Will we break the record today?
It sure was warm yesterday!
23.7.13
22.7.13
Motorcycle to hell
Second three weeks ago to import Dr Livingstone's motorcycle with customs.
I phoned again (a different office this time) to ask what I needed to bring, to make doubly sure.
With some additional information (Dr Livingstone's written consent I was going to act in his place) I set off for Custom's bureau nº2.
What an event.
Ok, I parked in the ginournous parking garage in front of the buildings and memorized the number I parked on. 2143. Not so hard to remember.
Then I proceeded to the building, which is the former site of the Philips factories in Louvain.
Information board telling me customs are on the first level.
I take the elevator (which has no buttons inside to indicate what floor you want to go to) in the absence of clearly indicated flight of stairs.
I exit the elevator. Four doors leading to toilets, two random doors indicating some services which are not custom related.
But a sign still telling me customs are located to the right (according to the arrow). The only door on the right leading to offices is locked.
Guy with backpack exits elevator and opens door with bagde, goes in, door closes behind him.
Lady going into Ladies says: "My badge doesn't work to open doors and I work here. Best go down to reception on the ground floor, they'll ring and then someone will come and collect you."
So I take the elevator back down. Reception calls and tells me: "Fourth floor".
So I take the buttonless elevator once more.
A hunchback awaits me, holding ajar a door to the right. "Did they ring for you?"
It somehow reminded me of a scene from Young Frankenstein.
Then I had to fill in some form. An ring a bell again when I was finished.
-'Do you have the motorcycle here with you?'
-'How could I, I don't even have a license plate yet.'
-'Well I need to have to see the amount of miles on the clock.'
-'What?'
-'Or do you have a picture with you of the milage.'
-'No, it don't.'
-'Then I can't complete the application.'
-'What? But why didn't you tell me I needed to bring a picture of the milage. I phoned you to know if I needed to bring anything else. Why didn't you give me the right information.'
-'I'm giving it now, aren't I?'
-_-
So still nothing. This is never going to work. Dr Livingstone tried once more to get to the customs office. They were closed before closing time!
I phoned again (a different office this time) to ask what I needed to bring, to make doubly sure.
With some additional information (Dr Livingstone's written consent I was going to act in his place) I set off for Custom's bureau nº2.
What an event.
Ok, I parked in the ginournous parking garage in front of the buildings and memorized the number I parked on. 2143. Not so hard to remember.
Then I proceeded to the building, which is the former site of the Philips factories in Louvain.
Information board telling me customs are on the first level.
I take the elevator (which has no buttons inside to indicate what floor you want to go to) in the absence of clearly indicated flight of stairs.
I exit the elevator. Four doors leading to toilets, two random doors indicating some services which are not custom related.
But a sign still telling me customs are located to the right (according to the arrow). The only door on the right leading to offices is locked.
Guy with backpack exits elevator and opens door with bagde, goes in, door closes behind him.
Lady going into Ladies says: "My badge doesn't work to open doors and I work here. Best go down to reception on the ground floor, they'll ring and then someone will come and collect you."
So I take the elevator back down. Reception calls and tells me: "Fourth floor".
So I take the buttonless elevator once more.
A hunchback awaits me, holding ajar a door to the right. "Did they ring for you?"
It somehow reminded me of a scene from Young Frankenstein.
Then I had to fill in some form. An ring a bell again when I was finished.
-'Do you have the motorcycle here with you?'
-'How could I, I don't even have a license plate yet.'
-'Well I need to have to see the amount of miles on the clock.'
-'What?'
-'Or do you have a picture with you of the milage.'
-'No, it don't.'
-'Then I can't complete the application.'
-'What? But why didn't you tell me I needed to bring a picture of the milage. I phoned you to know if I needed to bring anything else. Why didn't you give me the right information.'
-'I'm giving it now, aren't I?'
-_-
So still nothing. This is never going to work. Dr Livingstone tried once more to get to the customs office. They were closed before closing time!
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