Was a complete and utter drag.
First off I slept in, due to the fact that we had no electricity and so I was depending on my phone to wake me up. It did the job, but I switched it off, as I normally do with me alarm clock, only for it to go off again in 9 minutes. Not so with the phone as I had hit the wrong button and turned it off completely
I eventually made it out of bed, and into town where I wandered in the Garda station to get my passport application form signed. Now technically they aren’t supposed to sign it unless recognition is based on personal knowledge, what’s the deal with that? I don’t know any Gardaí in Dublin. I barely know any in Sligo.
The nice Garda decided to believe I am me (I am, in case you are wondering), and after seeing three hundred and fifty nine point two alternate forms of ID, and he signed it for me.
Then the fun really began!
Off to Molesworth Street to wait and wait and wait as number after number after number ticked by, oh so slowly reaching mine; 316. And then, after waiting all that time I discovered I had brought along not my original birth cert, but a photocopy.
Luckily, when I return tomorrow (grr argh) I won’t have to queue, just pop the form into any counter.
Can some one please explain to me why I didn’t bother to get my arse in gear a few months ago when I realised my old passport was missing? That way I coulda just filled out the form and posted it off. Plus would have saved myself a couple of quid. It costs seventy five bloody euro nowadays. Shocking!