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Last weekend, a long weekend for me, was preplanned to be the perfect vacation. I was going to cross the border into the U.S. and hit the beaches on the Olympic Penninsula. I had planned to go horseback riding and spend some time just thinking about life. I took two extra days off work so my weekend was actually a week and I was all set.
I had to work Saturday, so I caught the earliest ferry possible off of Saltspring Island, where I live. I ended up catching the 5:45 pm which got in late to the other side and I ended up speeding to catch the ferry from Victoria to Port Angeles. (The joys of living on islands!). I just barely made it, the cars were already loading and I was put in a standby lane. To my surprise and joy, the standby lane made it, I was going to get on the ferry. However, because this sailing crosses a border, you have to show ID and answer a couple basic questions before boarding. The customs officer I got was grumpy and annoyed, having been there all day, I suppose. He gave me the third degree, asking where I worked and how much money I had. I didn’t have any U.S. money on me, but I had a bank card and a VISA, so I figured I was ok. Wrong. After questioning me for a good ten minutes, looking at my credit card and writing stuff down about me, he told me I couldn’t leave the country unless I showed him proof of employment or a bank statement that showed I had enough money to look after myself. Obviously, I don’t carry proof of employment with me and I didn’t have a bank statement with me. To make a long story short, I ended up sleeping in my car that night and returning to the ferry in the morning in hopes of a shift change. Sure enough, different people were there and I managed to get on with a minimum of fuss. On the other side, in Port Angeles, you have to go through the actual customs and there I was promptly told to pull over (the only car on the ferry to get pulled) and they searched my vehicle while I had to stand at a distance. Finally, after all that, I dragged myself out of the town, determined to find a nice beach. Not ten minutes later, it started to rain. The kind of rain that you have to slow down in, even with your windshielf wipers on high. The rain lasted all day long. I didn’t find any nice beaches anyhow and spent approximately 15 hours completely lost.
The copyright of the article When Good Trips Go Bad in Youth Travel is owned by . Permission to republish When Good Trips Go Bad in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
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