Nearly there

So the boxes are looking full, the suitcases are nearly packed. My room looks like n empty shell. And I am contemplating my next attack. It’s so hard. I believe fully in the 80/20 theory. The last 20% is the hardest. It took me only 20% of my time to do 80% of the work. It’s driving me nuts, REALLY nuts. And of course I would prefer to do my blogging!

For those of you interested I shipped all my boxes through a really nice little brisbane shipping company.They really were great, emailed me all the info, were close by to home. AND could ship to my door in France. There is an agent that deals with my customs and all I had to do was drop it off! Combine that with a really great price and I am extremely pleased. Basically other companies wanted double and delivery was only available to LYON! Lyon is about 12 hours away from me. Not exactly convenient nor economical.

Other than that I am getting a little pathetic about Australia, things like vegimite on toast with tasty COON cheese has been my staple breakfast for the last week. Eating real chinese rather than French style chinese. Milo and timtam mashup icecream from the coldrock icecreamery. Apples that crunch in your mouth, the juice crisp on your tongue and the stickyness dribbling down your chin.

Things like making myself walk outside and feel the sun on my face in the middle of winter. Visiting my mother out west and eating a HUGE rump steak. Playing in grass that may have spiders, bugs, ticks, snakes and every other kind of Australian death. Walking my obese dog Wally. And lastly walking along Australia’s famous white sandy beaches after 4WDing to get most of the way.

But yes I am nearly there, I am nearly packed, but I nearly have all my memories packed too. I am nearly with the man I love and nearly in France. Wish me luck for starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Nicola
x

Advertisements

PART 1: The process of Marriage to a French Citizen

I was just starting to bask in the idea of being engaged when we took our first visit to the prefecture. It is something that I prefer to think of as an ambush which I wrote about here. We are in love, we were in love. We are pathetic apart. Really badly, Sebastien’s friends don’t like him anymore when I am not around. And me? I can’t stand being away. Our decision to get married was compulsory. We could no longer handle being apart.

However after that episode I continued down our set idea and path. Originally we started looking at marrying in France. I was caught up in the romantics of a French wedding. The real reason was that I would get the marriage paperwork straight after the wedding. Taking less time than being processed in an Overseas French Embassy. There was also the bonus of using it to hide from a case of family politics. Who would I invite, who I would forget and who I would deliberately forget. That was a very lovely bonus.

However at that point in time we realised a few things. The amount of paperwork, apostilles, translations I would need would be utterly crazy and ridiculous let alone the time constrictions and the massive cost. Some people have Daddy behind them but we did not. And I was completeing full time uni in the process.The French Embassy in Australia didn’t help at all. The marriage office could barely speak English and never replied to any emails that I wrote.

To summarise the marriage process in France:

  1. I would need to apply for a marriage visa with required paper work, translated, apostilled. Applying for this visa would require a flight to Sydney from Brisbane to get it then endorsed by the French Embassy.
  2. I would then fly to France and we would lodge a Banns and also the Australian version of the Banns (Notice of Intent to Marriage). This process would take about 4 months to complete if the French were in a good mood and if all paperwork arrived on time. (More about this later)
  3. Please do remember that at this point I could arrive at the Mairie of my husbands townn and even though I have the Visa permission he may or may not accept our Banns onย  various conditions such as a of a lack of paperwork. I may not have enough sufficient identity, or proof of relationship. If I flew over there was still a risk of rejection.
  4. After the required time had passed of 4 weeks Australian, and 3 Weeks France. We would then have permission to marry.
  5. We rush to marry and collect required marriage paperwork. Of marriage certificate AND livrette famille.
  6. THEN I would return to Australia and apply for my spousal residency visa. In France, they have phased out the Fiance visa for Australian’s. The choice was this or marriage in Australia.

Because of this run around. We chose to marry in Australia. It still was stressful but cost wise, translation and apostille wise it was a lot easier to do and more economical. We basically cut out the whole step of the Marriage Visa including flights.

Next time I’ll let you know about the actual marriage paperwork from France to marry in Australia. That’s when the fun/mess/anger/stress truly starts ๐Ÿ™‚
Mignonne ๐Ÿ™‚

Loosing your mobile phone when moving overseas

Yes,
I did it. More masterful than a masterchef. I lost my mobile a week before moving overseas. Smart cookie aren’t I? And I did it on the day when I planned to book all my last minute things in before I go. BTW to top it off it is in fact a broken mobile that I dearly love.

It’s a wonder I am surviving. I learnt my DOM (dependance on mobile) off a Class A professional: My husband. That thing, better called an Iphone is glued to his hand with cement (Superglue wasn’t good enough). Including into this his DOT(dependance on technology). The particular DOM with his Iphone really topped of my cake. DOT and DOM for me are generally frustrating to say the lease. But really he is french, he is man and therefore he loves gadgets and technology.

Me? I am very nearly a technophobe. To the point it is nearly like green eggs and ham. Normally I would be quite proud to go without the phone. In fact I fell IN LOVE with the book The Winter of Our Disconnect, to the point that I am not wanting a TV in the loungeroom. Much to my husbands distress.

In France I am known as a hopeless phone user except when it comes to the game app flight control which I deliberatly learnt to piss off the husband by beating his score. However my dependance comes from the convienience of a phone call, to shop around, to find out if you are home and just the whole normal communication thing.

So instead I have considered my options to amazing points.

  1. I could turn on my French mobile in Australia and rack up some hefty phone bills in response to the horrible loss of an already broken Aussie phone.
  2. ย I could try to buy some skype dollars and call around. But that seems like too much effort.
  3. I could email the people I want information for. Which I did concerning my lost mobile.
  4. I could actually physically go to the shops in person. AMAZING IDEA ISN’T it?

So right now I am signing off and venturing into that scary world. It actually isn’t too hard it’s just a pain in the ass cos it takes so much more time.

a bientot (see ya!)
mignonne (me)

So far so good

Hey everyone,

I’ll give everyone a proper update in the next week about the Visa process for Australian’s going to France, which I promise has more drama than the Bold and Beautiful.

I officially have my Visa in hand. In my passport which has currently been sleeping on my desk since I got it back. I have been too scared to even take the visa to a friends house to show because I am scared I will loose my passport.

I haven’t finished packing but am about to start sorting the last of my odd bits and pieces which includes packing my suitcase and the boxes… GOD I HAVE SO MUCH CRAP THAT I AM THROWING OUT! And so many books that I refuse to be without. When Sebastien wants to cheer me up he literally takes me to a bookshop! Its like bookporn, that’s how much I love books.

Sebastien and I as usual are fighting like cats and dogs. This is the usual process of arrivals. We are a very easy cycle to read. While together we have our ups and downs like every couple. Apart it reads like so…

First phase: Missing the other person like you have lost a limb and or your bestfriend to cancer. I am morbid, cry a lot and generally eat too much chocolate.
Middle phase: Addicted to skype, man hater in general except for the lovely Sebastien. Starting to focus on getting healthy. Starting to appreciate my girly time and making an effort to not let myself go.
Last phase: Being so excited and frustrated at the same time, because you are both so close but so far away. Fighting like cats and dogs. Drinking a lot with mates and partying hard.

Other than that I am preparing to visit my Mumma in the Outback just before I go. Get a real taste of Australia before I leave in the hope that it puts off my homesickness just a little bit longer. And yes I know I will get homesick. I am not pretending this is a holiday. I am going there to live. I already have a mild distrust of French people. You can thank some ex-female friends of Sebastien for that. It’s also the language barrier and the culture that decieves you. You think you understand it. And then BAM! It slaps you in the face for getting too comfortable.

Anyway this packing will not do itself.

Talk Soon

Nik