Life isn’t always rosy in the Missy Bear household. [Ever?, Ed]
As you know, we celebrated our check out of France at Port-Vendres, and were confident we would be able to check into Spain via Port Ginesta.
The very helpful staff at the capitania (harbour master's office) here in the marina had taken photos of our passports on our arrival and sent them off to the local police as is the requirement in Spain. They told us to present ourselves on Monday morning at the Polizia Nacional in Castelldefels to get our passports stamped.
Happily, we went away for a swim in the local beach (10 mins walk from the boat). Later we had a wonderful seafood dinner at a marina restaurant, to celebrate our 28th wedding anniversary, which had fallen on the long day sail to Port Ginesta. [Richard had forgotten! Plus ça change]. A lovely evening with lots of laughter and affection.
So we got up bright and early on Monday, showered, brushed our hair, cleaned our shoes and dressed in smart casual clothes to get our taxi into Castelldefels. (Recognise a pattern here?).
We queued up, along with a number of Spanish people, at the door marked “Paseports” as well as other functions such as id cards. At precisely 9am, the door opened and a young policeman came out with a list, and called out names. The crowd surged forward, leaving us behind. When it has cleared, we approached the policeman with our passports and the paper on which we had written some Spanish phrases, courtesy of my friend Google translate. The policeman said “no” (that’s Spanish for no if you need a translation).
Our Spanish wasn’t up to his next sentence, so he very kindly finds someone who speaks English coming out of the police station, who tells us they cannot stamp our passports here, we have to go to the Port of Barcelona. We retreat to the square outside, and consider our options. Richard makes three immediate phone calls, one to the Port Ginesta capitania, the next to our lovely skipper Mike G, who sailed with us down from Canet. Both very kindly offer to make phone calls to look into it. Finally, he calls Simon, from Sunbird in Palma who is due to visit us today, hopefully to help get some of our remaining boat issues fixed. Richard asked him to pick us up on his way from the airport in about 45 mins time.
We therefore do what many couples would do in the circumstances - we retire to a café on the square, drink coffee and bicker about the importance of this passport stamp.
a) Richard’s view: we explain all on our final exit from Schengen (in Greece when we exit to Turkey). They will see the French Visa, subtract the French Visa days from our total days in Schengen, and all will be well. We will back it up by showing them our electronic sailing log and MarineTraffic etc.
b) My view: I - with my background in regulatory compliance - disagree, and insist we need to be stamped back into Schengen now, or we will get fined, banned, deported etc. We have had this disagreement many times and neither will budge an inch.
Mike G gets back to us to say his local police say we do not need a stamp, but the visa aspect is complex. Simon collects us, and we head back to Port Ginesta, while Richard explains the situation to him. We head straight to the capitania. Simon uses his fluent Spanish to explain to the woman Richard spoke to earlier. She rings a mate in the police department who says we need the foreign department. The lines are busy but she eventually gets through and the person promises to get back to her.
It’s not too long before she calls back. The police will come out to us to stamp our passports. And sure enough, in less than an hour, three super representatives of the border police show up in a large van. They are pleasant to deal with, and decline an invitation to come on board, as their soles will mark our deck. We sit at one of the Beneteau Sea Trial office tables opposite, they accept a glass of water and examine our visas and stamps from France. And without further ado, they stamp us back in to Schengen, bid us a pleasant stay, and depart. Whoop Whoop!
TICK TOCK, SCHENGEN CLOCK
P.S. I should add that we are incredibly grateful to everyone who gives their time to help us with these new and complex situations. The Spanish and French border police, our new friend Mike G, the wonderful staff at the capitanerie.
In a throw-back to my Ted Hasting’s post, we are sucking diesel.