The USA is in deep debt.  The UK just went £1 Trillion into debt.  Most of Europe is in deep debt, Italy and Greece in particular, and the whole Eurozone financial crisis is putting the economic recovery plans of not only the UK but the USA at risk too.

In mid January the credit rating for France was dropped, which added yet another factor, threatening the Eurozone bailout plan.

It just seems to be a never ending downhill spiral, and yet if you step back and think about it, this is just crazy.

The once wealthiest countries in the world are deep in debt.  They are also trying to help the poorer countries in Europe who are in even worse debt, which is dragging them down further in turn.

What I would like to know though is who is all this debt owed to?  If the USA and UK owe vast sums of money and most of Europe too, then who is the creditor?

It can’t be the Russians, because they are deep in their own debt crisis.  Maybe it’s the Chinese and a master plan to control the world.

Actually a lot of the US debt is in Treasury Securities, which are funded by wealthy investors, as well as corporations, retirement funds and governments around the world.  Surprisingly enough, about 25% of the national debt in the USA is held by foreign governments, the largest being Japan, then China, the UK and then the major oil producing nations.

In the UK, about 40% of the national debt is owed to insurance companies and pension funds, and a whopping 35% to foreign investors,and then next in line comes the Bank Of England.

Another big question comes to mind, “Who are these foreign investors who have such a big stake in the UK?”.

Is it Middle Eastern individuals, companies or governments? Is it private investors like Bill Gates? Is it the Russian Mafia maybe?

The interesting thing is that no amount of Googling seems to throw up any documents with information on how this is made up.

It’s a little worrying don’t you think, that all of our countries are fast going downhill financially, and a siezable chunk of the debt is owed to foreigners.  So what happens if there is ever a “crunch day” when the debt is called on?  Could our countries then come under the thumb of foreign powers?  It would probably make a good fiction story, but I hope it never comes true…

Sources:

The Bond Market Explained

UK National Debt

Who Owns The US National Debt

While Americans speak English (after a fashion), it’s not only the spelling of many words that is different between American English and British English, it’s the use of words and phrases that will very often completely confuse the visitor.

This is the tale that recounts some of the problems that a naïve American visitor to the UK might experience. I hope you enjoy it.

Read the full article: How to Confuse an American Visiting the UK

It didn’t take long however for Old Man Winter to move south, and by Tuesday we had snow in the south of England.  Fortunately going to work on Tuesday morning it wasn’t as cold as expected, so I didn’t need to scrape the ice off the windows of the car, just use the regular wiper to clean the windows.

Tuesday night we were threatened to have up to a foot of snow, but when I left work it was just light drizzle, and I made it all the way home in almost record time.  It wasn’t half an hour later however when we saw heavy snow falling, but fortunately we only got just over an inch, far less than the forecast said.  

Wednesday morning I set off for work early, expecting to have to have a major scraping job on my hands, and also to have to wade through deep snow, but it was already melting a bit, the car windows were not frozen, so I just had to brush the snow off the car, and got into work 30 minutes earlier than usual.

When I got to work I found that several people who live a bit further out of town and where the snow was falling earlier, had been forced to abandon their cars as they couldn’t get home.  One of them left work at 5pm and didn’t make it home until 11pm, and this is less than ten miles from where I live.  I guess I ought to be grateful that I live where I do.

We had a bit more snow during the day and it was threatening more for the evening, so I decided to leave for home ten minutes early to beat the traffic, and had a good journey home, that is until I almost got home. 

We live halfway up a steep hill, and I managed to take the turning off the main road onto our access road ok, drove the two hundred yards or so along there ok, then made the sharp left turn to go up the hill, and didn’t get too far.  The road was covered in snow and ice, and was too steep for the car to get enough grip to drive more than 20 or 30 yards up the road.   Frustratingly, this was only 20 yards short of where I needed to be to back off the road and down the alley at the back of the house to where I park.  

Well I tried and tried, reversed down the hill and around the corner, tried again, but the car wasn’t going to make it, so I parked at the side of the road and walked the last 1/4 mile home.   I then got changed, put my boots on, grabbed the bucket of salt/grit that we saved from the week before Christmas when we had the last freeze, picked up a garden shovel, and headed back to the car.   I spent a while shovelling snow and ice away from around the wheels, cleared ten feet behind the car and about 20 feet in front, sprinkled the grit down, and tried to get up the hill.   It took me 2 or 3 attempts, including a second round of shoveling having reversed down the hill a few feet, but finally I slithered up the hill and was then able to reverse into the alley.  Phew!

I then took my now empty bucket to the grit bin at the top of the road, hoping to refill it for the next time, but was dismayed to find that the bin was empty.  Not more or less empty though, I don’t think there was enough grit to even fill the palm of my hand.   Oh well…

More snow was forecast Wednesday night, but I woke up this morning to find that nothing had covered my footsteps of last night, however it was bitterly cold, and the snow out the back was crunchy underfoot.   The car windows took forever to scrape as the ice was really hard, and shovel in boot (trunk) I started my way down the alley to the road.

The road was still covered in snow and ice, and there was a car and a van close to the bottom of the slope, both obviously couldn’t make it up the hill the night before.   I turned into the road, then slowly worked my way down the hill, hoping not to slide into either vehicle (which were parked on opposite sides of the road), or to fail to stop and run into the line of trees at the bottom of the road.    I made it, then turned left into the access road, which was really slick and slippery.  At the end of the access road the road turns sharply right and goes downhill, then immediately onto a main road, with traffic that comes around a bend fast.  I decided to go really slowly down the last bit of the access road, because if not I could end up not stopping on what looked like a skating rink, and didn’t relish the idea of sliding into the main road and oncoming traffic.  Luckily the main road was clear, I slithered down the last section of the access road, put my foot down on the accelerator, and started up the main road.  Another sigh of relief…

The main road of course immediately goes up an even steeper hill than where we live, and this is one long haul of a hill too, up one side and then down the other.  Fortunately the road was clear enough, and the rest of the journey to work was uneventful, and also done in practically record time.

Although more snow is forecast and it’s still bitterly cold outside, the sky has been blue all day, and I am hoping that this will be enough for the snow on our road to melt enough for me to get up the hill and home ok.

I emailed the city this morning using their Actionline link to see if we could get more grit in our grit bin, and got a response to say that they would answer my inquire within three days.  Oh joy – maybe we can go shopping on Sunday!  Or maybe not as more snow is forecast for the weekend, and the freezing temperatures are set to continue for another week at least.

As for the two people who didn’t make it home on Tuesday night, neither of them made it into work yesterday or even today.  While the main roads are mostly clear, the side roads after the partial melt and the severe freeze last night have turned them into slick skating rinks, and it’s practically impossible for anyone to go anywhere.

This is so different to my experiences while living in Indiana, where the city had so many snow ploughs and salt trucks, plus a number of other people had pickup trucks with blades on the front to plough side streets and car parks for shopping centres and businesses.  In addition many people shoveled the snow from their own sidewalks or used snowblowers, yet here in England that rarely happens any more. 

Do you have a snow day story to tell?  If so, please leave a comment and let us know.

So having moved back to the UK and now having started back to work, albeit after almost three months of trying to find a job and spending much of my time at home, I am not back in the real world of living in England.

Working for a family owned company here is very different to working in Corporate America, where there are so many rules and regulations as to what you can and can’t do, and many of the traditions that might have been have long since gone.   Here for example, people in the department take it in turns to get tea/coffee for everyone, something that I haven’t seen in years.   The boss took us all down the pub for lunch on the first day, and it’s still acceptable to have a drink at lunchtime, whereas the mere mention of alcohol at work in the USA is a big “no no”.   Companies don’t necessarily have microwaves and water coolers here for the employees, in fact ours has neither, but there is a good supply of hot water to make a decent cup of tea as you would expect!

Driving to work is also very different to what it was in the USA, and for me it’s a step backwards.  No more driving 25 miles down the highway for me, or like in my last job 45 miles, which I could do in about 45 minutes.  Now it’s just over 8 miles to work, but it takes me between 40 minutes to an hour.   Only 1/4 mile of that is using a road that has 2 lanes each way, the rest is on just regular roads, and of course much of it is just one big traffic jam.

I guess this is just one of the downsides to living in the UK again, having to deal with the traffic, whereas in both Indiana and Florida where I was living in the USA, the traffic levels were much lighter.  Not only that, once I got out of the residential areas, the rest of the journey was on main highways with at least 2 lanes in each direction.  The traffic in the UK has always been terrible and it gets worse every year, but I am grateful at least that I am not working in London.  Most people working in London have to take public transport to get to work, and that just seems to get more unreliable every year too, so all in all I am pretty lucky to just have a 30 minute journey every day.

My next task, having moved house this weekend, is to sort out a food system for work.   In Florida I used to make myself oatmeal for breakfast in the office, and could bring in leftovers at any time to heat up in the microwave.  I also used to drink a lot of water, and kept bottles that I would fill up from the water cooler.  Now without either a water cooler or a microwave I am looking at alternative options, so will have to bring in my own water from home (since I object to paying an arm and a leg for bottled water), and will probably have cold cereal in the office, since there is a fridge that I can keep milk in.   We don’t have enough money for me to splash out on buying sandwiches etc more than once a week, and besides that, I prefer to know what I am eating, trying to eat healthy as much as I can.  Having lost more than 20lbs in weight over the last two years, I am determined to not put it all on again, as I feel so much better these days.

Well enough rambling for now… Please feel free to leave a comment…

I’m not such a big fan, but Debbie loves the show, and it turned out to be quite an interesting night.   But where to begin…

I guess the story begins 2 weeks ago, when Debbie’s daughter asked if we wanted to go to the eviction, as they had managed to get tickets.

Well we agreed, seeing as it would be something different, and two weeks ago off we set on a Friday evening, 4 of us in a Mini, to drive the 100 miles from where we live to the studios.

Well to cut a long story short (if that is ever possible for me), we got stuck in heavy traffic, made it there in time, but the tickets only allow you entry if there is room, and by the time we arrived they were full to capacity.   So, we ended up going to McDonald’s to grab a bite to eat, and then drove home.

Since we could not get in, the studios allowed us to get tickets that would guarantee us entry for last night’s eviction, provided we got there by 6:20pm.   And so we decided that we needed to leave earlier than before, not taking into consideration the fact that this weekend is August Bank Holiday weekend in the UK, the equivalent of Labor Day weekend in the USA, when the whole country are on the move for a long weekend away.

Well, we set off at 4pm, in Debbie’s daughter’s boyfriends new toy, a BMW, which was a nice comfy ride, hit the motorway, and it wasn’t too long of course before we hit the traffic.   First it was road works on the M3, which delayed us about 30 minutes, and then a 20 mile queue on the M25, which delayed us close to an hour.  By the time we got to the studios it was almost 7pm.    We joined the queue of people waiting to get in, and were relieved to find that we were not too late this time, however we were already close to the back of the queue.

Despite the fact that it’s close to the end of August, and supposed to be nice and warm, it was chilly and there was a cold wind blowing.  Add to that the dark clouds that came over and dumped heavy showers of rain on us for a good 20 minutes, and we were all cold and wet.   Debbie’s daughter did have a small umbrella, but it wasn’t enough for four of us, and not for that amount of rain either.

After about an hour and a half we got into the studios, and unfortunately the best spots to stand were already jammed, but we found a good place to stand close to the stage and below the platform and stairs where the house mates come out when they are evicted.

There were a number of cameras there, to get shots from different directions, and lots of people had banners to hold up, so we knew that chances are we wouldn’t appear on television, and watching the show this morning confirmed that.  Oh well… It might have been a claim to fame, but not the best in the world…

On a number of occasions the host of the show, Davina McCall came out and gave announcements for the show, and also interacted with the audience, and everyone was going crazy and having a good time.

Whether it was a combination of not having eaten or drunk anything for a few hours, the excitement, getting cold or what, Debbie started to come over faint, and the two of us headed out of the enclosure, more or less frog-marched through security, to the building where the studio is, so that the paramedics could make sure she was ok.    She got to sit down, and they gave her some water to drink, and as she was starting to feel better, in popped Davina, as we were right by the studio door.     She asked Debbie if she was feeling ok, then held her hand, and miraculously Debbie started to feel better, as the excitement came over her.

We went back to the guest enclosure, and it was then only 5 minutes until it was time for the eviction to be announced.   The two contestants who had been nominated were Siavash, an Iranian with long hippy hair who had somewhat stirred things up on the show, and Marcus (nicknamed the “Dark Horse”), who had sideburns that made him look like Mungo Jerry (remember them – In The Summertime?) and a long ponytail.  Marcus also probably has the filthiest mouth of any contestant ever on the show, with hardly a sentence coming out without an “F” or “S” word.  It wouldn’t work on television in the USA, there would be more bleeps than on the Osbournes.   But I have to admit he was a pretty funny contestant.

Well eviction time, and we were standing right under the gangway where the evictee would come out.  And… the evictee was… Marcus…   If you would like to see a video clip of the eviction CLICK HERE.  We were standing to the left of the staircase when the video starts, but it’s not possible to see us of course.  Oh well…

No sooner had Marcus come out, shaken a few hands, posed for pictures, than he was off to the studio, and everyone began to leave.   We stopped at McDonald’s to grab a bit to eat as we were all cold and starving, and then began the 100 mile trip home.  Being after 11pm by this time the traffic was pretty light, and we got home soon after 1am.

Of course with me suffering from what I call “Old Folks Disease”, I still woke up at 7am.  It’s not fair, really not fair at all.  I have always wanted to be able to sleep in, not been able to for years, and now I can, since I am jobless, I wake between 6-7 most mornings.   But this is another story, and I have many more to tell – if you will keep coming back.

After many evenings of packing that frequently went beyond midnight, I finished packing about 1am on Wednesday, with the alarm set for 3:45am to give me enough time to get out and catch my flight in Miami at 8:30am.   I had a quick webcam chat with Debbie, showered and packed the last of my things, said goodbye to Tim my landlord with whom I have become very good friends, and drove down the highway to the train station in Hollywood where I had arranged to leave my car to be picked up.

I lugged my bags (2 to be checked in, my laptop bag and a backpack) up in the elevator, across the bridge, down the other side, and then realized the ticket machines were over the other side.  Fortunately the platform was almost empty, and the only person close to me asked if I was English – turns out he came over to Florida from Birmingham 10 years ago.  So I took a chance and left my 2 big bags where they were and legged it up the stairs, across the bridge, down across the other side, where I purchased my ticket.  Then it was back up across and down, by which time I was completely soaked in sweat.   Despite the fact that it was only 5:30am, the temperature was in the mid 80′s and it was extremely humid.  It took me most of the way to Miami before I cooled off.

The shuttle from the train station dropped me about 1/3 of the way along the terminals in the airport, but of course as luck would have it, United are in the new terminal at the far end, so I had to lug my bags well over 1/4 mile to check them in.  It was rather cool in the airport, and by this time I was desperate to go to the  bathroom, plus I was nervous in case my bags were overweight and I would have to repack or dump some things out.  However, I got checked in pretty quick, was within the weight limit, and got through the security without any problems either.

I had plenty of time to wait for the plane, managed to call Debbie to let her know I had checked in, called Tim as I had remembered I left a drawer of dirty laundry (the result of packing too late at night), and called my daughters before they went off to their swimming lessons.

Under normal circumstances I would have caught an evening flight direct to London, however direct flights at the end of July were about $1,000 and multiple legs weren’t much cheaper.  Debbie fortunately found a flight for $406 through Vayama, a company like Priceline, that offers discounted travel but you don’t find out the route until you purchase.  Fortunately with Vayama having purchased you have an hour to cancel, which swayed me over to trying this out.  I knew the flight left Miami at 8:30am and I didn’t get into London until 6:30am the following morning, but other than knowing it was 2 planes, I had no idea where my connection point would be.  The last thing I wanted was to fly to some place out west and have a short connection time, which might mean spending a day in some god-forsaken spot that I didn’t want to be.   I was lucky however, in that the flight from Miami went direct to Dulles (Washington DC) where I had a 7 hour layover before my flight to London.

The first flight went very smoothly, and there was plenty of legroom too.   In Washington I wandered around the terminals to try and find somewhere reasonable to eat, since by this time (midday) I was feeling a bit peckish.  The terminals are connected by shuttle buses, that look like lounges on wheels and drive all over the airport.    Having covered the rest of the terminals, I found out that the majority of the restaurants are in the terminal that I hadn’t covered.  Of course, the shuttle dropped me at gate 3, and the restaurant I wanted to eat at, Max & Erma’s was at gate 72, a good 1/4 mile hike at least!   I was hungry, but I also had a throbbing headache, which could be stress, tiredness and also the humidity.  I thought a good warm meal might help that.     I opted for a starter of Tortilla Soup, which wasn’t bad, then a Bacon Cheeseburger and Fries.  Not the healthiest item on the menu, but I really wanted something warming and filling, and it hit the spot.  That and 4 glasses of iced tea, which helped replenish the water I had sweat out so far.

I still had 5 more hours to kill in the airport before my next flight, and saw on one of the shuttles that I could take a bus to the Smithsonian Museum for 50cents, and there was free admission too.  On another day I would have jumped at this opportunity, but right then all I needed was to sit and try to relax before the next flight.    I found a seat close to the gate where my plane was due to depart from,  powered on the laptop, and settled down to watch a movie.  I selected “Miracle At Santa Ana” which turned out to be a WWII movie set in Italy with a company of Buffalo Soldiers.  Not a bad movie, but it helped kill 2 1/2 hours.   I had forgotten to copy any movies onto my flash drive before I packed my external hard drive away, so other than the movie all I had was a 1972 Genesis concert.  This got some strange looks from people sitting close, since back then the costumes and stage act from Peter Gabriel were rather odd to say the least.

I did get a lot of amusement from the fact that there was a small glass sided area set aside in the lounge for smokers with about 15 seats.  Not only were most of the seats taken most of the time, but often it was standing room only, with the occupants puffing and dragging away on their cigarettes like their life depended on it.  Really quite funny, but at the same time sad.

My 6pm flight to London Heathrow boarded on time, and I was very pleased to find that I had an Economy Plus seat with extra legroom.  All that for a bargain price, woo-hoo!   However, instead of landing 30 minutes early as we were supposed to, we ended up delayed an hour and a half due to bad weather in the Philadelphia area, which caused air traffic control to stop the take-off of any flights in the area for a while.   But eventually we got under way, and had a smooth flight.   Food wasn’t bad, with curried chicken to eat, and a quick snack for breakfast, and in between a few hours sleep while I listened to some of my favorite songs on my new MP3 player.  I also ended up sitting next to a lady from Fort Lauderdale who was originally from Devon and on her way back there for a visit, so we chatted for quite a while before we headed off to sleep.

Since I was supposed to arrive 30 minutes early and ended up landing over an hour late, Debbie was there to greet me, and I got the most wonderful hugs and kisses, two things that she excels at.  A little more than an hour later and we were home, where I had a much needed shower and cleaned up, then some yummy bacon rolls and off to bed.  We were both really tired, since I had hardly slept for two nights, and Debbie had to get up as well by 4am.

Well two days and lots of sleep later and I was feeling more human and also adjusting to the time difference in the UK.   I will update more on my adventures back in the UK in my future posts.  If you would like to be receive posts automatically, why not Register with us, we promise no spam and will keep your email addresses private.

In 1994 I moved from the UK where I had been living for 15 years, to Northern Indiana, where I would spend the next 12 years, before heading south to Florida.

Most people think that the biggest difference between the UK and the USA is that in England you drive on the left side of the road, and in the USA you drive on the right side, but it’s really far more than that.  There are a myriad of cultural and social differences that only really become apparent when you spend a significant time in the other country.

There is an awful lot that I don’t like in the USA, I have to admit that.  Let’s face it, I didn’t grow up here, so things are not what I am used to, and that is normal for anyone to find.  However there are also a lot of things I do like here, and a lot of things that I don’t like about England too.   In a perfect world I would take a blend of ideas from multiple cultures to get the best of everything.

I have learned that paradise doesn’t exist, since nowhere is perfect.   Take that dream of a tropical paradise for example.  It sounds perfect doesn’t it!  Golden sands, the sound of the ocean, little tiki bars and restaurants, swaying palms.  On the other hand you have maybe a high cost of living, limited entertainment, limited shops, theaters, museums or any of those things that you take for granted in the big city.  Hurricanes!  Did I mention those?  Frequent power outages… just to name a few things that you might miss.   Have you ever wondered how many people who live in places like Jamaica and The Bahamas actually go to the beach?  Relatively few actually.  Like most people, you don’t visit places that are on your doorstep.

However I am digressing instead of writing about the original topic, which was differences between the UK and the USA.  I’m good at getting sidetracked, as Debbie well knows

I found so many odd differences between these two countries, that I have actually pondered whether someone said “we have to be different to England, so let’s make everything work differently to them”.  Read on and you too might wonder, but I also wonder which came first, the American or the British version…

We all know that electricity in the UK runs on 240 volts, and in Europe and most of the rest of the world on 220 volts.  The USA and it’s neighbors runs on 110 volts.  Why is that?  It seems that 220 volts is more stable, but I have no idea why the difference.

Now driving on the other side of the road I can understand, and it historically goes back to horse drawn transport centuries ago, but other things I have no idea about.

Take the old rotary phones, which I grew up with.  In the USA the dial and numbers went the opposite way around to in the UK.  Fortunately I didn’t have to use one, because it would make calling really hard.  It was bad enough in the UK, especially when the phone slipped on a high digit, causing you to mis-dial and you had to start again.

Many locks on doors turn the opposite way in the USA compared to the UK.  What’s the logic there?   And light switches go the other way.  In the UK you flip the switch down to turn a light on and up for off.  In the USA it’s the opposite.

One thing that you will never change my mind about is chocolate.   To my dying day I would declare that Cadbury’s is the best chocolate in the world and not Hersheys!

But take something like health insurance.  In the UK it’s free!  If you go to see the doctor, or need a triple bypass – it’s free!  In the USA you could end up spending a small fortune if you got sick, and you have to pay high premiums on health insurance.  It’s also almost impossible to afford if you lose your job or your work doesn’t provide health benefits.  However, if you get sick in the UK and your treatment isn’t urgent, you could end up on a waiting list for a year.  The quality of treatment is often better in the USA, but it comes at a price.  Good if you can afford it.

The thing that really hit me hard was when I got my first job in the USA.  I had been living in the USA for 5 years before I got my first job, having been employed by a software house in London since I relocated.  I had a horrible shock when I was told by Human Resources that the working week was 40 hours (but they expected more like 60), and that there was no vacation time the first year (“come again?”), 5 days the next year, and then 10 days off – but wait – you get 3 weeks off after 5 years service!   I was shocked!  In Europe by law companies have to give you a minimum of 23 days off a year, and many companies in the UK expect you to take a 2 week chunk of that during the summer, rather than have constant long weekends throughout the year.  Many places also have a 35 or 36.5 hour working week.  My heart sank as you can imagine when I heard that.   But I have gradually got adjusted, except when I hear from friends in England who have been on an exotic trip for 2 weeks, and then are planning another week somewhere in the fall, whereas I have to figure out how to make the most of my 10 days, allowing for trying to take time off over Christmas, which leaves maybe 4 days for the rest of the year.

Easter always hit me hard too, since in the UK everyone gets both Good Friday and Easter Monday off, making it a 4-day weekend.  This falls in the middle of the 2 week Spring Break for the schools, so it’s great for parents.  I couldn’t believe that a country that is far more religious than the UK would not have time off for Easter, at least in many companies.   Then Christmas of course, where in the UK we have Boxing Day, the day after Christmas Day.  It’s hard to think about going to work the day after Christmas, but so far I haven’t had to and hope I never have to.

There are so many things that I can think of.  If you know of any differences that I haven’t listed, or have any theories, please leave a comment.   You can also find some more information on Cultural Differences between the UK and the USA on another article that I wrote at Associated Content.

The town is one of the few in England that has managed to retain it’s character, and as well as many of the Georgian buildings remaining, Bishops Waltham has managed to suppress the influx of larger supermarket chains and almost all of the shops in the town are family run businesses.   The local butcher had a number of protest signs outside because one of the supermarkets is planning to open in the town, which will sound the death knell for many of the local shops.

The ruins of Bishops Waltham Palace on the edge of the town are open to the public in the summer months and are run by the English Heritage Trust.  The palace was used by the Bishops and senior clergy of Winchester as they travelled through their diocese. Winchester was the richest diocese in England at the time, and as such its properties were grand.   The palace was destroyed on the orders of Oliver Cromwell during the English Civil war. Much of the old Palace is still in the town. Apart from the ruins, which are open to the public and well worth a visit, material from the Palace was used as building materials in town buildings still standing to this day.

Click Here for Books and other items about Bishops Waltham from Amazon.

I was shaking and felt my heart pumping when I found it sat waiting for me in my mail box. I quickly opened it, and here’s what it says;

‘Your application is subject to additional administrative processing and
is currently being reviewed by the Nonimmigrant Visa Chief. As soon as
we are able to proceed, you will be notified.’

GREAT!!! 3 months of waiting to hear it’s being reviewed. For goodness sake, don’t they think people have lives that they want to get on with? The works been done by immigration at Miami. I know because I sat all night watching them scour every known database in the world for information on me. They even showed me the 3 inch thick file of paperwork they’d completed. This was made up of printouts from the online file that’s also been produced.

In three weeks, there’s a week long school holiday over here. I would love to fly over to see Tony, but it’s not going to happen is it? Even if I receive a  reply before then, we’ll be pushing it to get my passport back to the Embassy and for them to process it and return it to me with my visa, oh, and we need to book flights.

I’ll keep you all updated.

Anyway, last summer we had the opportunity to spend a year together in Florida as I’d managed to get a years unpaid leave.  All I needed was a little document called a Visa to make it all possible.  I had my interview booked for early August and went armed with all the necessary documentation as stated on the US Embassy website.  I had proof of my intention to return, proof of finance, a place to stay… everything, or so I thought.

I was 100% confident that the visa was mine.  After all, there was no reason for me not to get it.  I’ve never broken the law or done anything wrong.  My job requires a CRB check (Criminal Records Bureau) reguarly or I don’t work, so I knew I was an ok person.

Imagine my horror at the interview when I was questioned about Tony… did I have his green card number?  What was his Social Security number?  Did I have his passport with me?  I was floored.  I’d put on my application that I would be staying at his address, so they wanted to check him out too.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have any of his documentation with me.  I had no idea that they’d want that.

When the consular officer said the words ‘I’m sorry but your application for a visa has been denied’ it was like the room span and I wasn’t hearing properly.  I was distraught.  I couldn’t understand why I’d been denied.  She explained that she didn’t believe I was a genuine tourist but could still travel under the visa waiver programme- that allows entry for up to 90 days.

So, after such a shock, I had to rearrange everything.  I’d given notice on my apartment and had to move out.  Flights had to be changed, which costs a fortune.  We changed my return to the end of October which was well within the 90 day limit.

However, after poking around on the net, I discovered it was more than likely that I’d be stopped by immigration at Miami and interviewed again.  It was highly likely that I could be denied entry and sent home on the next flight.  So, I took EVERY shred of documentation I had not only on myself, but on Tony too.

 A nine hour flight is bad enough, but when you know that you could be facing an interrogation  at the other end and then have to come straight back, it turns the flight into an ordeal.  To say I was an emotional wreck would be an understatement, but I had to appear calm on the outside as I knew immigration would try and pull me apart during questioning.

About 2/3rds of the way through the flight, it became obvious that there was a medical emergency on board the plane.  Unfortunately, an elderly gentleman suffered a heart attack and died during the flight.  Ok, so what’s this got to do with my situation?  Well, when we landed in Miami, of course all I wanted to do was get off the plane and get whatever was ahead of me over and done with.  But no, the authorities had other plans.  As it was a sudden death, the Police made the plane a crime scene whilst they conducted enquiries.  So there we were… a plane full of people already exhausted from the flight, with a dead body laid in the aisle, sat on the tarmac being held by the Police for an hour after the flight landed.

Eventually we were allowed to leave and I made my way to passport control and my heart was pounding.  I felt sick and was shaking all over.  As I expected, I was asked to step aside and wait for a colleague.  I was then taken to ‘secondary’ and told to sit and wait.  So I sat.  And I waited.  And I sat some more.  And waited some more.  There were approximately 75 people sitting and waiting with me and more people arriving all the time.  The officers at the desk although mostly polite, were obviously not the easiest of people to deal with. I also knew that Tony was sat in arrivals not knowing what on earth was happening, although he’d obviously expected for me to be questioned.

After 2 hours, I was called forward and asked a few standard questions.  Ok, I had the answers, but when the next 3 months of your life depends on the person in front of you and you’re aware that the whole waiting room can hear you, it’s difficult to speak clearly and consisely.

I’m not going to go into detail over what happened for the rest of the night…yes, you read correctly, the rest of the night.  Thankfully there was no latex glove action LOL!!  I was denied entry and then, thankfully, parolled in until the end of October.  I was held for 15 hours in total whilst they built a case to support my visa application.  The authorities were angry and embarrassed that they and I were in the situation we were because ‘some A** H*** having a bad day’ denied my visa application… oh, those were the words of the Chief Officer, not my own

Before I left the UK, I’d already made an appointment for my next interview with the Embassy for shortly after my return.  Miami assured me that they’d made and supported a case record for me that would ensure me a visa.  As it stands now, as I’ve been denied a visa and subsequently denied entry, I am not allowed to travel to the States. 

When I was eventually released, I almost ran through the airport to the arrivals area where Tony had been waiting all night for me.  We’d been allowed a couple of short calls but it was very difficult to talk openly to him in front of officers.  We were both exhausted, cold and emotionally drained.  That experience took me a good 3 weeks to recover from before I could settle in Florida.

When I returned, I went for the second interview.  I’d already arranged to go back to work and found somewhere new to live.  I couldn’t risk being turned down again, and end up with no job for a year and nowhere to live.

When you go to the Embassy for an interview, although you’re given a time, you’re sent to sit in a waiting room with approx 3-400 other people.  And again you sit and you wait.  It was a very nerve jangling wait too.  I was eventually called and interviewed.  It was explained to me that the reason I had been previously denied was because the officer felt I wanted to live in America, despite the fact I had evidence of my intention to return.  I was told that further enquiries needed to be made into what Miami had prepared and I should hear in about two weeks.

Two weeks came and went, no news.  Meantime I’d returned to work, faced all the ‘poor you’ and ‘what’s happening now’ questions (they’re still going on actually).  When I checked the Embassy website, it clearly states you may not contact the Embassy for an update until 60 days have elapsed after the interview.

So Tony booked his flights and came to the UK for Christmas.  Whilst he was here, the 60 days had elapsed and I called the Embassy.  I was spoken to by a very rude person, who didn’t even take any details from me.  I was told to just wait.  It could take 8-16 weeks.  So when Tony went home, we had no idea when we’d see each other again.  It might not be until the summer when he comes back over.

Yesterday I got brave and called again.  This time I got through to a really nice man who took my details and was surprised that I’d not heard anything.  He asked me to email a certain department and gave me a new reference number.  His response suggested to me that a decision has been made.

So, the email is sent.  I received an automated reply saying it could take 3-4 days for a response.  So that’s why I need your positive vibes.  Theoretically, they have no reason to deny me.  In reality I know they can do whatever they like.  If I get the visa, I’ll fly out to Florida mid February, then April and late May as that’s when the school holidays are here and I work in education, so I get that time off.  If I don’t get it, then we wait til Tony can fly here in the summer.

Fingers crossed.

Added by Tony

And if Debbie doesn’t get a visa, since I get precious little time off in a year, we will not be able to see each other until July, which is unthinkable.   Thankfully these days we have webcams, email and cheap phone calls, but that is no substitute for being together.  Sure we can see each other and talk, but we can’t hug or kiss, go places together, and begin our lives together.  If you can imagine what’s it’s like at the weekend for example…  The weather could be perfect, there could be places to go, festivals, concerts, or even just walks in the country or along the beach, but you can’t do that when you aren’t together.  So many weekends have passed already when neither of us have had the desire to do anything because we are on our own.  And so one weekend after another drags slowly past, especially those long holiday weekends, and both of us are not getting any younger.

Any positive thoughts you can send out for us will be much appreciated.