Well in order to get the working holiday visa, one must get their fingerprints scanned at a British consulate before the application is sent off. So on Friday night I was informed that my appointment was at 10:30 on Monday morning at 9/100 Eagle St Brisbane etc. That's fine, I thought, I'll drive up on Sunday and stay the night at my aunty's house. She wasn't going to be there but her housemate was happy for me to stay.
But golly it was a bit stressful. I don't have the best sense of direction and it's hard navigating on your own with just a few print outs from google maps...
I caught up with a friend in Ipswich which was nice; I ended up staying for church with him as well. It was a young, groovy, Presbyterian service which meant a youth band and much use of the word 'connect.'
After that I headed up to my aunty's house, which is not in the centre of the city where I ended up. I actually drove past Eagle St which was a bit ironic, but after a phone call I was on the right track and soon having a glass of milk and calling Mum to tell her I'd made it. Then I went to bed.. Gosh Queensland is warm.
The next day I bustled into the city again in my dusty camry (can I say, he did 800kms on 60L of petrol on this trip. I will miss him when I go!). I almost went through a toll tunnel (tunnel!?! I want to go over the river!) but the signs are pretty good and I knew what to follow. The next problem, after crossing the Story Bridge, was finding a park. That's funny, I accidentally typed 'funding' and that would be relevant too - the place I found cost $46 for an hour and fifteen minutes.
Finding the British consulate was simple. I arrived early and was called straight away. I sat down in the interview room in front of a glass panel and handed over my forms and passport. The guy looked up and said 'My granddaughter in the UK is Jessica Hunt, when I read this I was like "hmm?" and had to think.' Then I got my fingerprints scanned on this spacey little machine that looked like a docket printer mixed with an alien x-ray machine (being alien because the scanning area was clear green). My photo was taken then I was back in the elevator (I hate elevators) and back onto the street to find my...
Oh flip. My car. I hadn't taken any notice of the street the car park was on. If you've been to the centre of Brisbane you'll know that car parks are small and tucked away under skyscrapers or on little lane ways. I remembered vaguely the name of it but it literally took me forty five minutes of walking up and down and across streets to find it again. By then I was almost at the point of asking somebody but every second person was an all-important looking businessman or businesswoman and every other person had an ipod or a hurried expression. Strangers don't come across as very friendly in the city.
Then it was back onto the motorways following signs out of there. Thank goodness! The drive home wasn't very fun; I had a headache and was still diluting stressyness through my system. I finished listening to The Outsiders on audio (it's one of my favourite books) and that was nice, but Mum said when I got home that I as white as a sheet. I certainly felt awful.
I'm much better today. I've sent my application off to the British High Commission and I thought that would alleviate more stress than it has, but I'll still have to wait two or more weeks to know if I have a visa! Eek. Let's all hope and pray that the exchange rate doesn't budge and my bank statement will still meet the mark. Don't ask me what happens if it gets refused, I don't know and hopefully I won't have to.
Now I'll keep on going with sorting and packing my things! And crafty stuff, and people time, and doing all I can to make sure the garden stays alive while I'm away. Right now I think I might henna my hands...
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