When you travel abroad, the bureaucracy of passports, visas and entry permits can be complicated. When you are in possession of multiple citizenships, the complexities deepen.
Here’s how human lives can make a four-month ordeal out of a process that’s seemingly been transformed by the wonders of modern technology.
This all began in December, a few days after my wife, Nancy, and I booked a cruise around the British Isles. I made the wise decision to check my U.S. passport. It expired in late June, well after our cruise at the end of May, but countries tend not to accept passports unless they are valid for six months or so after the end of your visit. Obviously, I needed to renew.
It is a breeze to renew your passport online. All you need is a credit card, your old passport and a digital photograph, best taken at a pharmacy. It took me an inordinate amount of time to get a selfie with open eyes and closed mouth against a plain, shadow-free background. A website walks you through questions, photo upload and payments; within a month I had a new U.S. passport to carry in case I, an immigrant, am accosted by Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
A month later, in mid-March, my wife and I got emails from the cruise line saying that to land in England, we needed an electronic travel authorization. We could download an application form for our phones. What we learned was that Nancy, a dual citizen of the United States and Canada, could apply; I, with citizenships for the United States, Canada and the United Kingdom, could not. The rules explicitly state that U.K. citizens cannot use an electronic travel authorization to enter the U.K., but would have to present a U.K. passport or a certificate of entitlement before boarding my outgoing flight to show I had the right of abode.
I considered for a moment lying, claiming I was not a U.K. citizen, but was deterred by a note on the application form threatening perjurers with all kinds of punishment.
My U.K. passport was very old. It had expired some 30 years ago, with a photo showing me slim and bearded – I am plump, clean-shaven and jowly. I agonized for two days and a couple of sleepless nights, but a couple of issues helped me decide: A passport renewal would not need an interview, a certificate would. A new passport costs about $100, a certificate about $500. I decided for the passport and part of my anxiety went away.
Again a user-friendly website led one through the steps, but I hit a real roadblock in that my passport was so old it could not be renewed. A new passport might require an interview at the local passport office on Canal Street in Boston (it didn’t, but anxiety spiked as time was moving on.) and did require another photograph – this time bought at a local pharmacy – and an attestation from a U.K. friend in a professional category (e.g., doctor, lawyer, professor) that the photo was a good likeness. I was fortunate that my old friend from the London Business School, Andrew Pettigrew, had visited Harvard recently. We lunched at Harvest. He knew what I looked like. After my application was complete, the passport office sent him a link to my photograph. Within 30 minutes he had reported it was a true likeness. Thank you, Andrew!
I was also fortunate that I had the required supporting documents: birth certificate, old passport and my parents’ passports – the advantage of being an only child, as I do not know what would have happened if I had not had these old passports in my bottom drawer. I had to courier them to an office in England.
Filling out the forms, I hit snags.
They asked me to enter my parents’ birthdays. My mother was born Christmas Day in 1896, and the form accepted it; my father was born Dec. 29, 1892, and the form would not accept it. The system kept asking for “a valid date.” I had to check “Don’t know” and explain why in a box that popped up.
They asked me for the date of my parents’ wedding. My parents had married later in life. I knew the month (December) and the year (1938) and even the place (the Hendon registrar’s office) but not the day, nor could I find it on the U.K.’s General Registry Office website. The form would not accept an incomplete date, so I had to check “Don’t know” again.
Fortunately, these did not slow down the processing of my application. By March 23, the passport office had my application, my photo confirmation and documents. I waited. On April 8, I got a message saying my application had been approved, that it was printing and would be couriered for my travel in May. Hurray!
On April 11, I was told printing was complete, and the passport was with the courier. I expected it would take some time to reach the USA from Britain. On April 15-16 came a series of confusing messages from the courier: My passport would be delivered on the 16th, then on the 20th, then midday on the 16th, sometime after 5 p.m. There were strict instructions it would be delivered only if someone was there to sign for it, and, alas, we were out. I went to the website and rescheduled for April 17. They sent a message it would arrive around midday April 17. I couldn’t wait! But I had to. At 1:30 p.m. I received a message that the delivery was delayed until 3:30 p.m.
I found the passport on my doorstep at 3:06 p.m. – so much for requiring a signature.
But I am so happy to have my British passport.
My wife, Nancy applied for the electronic travel authorization online using her U.S. passport, a photograph and a credit card. The final step was getting the ETA connected to the passport. Who knew the back cover of a passport contains an electronic device? You just place the passport onto your iPhone and a link is made.
At the end of May, we flew without incident to London. Our passports, one U.S., one U.K., were processed flawlessly by the machines at Heathrow Airport. The turnstiles opened and we were admitted.
By the way, to fly back to the United States, I had to use my U.S. passport. Go figure!
Martin G. Evans is a freelance writer. He writes about managerial and political issues, with contributions to The Boston Globe, Boston Business Journal and elsewhere, and was previously a professor at the Rotman School of Management, University of Toronto, and has taught at the London Business School, Harvard School of Public Health and elsewhere.
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