda green, fresh off the boat". Having passed through approximately 20 countries en route, I wasn't too bothered!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Families, stress and showing your appreciation.
The Wilsdon household is becoming an increasingly stressed place, and there are still nearly two weeks until Christmas!
The reason for this tension above and beyond what is normal for this time of year is that I need my parents help to collate the documents necessary to demonstrate that Rosey will not be a burden on the state, in order that she is granted a settlement visa. We have to demonstrate that Rosey and I will have a roof over our heads and if the worst comes to the worst, she will have some means of support to prevent her from starving.
My parents are very forthcoming with this help and they're both very experienced at dealing with bureaucracy. Hence we have compiled a dossier of documents detailing their permission for us to live here, confirmation that the house is big enough for four without overcrowding and enough financial details to demonstrate that none of us is in any danger of starving.
Since the visa application fee is around £800 with no refund if it's refused, we want to get it right first time.With Rosey and my ability to be together and move forward with our lives at stake, not to mention the money - there is a tendency to over-engineer and we certainly have been dotting every i and crossing every t, to the extent of fretting over the exact wording of our letters and statements, just in case the nice people at the UK Border Agency decide they don't like our use of the past perfect indicative and turn down Rosey's visa application on the advice of the grammar police. With so many different variables, some of them more critical than others, three family members working on them at a distance of 10,000 km from where the actual application will be made, tempers can get a little frayed at times.
Of course the stress of separation from my wife doesn't help my tolerance of difficult situations. I can only hope that I am making a good job of biting my tongue where necessary and that when the time comes, I am suitably demonstrative of my appreciation.
The reason for this tension above and beyond what is normal for this time of year is that I need my parents help to collate the documents necessary to demonstrate that Rosey will not be a burden on the state, in order that she is granted a settlement visa. We have to demonstrate that Rosey and I will have a roof over our heads and if the worst comes to the worst, she will have some means of support to prevent her from starving.
My parents are very forthcoming with this help and they're both very experienced at dealing with bureaucracy. Hence we have compiled a dossier of documents detailing their permission for us to live here, confirmation that the house is big enough for four without overcrowding and enough financial details to demonstrate that none of us is in any danger of starving.
Since the visa application fee is around £800 with no refund if it's refused, we want to get it right first time.With Rosey and my ability to be together and move forward with our lives at stake, not to mention the money - there is a tendency to over-engineer and we certainly have been dotting every i and crossing every t, to the extent of fretting over the exact wording of our letters and statements, just in case the nice people at the UK Border Agency decide they don't like our use of the past perfect indicative and turn down Rosey's visa application on the advice of the grammar police. With so many different variables, some of them more critical than others, three family members working on them at a distance of 10,000 km from where the actual application will be made, tempers can get a little frayed at times.
Of course the stress of separation from my wife doesn't help my tolerance of difficult situations. I can only hope that I am making a good job of biting my tongue where necessary and that when the time comes, I am suitably demonstrative of my appreciation.
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