He only got his visa yesterday: the people at the visa office dont rise until 0930: "Sure, you can collect eet. We are open from 10 until one. Gringo". Now three and half hours from Devon to central London is a tall order on a good day, but we had to try, or he would be hanging around with all his luggage tomorrow trying to pick it up and then get to Heathrow. I almost thought we might make it. Then 5 miles from the M25 the queue started (overturned lorry on the southbound slip). He rang the visa office: "Hey Gringo, we like a your face. Knock onna tha door after one o'clock, an we mighta joose open eet. Onless we at lunch"). Sighs of relief. Miraculously the Venezuelan Visa Office is fractionally outside the C-Charge area, due to some quirk with the rear entrance to University College Hospital. We collected it at 2.45 pm (I dont think they are actually busy: they didnt ask his name in any telephone call).
So off he goes,
having worked at two jobs all summer, day and night to pay for it. My mum, M and Me contributed with dollars which he wasnt expecting (he never asks for a thing but is always wonderfully thankful when we help him out). His mother, in her castle, failed him this time, unfortunately. The finality of his actually going is quite hard to bear. I will miss badly him as my son, and M will too (also as her domestic ally;-). The gods have looked kindly on him this summer. I hope he doesnt blow it and miss his plane.
I am looking forward to going over to see him next year.
1 comment:
Very touching, matey :)
He'll be fine, as always!
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