No USA for you!
This past weekend promised lots of adventures. Jon went down to St. Albans, VT, by bike on Friday and my plan was to join him on Saturday, bringing my bike on the good old Greyhound to ride back to Montreal. We were going to visit the Hartmans and pick up our new sexy camera.
Everything was going well, I got help from Aaron, Jen and Jack to prepare everything and was able to leave on time. Jack even gave me a ride to the bus station. The sun was shining and there was no rain in the forecast for the whole weekend... I was feeling lucky!
The bus was not very full, I noticed. It should not take too long once we got to the border.
Or so I thought.
Once we got to the Vermont border, I was informed by the border patrol officer that my passport was expired. By 38 days, to be precise. And I had just not noticed.
Now, do you want to know the best part of the story? The border patrol officers who let me in the USA two weeks before that - when my passport was expired by 26 days - had not noticed it either. They issued me a I-94 (it's a sort of an entry form) that was valid until November 2010 without much trouble, stapled it to my passport and wished me a good trip to the Big Apple.
Unfortunately, the lady that helped me this time was more attentive than her NY colleague and did catch sight of the expiration date on my little green travel booklet. They brought me in the supervisor's office but there was no solution to the problem, except to go back home.
That was very sad, especially because I would have to wait for the next Greyhound to Montreal, which was coming only in a few hours. There was my Saturday night down the drain.
Well, I decided not to give up on that luck I felt earlier, and started to ask people clearing customs for a ride. Who knows, maybe I'd get home in time for a beer, at least. The response was surprisingly positive, the only reason I didn't get a ride before asking 3 times was that I did have a huge bike box with me, plus a backpack.
The first girl's sports car looked quite fancy, but its trunk was the size of a match box. Half of the bike stuck out of it. "Thanks for trying, though!" The second couple - from Brazil by the way - was nice enough to try, but I saw right away that the stroller for their baby took most of the space. "Have a good trip, I am staying".
Then I spotted a quebecois couple with a huge antique black Lincoln. No doubt that car has amazing trunk space (I know because my dad drove one for the longest time). The bike fit in there like a glove and off we went - Maxime, Marie-Claude and I - to Montreal. They were so helpful that they even brought me to my door! And plus we had a nice conversation.
In the end, I can't say I enjoyed being denied entry in the US. I have always been wary of problems at the border. But given that the officers were surprisingly friendly and helpful and I got home early thanks to Max and M-Claude, I can't complain too much.
Vermont, wait for me. I am renewing my passport and I should be back soon!
Everything was going well, I got help from Aaron, Jen and Jack to prepare everything and was able to leave on time. Jack even gave me a ride to the bus station. The sun was shining and there was no rain in the forecast for the whole weekend... I was feeling lucky!
The bus was not very full, I noticed. It should not take too long once we got to the border.
Or so I thought.
Once we got to the Vermont border, I was informed by the border patrol officer that my passport was expired. By 38 days, to be precise. And I had just not noticed.
Unfortunately, the lady that helped me this time was more attentive than her NY colleague and did catch sight of the expiration date on my little green travel booklet. They brought me in the supervisor's office but there was no solution to the problem, except to go back home.
That was very sad, especially because I would have to wait for the next Greyhound to Montreal, which was coming only in a few hours. There was my Saturday night down the drain.
Well, I decided not to give up on that luck I felt earlier, and started to ask people clearing customs for a ride. Who knows, maybe I'd get home in time for a beer, at least. The response was surprisingly positive, the only reason I didn't get a ride before asking 3 times was that I did have a huge bike box with me, plus a backpack.
The first girl's sports car looked quite fancy, but its trunk was the size of a match box. Half of the bike stuck out of it. "Thanks for trying, though!" The second couple - from Brazil by the way - was nice enough to try, but I saw right away that the stroller for their baby took most of the space. "Have a good trip, I am staying".
Then I spotted a quebecois couple with a huge antique black Lincoln. No doubt that car has amazing trunk space (I know because my dad drove one for the longest time). The bike fit in there like a glove and off we went - Maxime, Marie-Claude and I - to Montreal. They were so helpful that they even brought me to my door! And plus we had a nice conversation.
In the end, I can't say I enjoyed being denied entry in the US. I have always been wary of problems at the border. But given that the officers were surprisingly friendly and helpful and I got home early thanks to Max and M-Claude, I can't complain too much.
Vermont, wait for me. I am renewing my passport and I should be back soon!
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