Cutting it fine

We still hadn't heard about moving to Canada when we got up this morning, so decided to see the changing of the guard outside the parliament on our way to Bella Vista, the bohemian quarter of Santiago. We wanted some lapis lazuli as a souvenir from Chile as it is only found in Chile and Afghanistan (yeah, we found this odd too). The lapis was very expensive in Bella Vista, but the journey wasn't wasted as we had a tour of Pablo Neruda's house. Pablo was a Chilean poet and diplomat who won the Nobel prize for literature in 1971. He was a very eccentric man who collected anything and everything. He loved the sea and his house in Santiago was designed in a ship style. The rooms are long and narrow with low ceilings. Lots of the furniture had come from boats such as the port hole windows. A tree that had grown where Pablo wanted to build his house was left and turned into a mast in the lounge. Pablo was a good friend of Salvador Allende, the President of Chile before the Pinochet coup in 1973. During the coup, Salvador was offered exile abroad but he stayed in parliament, telling Chileans that these dark days would pass. He died in parliament during the coup. Pablo died a fortnight after the coup, some say of a broken heart for his good friend and for his country. Pablo's houses in Chile were ransacked by the Pinochet regime and a lot of the paintings he'd been given by famous artist friends such as Picasso were destroyed.

After the tour we went to the museum we'd visited a day earlier and the market in the main square to buy our souvenirs. Then we went back to the hotel to see if there was any news about us going to Canada. It was 4pm and we had to be at the airport by 7pm if we were to catch our flight. There was no work permit waiting for us. Over the next hour I called my new company and the immigration consultants. Everyone was doing everything they could but I still didn't have the work permit. There was half and hour to go before we had to leave for the airport if we were to make the plane and the immigration consultants said they could fax me a letter and I could apply for the work permit when I got to Toronto airport. Of course there could well be an interview and if I failed we'd both be escorted out of the country. Hmm, no pressure then, ok we'll go for that. Even that was not straight forward as it took me far too long to get the gravity of the situation across to the hotel staff that I needed to get the fax off them. By this time Sarah was getting hysterical and trying her best to find the worst in the situation. I had to kiss her to shut her up.

The fax came through and we ran out to get a taxi. The hotel concierge had got the hang off our urgency and told the taxi driver to step on it. We got to the airport just in time for our flight. During the flight I read all the information I had about the job, but I needed have worried as the most difficult question was what is my job title. We were in!