Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Fucking Britain, I can't escape its ineptitude even when I'm almost two thousand miles away. I shouldn't be surprised by my current predicament, we are talking about Her Majesty's handywork after all.

Yesterday, we decided it would be a good idea to head to the British Embassy to get some information on me living and working in Poland. The polite (or maybe not polite, I can't speak Polish) security guy told us that we needed to go to the British Consulate. At this point, I made a bet with Ol - 1zł says that the consulate send us back to the embassy.

So this afternoon we headed back into the city. First we went to the British Council, where the Polish girl at the desk misunderstood me and told me to email a CV if I wanted a job at the Council. After Ol's intervention, we found out that we had to go to the Consulate around the corner.

At the Consulate, or rather the reception of the building the Consulate is housed in, the security guard told us that we needed to make an appointment. How do we do that? He gave us a piece of paper with the London address of the Polish Embassy and a few website addresses.

Hmm...

Checking the website, which gives information on: recording a birth/death, retiring and applying for residency in Poland, I'm still a bit stumped. What if I hadn't brought my computer with me? Am I the first British person to come to Poland to work, ever? All these stupid questions. And no stupid fucking answers. Just yet.

Fucking Britain!

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