Ninety has been the magic number looming over us since Brexit. All second-home owners will know what I mean.
Whether it has curtailed our time in France or just made us worry about it, the 90/180 days rule has had a deadening effect on our lives.
The obvious way around this is a long-stay visa and many Connexion readers have had them, but reports of complications have put me off until now.
So, if you have been thinking of getting a visa but were unsure, you might learn from my experience. Everyone is different – I am British, so other countries might have other procedures – but this is how it worked for me.
The first thing to say is that no step of the process was particularly difficult, but there are a lot of steps, and you must get them in the right order.
Secondly, there are two organisations involved: the French consulate, which issues the visa, and TLScontact, a private company that handles applications for several countries.
You begin the process by applying at France-visas.gouv.fr, starting with a ‘quiz’ to determine which visa you need.
Confusion questions
The application questions are not taxing, but some are confusing: for example, my wife and I were both applying, but I did not know if that made us a ‘group’.
As I was unsure, I initially missed the opportunity to group our applications, so we wasted time by deleting completed forms and starting again.
At the final stage, before submitting the application, you must make an appointment with TLScontact, which means opening up a new page.
As first-timers, we assumed available appointments were individual, ie. that if I booked 10:00, my wife would have to book 10:30 – which turned out to be wrong.
After spending hours on our laptop, we paid our £47.66 fees to TLScontact, put the appointments in the diary, and breathed a sigh of relief.
Getting the documents ready
The day before, nine days later, we gathered the required documents we had noted down; involving the inevitable home-printer faff.
Bank statements for the past three months: check. Marriage certificate: check. Proof of French accommodation: check. GHIC: check. Travel insurance: check. Passports: check.
And photos. We went to our post office, which has a booth, but were warned that countries have varying photo requirements, so we decided to get our pictures done at the visa centre instead – which saved us twenty wasted quid.
We arrived early in Manchester thinking we could get our pictures done, but were told to wait outside as they would be taken during the appointment.
My appointment was at 10am and only I was initially allowed to go upstairs. These weren’t individual appointments, just time slots, and interviews were at a long counter, several at a time.
While the process is bureaucratic, staff were very helpful – and patient. When I explained about my wife waiting downstairs, they allowed her to come up at the same time.
The other thing to stress is paper. I don’t know what happened to the concept of the paperless office, but I had a big bundle in my hand, and it was not enough.
Did I have a print-out of my application? Er, no, I filled it in online. No problem, they could print it out for me – for an extra £15.
Weeks of waiting
We took our ticket and waited to be called. Did we have our printed statements that we would not work in France? Er, no… but at least this one did not come at a cost: “Just write it out on this piece of paper, please, and sign it”.
We were directed to a photographer and quickly realised those post office pictures would have been useless. My wife had to remove her jacket and put a scarf over her shoulders, then remove her earrings, then put on a band to push hair off her face.
Another £10 per person – and two leftover photos each that neither of us will be rushing to share on social media.
Back to the desk and we handed everything over. Except the woman did not ask for the travel insurance or the marriage certificate.
She did, however, keep the copies of our bank statements. Who gets to examine them? A bit concerning for anyone worried about financial confidentiality.
Once everything was in order, we received our files and were directed to another section, where we waited to be fingerprinted – and have our photos taken again (I do not know why).
We were then sent on our way with a promise that we would be called back in 10 to 15 working days. One final paper demand: bring photocopies of our driving licences.
A couple of weeks later, emails told us our passports were ready. We could have had them sent to us for another £32 each: convenient, but a train to Manchester is easy for us and costs less.
We queued up to show our documents, were handed envelopes with our passports and that was it – apart from being told off for opening them in the office.
Do they think it is a better idea to wave your passport on the street outside?
So, we now have passports with visas, and, for this year at least, we can forget about how many days we spend in France and when. Just like the old days.
It has cost us £158.45 each, plus train fares. Was it worth it? Maybe, for the peace of mind, but we shall see.
If so, we will have to start the whole process all over again next year – but at least we will know what to expect.
