My Schengen Visa Nightmare Road Trip Prep
So, I got this wild idea last fall. Drive across Europe. Just pick a car, point it somewhere sunny, and go. Sounds awesome, right? Yeah, well, I totally forgot about the visa part.
First thing I did? Panic. A lot. Looked up Schengen visas online and almost gave up right there. Holy paperwork, Batman. Needed to pick a ‘main country’ to apply through. Picked France ’cause my flight landed there. Big mistake maybe? Who knows.
Then came the document hunt. Man, this felt like doing homework for your meanest teacher ever.
- Application form itself: Took me two hours filling out that monster online. So many tiny boxes. Kept worrying I clicked the wrong thing.
- Passport photos: Ran around town looking for a booth that did the exact right size. First place tried charged way too much. Found a cheaper one near the train station.
- Flight booking: Just booked a cheap refundable ticket online to show them. Heart skipped a beat hitting ‘pay’.
- Hotel stuff: I mean, it’s a road trip. I had NO clue where I’d sleep past day 3. Went on * and made bookings that let me cancel for free. Picked the cheapest options. Printed them all out.
- Bank statements: Had to bug my bank for the last three months. Nearly choked seeing the numbers on paper.
- Letter from work: My boss just looked tired when I asked. HR sent this weirdly formal note mentioning my salary and vacation dates.
- Travel insurance: Found one online claiming it covered Schengen. Paid for the year. Got the docs.
Booking the actual embassy appointment? Pure torture. The France visa website felt ancient. Refresh, refresh, refresh… nothing. Days went by. Finally snagged a slot at 10:30 AM on a Tuesday. Month away. Prayed nothing messed up my schedule.
Appointment day. Got there way too early. Security guy was grumpy. People waiting looked stressed. My turn came up, handed over my massive stack. Lady barely glanced at me.
- “Purpose of visit?” Road trip.
- “How long?” Two weeks.
- “Where staying?” Shoved my printed bookings at her. She frowned. Probably knew they were fake. Didn’t say anything.
Fingers scanned, fee paid. Felt like robbery for a piece of paper. Then… nothing. Waited weeks.
Checked the tracking site constantly. Just said “processing”. Started sweating bullets thinking about that flight ticket money. What if it failed? Then, bam! Email pops up: “Passport ready for collection.”
Ran back to the visa center. Heart hammering. Ripped open the envelope. Saw those tiny visa stickers stuck in my passport. Relief! Only good for the dates I asked for, no fun extra days. But hey, I got it!
The whole thing felt like jumping through flaming hoops blindfolded. Took weeks, cost more money than I care to remember, and stressed me out hard. Honestly? Kinda stole some joy from the whole road trip dream.
You put up with it because driving past some French mountains or Italian beaches sounds awesome. But man, getting that sticker? It’s like fighting a cranky dragon just for permission to visit its swamp.
