May 2018

The 1st of May.  The night before, I had a poor night’s sleep. I envisioned that our consulate review would occur in a stark room, at a table, with a severe looking person across from us, firing a multitude of difficult questions.

We had poured over the packet from our immigration attorney, putting all the documents in order of the list he indicated in his introductory letter to the consulate, sectioned with paperclips. We picked our clothes out carefully and shined our shoes.

That morning, G was going over the website of the consulate before leaving and spotted that they required two colored passport pictures. We did not have them and did not have any time to take care of it. I almost hyperventilated at the thought we would not make it. G found a place around the block that would take the pictures and print them on the spot. We zipped over, got that done and went on to the consulate. When we went into the entrance, after passing security, we were surprised that the space resembled the DMV. There were a small number of chairs, facing three windowed, sectioned counters. Once seated, we watched as people went up with their documents when called, and were answering questions as they handed over the paperwork. Some were having to re-examine their parcels for more paperwork and clearly finding in some cases that they were lacking required items.

When they called us up, we slid the packet through the window. There were two people, one was being trained by the other, as we were informed. The main person looked over the introductory letter with a pleased expression and turning to the other would point out items that they needed. Then, following the index our attorney had provided and going through our paper clipped sections, they methodically went through the checklist of their own, ticking off each item as they went. They asked only two questions; Do you speak French? To which we answered that we were learning, our tutor thought we were doing fine but we still felt like idiots. They laughed at that. Then they asked; How long do you wish to stay in France? We stated we were hoping to stay 2 to 3 years. Apparently there were two long term visas; one which expired in a year and required your return to the US or a second that was renewable for another year, from France. We asked and were granted the second visa.

It was over and took about 10 minutes. We were instructed to return the following week to pick up our passports and visas. Mentally hugging our attorney, we returned home and collapsed. With two more weeks to go, we had to address every last task which was listed and posted on the wall.

The hardest things were done – packing, packing fragile things, the mound of paperwork for the most part, completed. Every day we worked on the list and every day complications came up that we dealt with. It became a game of Whack A Mole. We got a permit for the truck and trailer to be parked on the street, borrowed traffic cones and lastly, had the car washed to prepare to sign it over.

The morning of the 14th, G took off to pick up the truck and trailer but came back with neither. In reserving the truck and trailer online, the site may book them at separate locations if they are not available at the one closest to you. As a result, we were to pick up the truck, load it and then we were to drive an hour away to get the trailer hitched on with the car. In discussing the problem and timing on the way back to pick up the truck, we came to the conclusion that it would be simpler to drive separately to Oregon. It would be difficult and tiring but we could do it. So we canceled the trailer, picked up the truck, went back to load it and were done within the hour. The place was clean and empty, the truck and car packed and ready to go. So we left.

We arrived to stay at P’s the afternoon of the 15th. A great warm welcome and we unloaded some of the things we were leaving. Dinner was fabulous! P cooked Shabu Shabu!! We drank and ate and drank some more. Turned in and slept like a log. Did the same the next day and P cooked some outstanding ribs!

On the 17th we drove to storage but regardless of leaving plenty of time, were held up by traffic and arrived 15 minutes late. The company we dealt with had released the laborers we had reserved and had to scramble for more. The two men arrived, one young and muscular but not a quick thinker. The other was older, shuffled when he walked with a stoop and missing a good many teeth. I was skeptical until they set to work. The younger did most of the lifting but the older one instructed him how to pack the things in storage. It was a tight fit and they did a great job.

Back at P’s, we were met with more relatives and had a great time with everyone. More eating, more drinking and a movie. Then the next day, we said goodbye to B & C, watching them drive away and hoping to see them again. We took P out to dinner – a pitiful thank you for such great hospitality. The next morning we drove further to visit A for a couple of days. We dropped off items A was keeping. Staying at a hotel, we took our fabulous friend and realtor T, to dinner. Another day our great property manager K, to a happy hour. It was wonderful to be able to take the time to thank people who had made our lives easier. In between, we were still dealing with mail screw ups and transfer issues. Somethings would just not be quietly taken care of.

Said goodbye to A, a bit blue to wave goodbye. We stayed overnight before driving to WA to take our flight out.

May I interject at this point that adjusting from one bag each to a total of 13 bags is enough to paralyze you. We even took a picture of us standing behind it with just our faces poking about the pile. When we got up to the airline counter to check in our baggage, we were told that it was incorrect that any of the bags could weigh over 32 lbs. The behemoth bag weighed close to 50 lbs because the website said the limit was 70 lbs. In a frantic dash, G found a store and bought two smaller luggages and we split up the contents. In actuality, he brought one and we determined we needed another, so he repeated the dash. Now we had 15 bags total. With all of the luggage that needed to be checked in taken care of, we tootled to the airline lounge with our carry-on’s which was much more manageable and collapsed.

Then it was a 7.5 hour flight to Reykjavik and another 3 to France.  We arrived after 12:30 local time and loaded all 15 pieces on a taxi van. Luckily we fit but G had asked for an SUV. At the hotel, the elevator was a two person elevator but at least we were lucky to have one. Taking the luggage up in shifts, we finally got all of them in the room in 5 trips. There were a few steps up even after the elevator and I managed to hurt my back on one of the trips.  The room was just big enough for the bed and our suitcases.

We wandered down the street, seeing areas that we had seen on our last trip, two winters ago. It was comfortingly familiar. Back at the hotel, we napped and woke up to a wonderful thunderstorm. Grabbed our umbrellas and went out to find an open restaurant at 11pm. G had a creamy salmon pasta plate and I had Osso Bucco, topped with a bottle of D’avalo red. Very satisfying. The rain had stopped and we slipped into bed about midnight.

In the two days that followed, while we waited to be able to access the apartment, we took care of some phone details. We checked out where the apartment was located, walked the neighborhood to become familiar with it, took naps, read and emailed. But it was 05/31 and we were in France!