Doug
August 5th, 2006, 02:33
Getting my Thai tourist visa.
On the hottest day of the summer here in Toronto - 36c or 44 hunidex - I decided to go to the Thai consulate to apply for my tourist visa. I had downloaded, printed and completed the required form. I had a shit, shower, shave, shampoo and shine then donned my smartest casual clothes....to make the right impression, you know. I pocketed my passport, wallet, birth certificate, extra photos, and anything else I thought the bureaucrats might ask me for. I then ventured out onto the steamy streets that would make any issan boy feel at home.
I took the subway downtown and made my way to 77 King St. - one of To's tallest. There were at least 20 elevators all with different destinations. I was heading to the 41st floor so I had to take the escalator down on level to where the lifts for the odd floors departed. A little searching and I was boarding the elevator that would take me to the odd floors 39 to 51.
At floor 41 I found an impressive lobby for some financial company but no indication of a Thai consulate. Nevertheless the receptionist was definitely a Thai lady so I approached the desk with my application, passport and $40 in hand. "I'm here to apply for a Thai visa."
"Oh no, not here" You must go up 2 floors." I checked my application and it definitely indicated the 41st floor but off I went, ever higher.
Similar to the 41st, the 43 floor gave no indication of a Thai consulate as I approached the desk. Explaining my needs, the lady handed me a piece of paper. I pointed out that I had the application all completed as I thrust the now wilting package towards her. "No no, you must go here", she said pointing to the paper.
The paper said to go to 21 Adelaide St. for Thai visas. Fleetingly I wondered why the lady at the first reception desk couldn't have handed me the instructions. Nevertheless off I went to the next street over to find number 21. There it was, a large number over an impressive entrance at the top of a set of stairs.
"Are you here for an interview?" I was asked at the reception table in a very spartan, temporary-looking lobby. I explained my quest. "Oh no, not here. You must go back down stairs and around the corner." Of course on retracing my steps, I went the wrong way around the corner. A weary attendant pointed me the way.
The plain doorway led to a courier office. Hesitantly I asked where I might apply for a Thai visa. "Certainly sir, right here", said Jim in his smart one-piece uniform with name emblazoned. Quickly he took my stuff, put it in a envelop and gave me a receipt. "It'll be ready in 2 or 3 days."
I explained to him the circuitous route I had taken to get to him. "Yea," he said, "The Thai consulate officials don't like to meet with people if they can avoid it".
On thinking it over, I suspect it was all a subtle way of introducing farangs to an important facet of Thai culture. TIT. Toronto style.
On the hottest day of the summer here in Toronto - 36c or 44 hunidex - I decided to go to the Thai consulate to apply for my tourist visa. I had downloaded, printed and completed the required form. I had a shit, shower, shave, shampoo and shine then donned my smartest casual clothes....to make the right impression, you know. I pocketed my passport, wallet, birth certificate, extra photos, and anything else I thought the bureaucrats might ask me for. I then ventured out onto the steamy streets that would make any issan boy feel at home.
I took the subway downtown and made my way to 77 King St. - one of To's tallest. There were at least 20 elevators all with different destinations. I was heading to the 41st floor so I had to take the escalator down on level to where the lifts for the odd floors departed. A little searching and I was boarding the elevator that would take me to the odd floors 39 to 51.
At floor 41 I found an impressive lobby for some financial company but no indication of a Thai consulate. Nevertheless the receptionist was definitely a Thai lady so I approached the desk with my application, passport and $40 in hand. "I'm here to apply for a Thai visa."
"Oh no, not here" You must go up 2 floors." I checked my application and it definitely indicated the 41st floor but off I went, ever higher.
Similar to the 41st, the 43 floor gave no indication of a Thai consulate as I approached the desk. Explaining my needs, the lady handed me a piece of paper. I pointed out that I had the application all completed as I thrust the now wilting package towards her. "No no, you must go here", she said pointing to the paper.
The paper said to go to 21 Adelaide St. for Thai visas. Fleetingly I wondered why the lady at the first reception desk couldn't have handed me the instructions. Nevertheless off I went to the next street over to find number 21. There it was, a large number over an impressive entrance at the top of a set of stairs.
"Are you here for an interview?" I was asked at the reception table in a very spartan, temporary-looking lobby. I explained my quest. "Oh no, not here. You must go back down stairs and around the corner." Of course on retracing my steps, I went the wrong way around the corner. A weary attendant pointed me the way.
The plain doorway led to a courier office. Hesitantly I asked where I might apply for a Thai visa. "Certainly sir, right here", said Jim in his smart one-piece uniform with name emblazoned. Quickly he took my stuff, put it in a envelop and gave me a receipt. "It'll be ready in 2 or 3 days."
I explained to him the circuitous route I had taken to get to him. "Yea," he said, "The Thai consulate officials don't like to meet with people if they can avoid it".
On thinking it over, I suspect it was all a subtle way of introducing farangs to an important facet of Thai culture. TIT. Toronto style.