Last week I received an invitation to Budapest, Hungary, to attend a three-day motorcar rally. While I am not a Grand Prix aficionado, the prospect of visiting a country formerly behind the iron curtain intrigued me.
The exclusion of such countries in the past from my travel itinerary was perhaps due to a false but ingrained notion that languages, facilities and services in these countries would be too alien to meet my expectations. But this is the 21st century, and things may have changed. Besides, the trip was all expenses paid. What did I have to lose?
I called the Hungarian Consulate in Jeddah, only to be given a number for the Hungarian Embassy in Riyadh. Apparently, there aren’t enough Hungarians here to warrant more than one diplomatic office in the country. And I wasn’t sure we would require visas anyway.
A lady with an Arab accent answered my call. Speaking in English, I asked her about the visa requirements for a trip to Hungary. After determining my nationality, she provided the requirements: At least five weeks processing time. A copy of my letter of invitation. Three passport photographs. A letter of service from my place of employment. Proof of medical insurance. An X number of Saudi riyals to cover visa processing costs. And most importantly, my passport bearing my signature.
Right away I smelled trouble, and before she could continue, I blurted out: “But wait a minute. Saudi passports do not have the signature of the bearer. They have this laminated page over our particulars, and there is no way I can get a signature onto this document. Surely there must be some exceptions.”
For someone who for so long has been used to traveling on a whim and with the least amount of preparation, these conditions were totally foreign to me.
“I’m sorry Sir, but the requirement at the port of entry in Hungary is that your passport must carry your signature. I cannot bend the rules.” As I mulled over this obstacle, another one popped up. “And another thing. You told me the minimum processing time for the visa would be five weeks, but the start of the rally is in eight days. Now how do you suppose the visa would do me any good?”
“Well, we could perhaps try to expedite it and reduce the time by one week,” was her helpful reply. “And if you go to the DHL office in Jeddah and submit all the required papers, along with the application, we could begin on it as soon as it gets here.”
“That still doesn’t do me any good, but thanks anyway,” I concluded, disappointed but grudgingly realizing that the times have indeed changed, and maybe the actions of some of our imprudent citizenry are finally catching up with us all.
