Home
Some of you will already know the story of Joanne & Sandy, but many will not. So, I, Narrator Sandy, will attempt to give an impression of how everything happened.
The Meeting
In December 2006, Sandy made a holiday to visit his father, who art in Guimaras, Philippines, hallowed be thy name: Paul. During this holiday, he had many experiences and came to many conclusions, one of which was: "I am not going to be married for a very long time because I am too busy and can't be bothered to find somebody suitable." (That is the short version of his revelation...
...which lasted all of a few hours until his transfer at Manila airport a few hours later, where he met an airline official who seemed very pleasant and was very attractive. Sandy made his usual attempt at misguided humour, before sulking off to the CR (comfort room as it is known out here), and then returned to the departure lounge. Joanne grabbed Sandy by the wrist and said something akin to "you....sit here and you look what am I doing." Sandy had already heard about the aggressive nature of Philippine women and decided not to refuse. Joanne then left to sort out some problem and left Sandy in charge of passport inspection, heh, heh, heh!
She returned and they chatted, and then his flight was ready for takeoff so he left. Sandy then spent twenty-four hours travelling back to Nice for a New Year's Eve party and Joanne didn't leave Sandy's mind throughout that whole time. He spent three weeks trying to get in contact with her and finally succeeded. During the next six months they telephoned eachother (to the delight of France Telecom) and met again in June when Sandy flew back to Philippines. She shocked him into marriage proposal.
Disaster in Amsterdam!
All was going well. It was a Friday morning, 28th of September, eight days before our wedding. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and everything was perfect. The flight from Nice to Amsterdam was thoroughly enjoyable and then somebody stole Sandy's passport, rather ruining a good day. Several conversations followed with the Dutch airport staff, who were next to useless, the British Consulate in Amsterdam (using a telephone box that ate more than 1 euro per minute, costing a total of over 40 euros), followed by telling his future bride that he probably wouldn't make the wedding, an argument with the Dutch police who first tried to intimidate him and then refused to do their jobs properly, more telephone conversations with airport staff, pilots and cleaning staff and finally, after four hours of nervous panics, he booked a flight to England where he would begin a week-long passport application process. Apparently.
Could it get worse?
Well yes, actually. The men among us will know that accidentally banging one's middle leg into a table whilst sitting down can be extremely painful. The Sandy's among us will know that the pain is heightened when your credit card is in your pocket and subsequently snaps in half. This is what happened. That was ten minutes before having a telephone interview with the British ambassedor using the mobile telephone of an irate Dutch security guard who did not let Sandy board the plane. He had let Sandy try to board the wrong plane one hour earlier, but that didn't stop him changing his methods this time around. So, after a long interview cut short by the demands of the pilot who wanted to take-off, Sandy finally boarded the plane using his only ID: A broken credit card, and a shabbily-typed letter written by the Dutch police.
No money, no passport... no ID...
...made arrival into the UK a little bit tricky. More interviews followed at immigration. Finally, I could at least get my things and go to my mum's house where I would be able to sleep. But not yet... the luggage conveyor belt was empty. Where was my luggage? Who knows?! So, I decided to test my credit card in the ATM. It was snapped 80% of the way through from the top. The cut was clean through the black stripe...but the card worked!!! This is a good warning for you all!!! I bought a train ticket and went back to Colchester and continued my panic.
The weekend of torment
Joanne disagreed with Sandy that the wedding should be re-arranged. It would take five days to apply for a new passport, but she insisted on waiting a few more days in case of some miracle. Meanwhile, Sandy had some good news. His luggage would arrive with him on Saturday evening. Great!
He then needed a passport application and photos. A man was selling The Big Issue outside the post-office. (The Big Issue is a magazine sold by homeless people who then share the proceeds.) I remembered lecturing somebody about how I dislike giving money to people who don't try to help themselves at all, and decided I should buy a copy. The price was £1.50. The headline article was "The Art of Travel". This made me laugh all the way to the photo machine where I discovered that I was 50pence short of change of the amount needed to buy photographs.
So I tried his credit card in the ATM again. The ATM processed the card but then couldn't give it back (due to the breakage blocking the machine) and swallowed it. Sandy went to his bank where he discovered that a new card would take a minimum of five days to receive. He withdrew the entire contents of his current account over the desk with no proof of ID whatsoever. This eventually saved the wedding!
Next, I needed somebody to sign my passport photographs.... does this never end? I finally managed to remember the names of some of my teachers from when I was 16 years old, and looked up their numbers in the telephone directory. One of them was in there! She is no longer a teacher but knew a teacher that I really liked and so I was lucky that she wanted to help. I went to her house and she signed my photographs! Thank you soooo much, Liz!!!
Monday came and so Sandy caught the train to London. I finally found my way to the passport office and discovered that they were willing to do me a bit of a favour. They issued me with a new passport after less than three hours and I was already on my way back to my mum's house to book my tickets. There were more complications with that, and I had no way of withdrawing money but for now, we were happy... Joanne was right not to re-arrange the wedding and we had a very happy time... as you can see during the following albums. Please use the menu at the top to view the photographs and leave a message on the message board.
So What Now?
We have been married for little more than a month are very happy together... We have already overcome many difficulties, mostly due to VISA applications and such. The situation is that we are moving to Nice to live very soon, and will not be allowed to leave France for a period of five to six months due to VISA restrictions. We will then return to The Philippines for our church ceremony during May 2008 and will then return to France. There could be more complications but that is next year and we'll deal with that then!
Other Thank yous
Firstly: Efondo family for giving their blessing for the wedding
Secondly: all family and friends who gave support and good wishes to both parties
John, Peter and Mum: for helping Sandy to communicate with Joanne from Amsterdam
Mum and household: for providing Sandy with accomodation and putting up with his constant moaning and stressing
John: for support and many free taxi fares
Mike & Di: for accomodation and patience
Alliance & Leicester cashier: for helping me to withdraw money using no ID
Stansted Airport: for finding and delivering my luggage to the front-door within 18 hours of it being lost
The Passport Office in London: for being incredibly kind and helpful and turning around a new passport for me within three hours
Liz and Lyn: for arranging and taking the time to sign my passport application
Aurora: for enabling me to finally buy my ticket to Manila
Dad and a man I don't know from Las Pinas: for loaning us enough money to make the honeymoon possible
Paul (and Peter): for booking (and agreeing to book) the honeymoon flights/hotel/trains for us
Efondo family: for providing us both with food and accomodation for two months! (as well as accepting a foreignor with odd customs into the household)