I LOVE BELGIUM!......Or the twists and turns of the Belgium beaurocracy........Or WTF??!

Well, we are well overdue for an update on our residency saga, but frankly I am emotionally exhausted and the shock is only starting to wear off now.  Also, inconveniently, we had no internet for a couple of days (waaahhhhhhh - how did people use to survive without constant access to the outside world?!)

So the big question is: is it possible that 8 weeks worth of work could possibly be accomplished in 8 hours?

The answer, my friends, is YES.

Here's how the whole deal went down..... 

As you know, last Friday we got totally slammed again and given an 8 week wait to get our ID cards. Then, as an accompanying saga to try and collect the car (the one that we have paid for and is sitting in the dealers garage while we rack up huge rental car fees), the alternate, try to get around the ridiculous beaurocracy route, was not quite as simple as had been suggested.  Again, a trip to the licence plate agency with what we thought was all the complete and necessary paperwork, resulted in being told that NON, the invoice for the car was not the correct one, and we needed an additional proof that we were in the process of waiting for our ID cards from the commune.  Sigh... apparently there is a form called an annexe 19 that says we are waiting for our application to be processed. 

So, again, on Tuesday, I make the usual trip to my favourite place in the world. Luckily it is a 5 minute walk from the apartment and it is a sleepy commune and very few queues at the offices.  I politely request an annexe 19. Unfortunately, but of course, we are not allowed an Annexe 19. They are for special people, not plebs like us who come to Belgium on a mere working Visa.  Hmmmm. Ok. But I need proof. PROOF. WHAT CAN YOU GIVE ME???!!  The guy who has again turned unhelpful is shouting at me from the back desk- I said I will call you, I said I will call you.  Nope, I am not leaving without some committment of something tangible. We need this darn car ASAP and a couple of people who do not liking working are not going to stand in my way this time... squeaky wheels and all that.. 

Finally, after some concession, I am allowed to get an annexe 15 which is essentially a proof of address (given that the policeman has already verified that I am legit).  We had already received one of these from the Ixelles commune (which incidentally took a grand total of 1 minute to prepare and was prepared for us on the spot) but that was no longer valid of course. The dude is telling me it will take some time, some time. Yes. Yes. I KNOW everything "takes some time" here. He asks me to come back the next morning. 

My day continues and I feel like things are starting to get back on track...when I get a totally random and out of the blue telephone call at 4pm from Monsieur from the commune. What?!! I didn't even know he worked that late!!! Frankly I am beyond shocked. He is jabbering to  me in french and I am understanding about 1 word in 10. Something about me, birth, Belgium, is it true? Um, yes. I was born in Belgium. That's why it is listed as my birth place on ALL MY DOCUMENTS and my passport. No I wasn't registered. He didn't seem concerned about this. Then more incomprehensible french and something about coming tomorrow morning to get our cards and bring ID photos.  To say I was confused would be an understatement. Did he mean to collect the annexe 15s which I had requested (which also need ID photos)?  He definitely said carte. He definitely did not say annexe 15.  30 minutes later the plot thickens as he calls back again - do I have a marriage certificate and birth certificates? Yes of course. But we have already submitted them to the embassy for the visas (and all the websites say that they are not required with a visa once we get to Belgium anyway). No, no  I must bring them tomorrow morning. 

A little bit of hope flickers in me that somehow, someway, we may be further along the process than I even dare to believe. Of course the fact that Monsieur had had our files in his possession for the last 3.5 weeks and had only just opened them to do the work I had requested at 4pm that day, should not surprise me. But it did appear that he was rather flustered and surprised that I was born here. Maybe I should really be making a big point of this in the future.... it seems to bear some weight in these matters!

Wednesday morning, I am trying not to get my hopes up. Having been far too optimistic in the past, I have learnt to expect the worst in all situations. But I can't help it. I, on the most part, expect things to go well even if all evidence points to the contrary.  I trot off to my favourite place in Belgium for the second morning in a row. Ten minutes after opening, there is a queue of 5 people in the aliens line (yep that's what I am). Monsieur is NOT making eye contact with me. This cannot be a good sign. Finally, it is my turn. He asks me why I am there. Sigh. All sorts of wild thoughts fly through my head, but calmly I say that I have the ID photos and the documents he requested.  Then it becomes clear why he wanted these documents for the file. Passports only state the town of birth, not country, so he had gone onto Google to find these places and according to him I had birthed in NZ, Australia, Canada and USA. Hahahahaha, that really would be something.  After working a while in silence. He gives me the big news. HE HAS OUR ID NUMBERS. Yes I can see them. He shows them to me. OH MY GOODNESS they are so close I can almost touch them.... (So, if I calculate correctly, he obtained them between 4pm and finishing work the night before,probably 5pm,  and/or between his start time, probably 8:30 and 9am this morning. Hmmm. That don't sound like a 3 week process to me?!) Before I can ask, he tells me that no I cannot have them yet, he hasn't had time since 4pm the day before to finish all the paperwork associated with it (I refrained from suggesting that maybe he could have started it a little earlier in the day yesterday, and just nodded agreeably and commiseratively).  I would need to come back tomorrow. Oh and my birth certificate looks like a dog's breakfast so can I please go to the commune in Uccle to get a new one. Yes, before tomorrow. 

Feeling extremely optimistic I scoot home to find the best way to get to Uccle from our place, only to find that it is an hour each way supposedly. It is 10:30am and the kids finish school at 12:10 and must be collected by 12:30pm or no doubt something dire would befall them.  Feeling fairly high levels of stress I grab a copy of my birth certificate (as Monsieur has kept all the originals) and speedily make my way to this new commune, praying that: a) I find my way without a map b) there are no queues c) that it can be done immediately.

It all goes pretty smoothly. The woman is a bit confused about why I would need a new birth certificate, I am not sure I explained it well enough. But she prints out a scrappy tiny piece of paper with my birth details on it and stamps it. That is suffit (enough). I am not convinced but I take it and hightail it as fast as possible back to the school in time for pick up. I have no time for arguments or discussions. 

Later this day, 4pm, hubby gets a call from Monsieur asking him to come to the commune to collect his ID number and card. Phew. I was a little worried, but had not said anything to rock the boat of goodwill we seem to have fallen into, that he was only processing myself and the kids (given my new special status of being born in Belgium). 

As hubby had to work in the morning, we decided that I would go first thing and get mine and the kids paperwork processed and ask very kindly (and with several hints of desperation) for the ID numbers for all of us so we could go the bank before closing time so that we can get our car license plates processed before the weekend. 

Thursday morning, I make the very familiar trek to my favourite place in Belgium, 3rd day in a row. Again a queue, but it moves fast. I hand Monsieur the scrappy piece of paper from the Uccle commune. Perfect, he declares. Seriously? I am no longer capable of comprehending how this country works...! Unfortunately, he tells me now, I cannot get my paperwork processed as it must be done AFTER hubby's as he is the primary visa holder. I just kind of look at him. I make a last ditch plea- please can I have the numbers? I need them today for the bank, car, school, my sick grandmother, my elderly cat etc etc etc. Oh but I was just going to do this for you right now, he states.  Lots of smiles, thank you's, you are the kindest man on the planet sort of exchanges take place and I leave with NATIONAL ID NUMBERS for our whole family. What a sense of achievement!

Hubby manages to cancel some stuff and gets home in time to go to the commune again in the afternoon before it closes at 2pm. We arrive at 12:40 (luckily as there is a sign on the desk saying that Monsieur does not close at 2pm, he in fact closes at 1pm).  What ensues is just beautiful... Monsieur processes all our paperwork, completes the applications, provides us with the temporary attestations for our cards and it is all good humour and happiness all round. It takes an hour. Poor guy is working into his lunch hour and well beyond but at this point we are best buddies.  And there is so much goodwill it is unbelievable. A few minor hiccups along the way (why wouldn't there be? This is Belgium). Apparently, hubby's birth certificate is not valid in Belgium. I had trouble following the reason why but a secondary reason was that it had not been apostilled (we had not got it done as it wasn't required for the work visa). Getting anything out of South africa I am sure, would be a long drawn out nightmare process. Normally, it is not a problem, we are assured by Monsieur, normally (but it could be, being the underlying assumption). Let's hope this does not cause any difficulties. Secondly, apparently our marriage certificate is not valid either! For goodness sakes, why not?!!!!  Well, it does not state that from the date on the marriage certificate, I changed my surname from my maiden name to my married name. I explain that marriage certificates in NZ DO NOT STATE THIS EVER.  Apparently, in Belgium, this is what is required. Normally, I would have to visit the NZ embassy and request an attestation from them that I had changed my surname from the date of the marriage certificate. But, and here is where Monsieur became Monsieur BFF (best friend forever), he is going to overlook this minor detail and accept the legitimacy of the marriage certificate as it stands.  

Here we are - legally resident!

I cannot believe the lucky break we have got- going from an 8 week wait, to getting the numbers processed within an afternoon, and I am extremely grateful that we were not sent on our way to get "acceptable" south african birth certificates and marriage certificates as I don't know that we would have finished this process before christmas if so.... So in the space of a week, despair and despondency has turned to joy and elation. We have numbers, temporary cards, and our car is well on it's way to completing that process (I will write about that saga another day). And our internet has been fixed. Halleluia. It is a good day. Just in time as next week is school holidays and I cannot imagine trying to get all this done with 4 bored, hungry, tired, grumpy kids in tow....

A la prochaine.... xx

Arriving in Belgium - Part two

So we have had the weekend to re-group, re-strategise and come up with a new plan after the ID card fiasco on Friday. Most people I have talked to about this process are surprised we have had so much trouble, so after a little bit of research, I have found a system for EU citizens. These very special people receive an ID number the moment they walk in the door at their very first visit. The commune clerks enter their details onto a national database and a number is automatically generated. Unfortunately, this system does not apply to us non-EU people and in fact, their is no published information that I can find anywhere. Except we have to wait.  Patience is a virtue :) even if it drives you batty in the process. 

So we have a new plan to retrieve our car and stop paying exorbitant fees for rental vehicles...will update if it is successful.  I have been assured by other expats on facebook that "This is Belgium, what can go wrong." Hmm, that is PRECISELY why I am a little anxious over the whole thing...

Anyway, to pick up from the rest of our journey, we arrived in Abu Dhabi.  I must admit my expectations were pretty low (except for the airport which I had assumed would be 5 star).  We were staying just over 24 hours here as this seemed infinitely better to do then to spend 3 hours and hop back onto another 8 hour flight.  My cousin, very generously offered us accommodation while they were away.  

My pre-conceived ideas of Abu Dhabi were of tiny, crowded apartments a la Hong Kong and crowds of people. Wrong wrong wrong. Goodness knows where I got those ideas from?! The accommodation was enormous, and beautiful. The facilities were amazing. I am not entirely sure where we were exactly in the city (due to the jetlagged stress induced haze) but the place was almost deserted.  The weather was amazing and the views were stunning. A highlight was a seaplane that landed and took off right beside us on the water.  We caught up with old friends whom had never met hubby or any of the offspring. And despite the number of years since I had last seen them being too many to count, nothing had changed. It was lovely to reconnect and share experiences.  All in all, we had a wonderful 24 hour stopover and felt a bit more refreshed to carry on for the rest of the journey. Next time round we will definitely look to stay a bit longer to be able to see some sights. 

Early the next morning (5:30am?) we were back to the airport again.  It was like a market place, crowded, people sitting in large groups on the floor everywhere, no proper places or systems to queue, but after a refreshing sleep, it was bearable.  Again we used the departure service who took us through the first class baggage check in process. Well worth the weight in money.  We were able to sit in the lounge while they organised our baggage and customs clearance.  

The flight to Brussels felt short- only 8 hours or so and was fairly uneventful.  I had booked a porter at Brussels airport to help with our 16 pieces of luggage. The booking process is probably an indication of how it works in Belgium.  There appeared to be no real weblink to the service, just an instruction to send an email to a random address.  This went unanswered for many days and I had actually forgotten about it, but 2 days before we left we got a confirmation that a porter had been booked and we would need to pay him cash. No other useful information about how we were supposed to find or recognise this guy or anything. 

Miraculously we did find him.  At the baggage claim area, a guy wearing what looked like scruffy street wear came up to me and babbled to me in French.  How he knew that I was the one, I have no idea unless he was going up to all the passengers and asking them all? It is quite possible the sheer mountain of luggage might have provided a vital clue for him though. 

He decided to use an industrial size baggage trolley instead of the normal ones (good plan!) and we head off to catch the free shuttle bus to the hotel. Of course, the hotel bus is not working today.  Which is only apparent after we wait a while and then ring the hotel. (Signs are very USEFUL, people!).  They send us back inside to wait for a taxi. We explain we will need two.  So, one arrives.  Me, the kids and as much baggage as possible climb aboard and head to the hotel to check in.  The hotel sends a second taxi which never arrives, but luckily the first taxi driver is a great dude and he goes back to collect hubby and the mountain of luggage. 

We had 2 days at the Grand Plaza hotel. The kids loved the foyer and the glass elevators which provided a lot of entertainment.  We had left Brisbane just before the heat wave struck (thank goodness) but it was still 30 degrees, spent time in Abu Dhabi which was also pretty pleasant summery temperature and arrived in Brussels during one of their mildest winters, thank goodness- it was only 3-4 degrees. And not snowing. Huge bonus as at this point in time, the little D had worn crocs everyday for the last 7 months and even though I had brought shoes for him, these were too small when I eventually tried them on him. He was not going to accept any shoes except his beloved crocs for at least another 2 weeks. (A process that involved about an hour of crying, screaming and generally trying to remove the new shoes from his body and throw them as far away as possible).  He's 3 and in the phase of un-reasonable. 

While at the hotel, we managed to open a bank account in the nearby town. Wow.  We only tried two banks. The first was unable to help us as they were "too busy" doing their paperwork.??? What??? Sigh, yes. This is how it is. And they shut for an hour each lunchtime (during the normal work lunch time) - how are people meant to do anything??! 

I felt very proud of my kids for coping so well this whole time. In the space of the 2.5 weeks since we had left the house where we had lived for the last almost 5 years, they had had to stay in 6 different apartments/accommodations. It's a lot for little people who are used to routine to familiarity. 

Here's the result of the looonnng journey... 

And this was the beginning of our Belgium adventure :).  A bientot! 

Shut down AGAIN.... OR.... How on earth does anything happen in this country?...OR ..Do they just hate us and are trying to subtly get us to leave by being ridiculous?

So today I will take a break from the niceties of reminiscing about our plane trip and have a wee rant about this damn beaurocratic nightmare that we are in the midst of.  Who would think that flying long haul with 4 kids is actually easier and more enjoyable than navigating the paperwork Mt Everest that is the Belgian administrative system.

I am requiring a second coffee and lots of chocolate cake to feel calm enough to write anything....

Today was supposed to be D-Day (delivery of our identification numbers so we can actually participate as normal citizens and commence actually living in Brussels properly).  Sadly the high hopes and expectations which had built up after being dashed to pieces over the last few weeks were again destroyed by the town hall commune staff who appear to try everything in their power to avoid doing any actual work.

Here is a brief summary of how things work in Belgium as a foreign (non EU immigrant) as it is a little mind-blowing having experienced the efficiency of all things administrative in NZ and even Australia is looking positively awesome in this respect now.

When you arrive in the country, you have 10 days to present yourself and your family to the local commune (town hall).  (As we were arriving on the 29th December, we had a few public holidays in that time period to complicate matters). This registers your arrival in the local area.  Then they send a police man/lady to your address that you have registered at a random time of day sometime in the 1-3 weeks following this registration process. Then they give you an appointment to come back to the commune to get your ID number. Then they make your ID card, then life is rosy and all is good and we go singing away about how wonderful Belgium is. Sounds a bit of a process, but reasonably straight forward right?

Well, we were super organised and presented the day we arrived in Ixelles (central Brussels) where we had a one month lease on an apartment.  Foolishly thought that we had plenty of time to get through the process.... the Commune staff must have been spluttering into their coffees... After going to 3, yes 3, separate commune buildings (in the freezing cold-4 degrees, with 4 kids and D was still in the phase of only wearing shorts and crocs without socks on, no hat, no jacket which is another story) we finally found the correct building.  Only to find the queue out the door. I should also mention that they do not work very much.  The office closes at 1pm everyday and not open on weekends. There were 4 guichets (windows) with scrawled handwritten signs beside each.  Only 1 guichet was for foreignors but it was a little confusing what the others did as the queue was only for the 1 foreignor guichet and the other clerks appeared to not be very busy at all. We made it to the front and attempted using Dutch- not successful (Brussels is supposed to be a bilingual city but it is decidedly not). Pigeon french and english it was then.  All seemed to be straight forward, the guy looked at our passports and scrawled down mine and hubbys names and details on a scrappy piece of paper and then the kids names with " for the last name and no DOBs or other details.  Ok, interesting.  There did appear to be a computer behind the desk but it may just have been a decoration.  We were duly sent on our way and felt rather optimistic to have accomplished such a monumental task so quickly (fools I tell ya!).   I was then sent to stay home until such a time that the police deigned to visit me to prove that I was indeed living at this address. I was a little concerned that the commune guy may have just dumped the scrappy piece of paper in the bin, but apparently the visit was processed accordingly. The police visit happened surprisingly quickly and easily. She came on the 8th January.  I am not quite sure what happens if you are not home? Do they keep coming back? Do they make you wait longer?  Who knows. It is probably one of the deep dark mysteries of the Belgian beaurocracy and a strategy to inflict more pain on unsuspecting foreignors.

The police gave us an appointment dated 24th February! Yes - almost 7 weeks later. OMG. @*@#$* would it really take that long to get our identity numbers? Well it became even more complicated as our lease was until the 31 Jan and then we had to move and we were not going to be living in Ixelles (too far from school and from access to hubby's work) so on the 24th of February WE WERE NOT EVEN GOING TO BE RESIDENTS IN IXELLES ANYMORE so the whole damn process would grind to a halt.

Then came a period of extreme stress and drama as we searched for an apartment and 1 week before we had to leave Ixelles we still didn't have anywhere to live. (And as you usually sign 3-9 year leases on apartments plus pay a forfeit of 3 months rent if you leave within the first year, we really had to find the place where we wanted to stay).  Happily, we got an apartment in the area that I wanted - Berchem St-Agathe. This is the one rosy aspect of this story. I had visited the area and set my heart on living here. We managed to get approved to rent the one and ONLY available 3 bedroom apartment in the entire commune.  It has a population of 20,000 people, how can there be so few rentals available? And no houses at all to rent. I felt relieved and blessed that at least one good thing had happened along this process.

The day we got the lease agreement signed, we merrily skipped into the Berchem St Agathe commune to START THIS WHOLE IDENTITY CARD PROCESS AGAIN FROM SCRATCH.  Berchem borders on Flanders and supposedly has quite a high dutch speaking population compared to the rest of Brussels. As hubby's dutch is a thousand times better than my french I let him do the talking. Bad idea. Commune clerk #1 - zero dutch, so she got her colleague. Commune clerk #2- man who does not want to work and tries to avoid work at all costs, was not very helpful.  Apparently, da da dum, our lease agreement was NOT sufficient evidence of our  new address. Apparently, it had to be signed by the central registration office in Brussels. Back to the rental agency we went. They normally send it off for signing and it does not cost anything. How long does it take? I ask innocently. About a month or so, was the reply.  (aarg, eeekkkk lots of hand wringing and general heart palpitations). Ok, deep breaths, are we able to go ourselves in person to this agency and get it done? Yes! Although they seemed taken aback that anyone would want to do this ever.

Here's another rosy moment (cue happy music).  I went to the central office with my pigeon french (which also is only open very reduced hours) and the reception helpfully pointed where to go.  Then I did not have to wait long. Then the lady doing the registrations asked me if I had two copies. Heart in my mouth as I knew this MAY be a deal breaker and really I should have thought to make a gazillion copies before even attempting to get anything official done. But surprise upon surprise, it was not a problem and she even photocopied the document herself using her OWN photocopier. And with that it was done. I almost cried/kissed her/fainted. It was literally the first time we had accomplished anything at a first attempt without being sent away to get other random paperwork.

Back to the Berchem St Agathe commune we went. This time we knew not to speak dutch, this brought out unhelpful man who does not want to do any work. So pigeon french and lots of smiles and friendliness was on order. Mr 'don't want to do any work', suddenly became very Mr helpful and even gave me the direct number to the police station to call them to speed up the police visit if necessary.   Moral of the story- you MUST use French to get anything done in Brussels. even if it sounds like crap. And smile. A lot. Even if you feel like throttling them.  Which you will. Several times a day.

Life was looking good again. We settled into life in Berchem and I made a conscious effort to try and stay home in case I missed the random police visit.  We had specified that the visit should be before 3pm as that's when I leave to collect the kids from school.  After a few days into the first week, I get a little impatient so I called the police station. Turns out the one guy doing this job is not here for the rest of the week. Excellent.
Week two he finally shows up. Of course, he arrives at 3.05pm. I am outside walking along the pavement to the tram to collect the kids when I spot a policeman headed towards our apartment block. I race up to him to ask if he is here to visit me, and of course he is. I explain that I have to go get the kids from school. He asks if it is urgent. Duh, yes there is a reason I specified before 3pm.  But kindly he gave me his number to ring and he would come back that evening when I was home.

It was a lovely surprise to find out that we could go back to the commune only a week after this visit, instead of the 7 weeks that Ixelles had given us. So that brings up up to today, we merrily skipped back to the commune, a million documents in hand to cover every foreseeable possible request that they may have. Life was looking up. We knew we had to wait for the ID cards, but we had been told that we would get the ID numbers at the appointment. DA DUM DA. It is quite possible a national sport to try and make things as confusing as possible and as long and drawn out as possible for foreignors here. Mr helpful again was there and started speaking dutch to hubby. Think this must have jinxed everything as he was much more helpful when we were communicating in French. So apparently, we do NOT get the numbers today. We have to wait, oh another 3-4 weeks he thinks but its a bit vague, and then he will call us, and then another 3-4 weeks to get the ID cards made up. Yes, I kid you not. Crushed by the Belgian beaurocracy again.  There did not seem to be any official process to get the numbers. It quite possible that it is Mr don't want to do any work or one of his colleagues that has to get around to entering the information onto a computer. Oh wait, I am not sure they actually use computers as our file is a few pieces of paper with our photos taped to the inside of it that is kept in the commune building.In that case, it really is a mystery how the ID numbers get assigned. And of course it is "impossible" to speed things up at all. (although we can pay a bribe fee of 100eu to get the ID cards sooner).


So, despite my optimism from yesterday, we are still not registered residents of Brussels. We hope to get there before Christmas (trying to set my expectations very low so that we will be pleasantly surprised). ID numbers are essential for a lot of things but most importantly we are unable to pick up our car that we have bought and paid cash for and has been sitting in the dealers garage for the last 3 weeks, and will be there until we get the numbers.  I cannot put the kids names down on the waitlist for the school across the road from our apartment until we have the numbers. And we cannot access the family benefit scheme either which would be a very helpful addition to our finances while we are on such a minimum (slave labour) wage (in the name of training).

Would I wish the Belgian system on anyone? - only if I wanted to increase the number of admissions to mental institutions. For those that know us personally, we are normally very calm, unflustered and take everything within our stride, but this process has pushed us to limits that we never knew we had. I have no doubt that most people moving here have relocation experts, private companies and businesses who navigate this quagmire on behalf of them, and I am sure that it is quite manageable, albeit still a little frustrating with someone local holding your hand the whole way. We have had zero assistance from the workplace and had to do everything the most hardest possible way. It is certainly not a journey for the faint hearted.  No doubt it will become a laughing matter in the years to come, or a new low to which all other disasters will be compared to. I do have the foresight that this is just a phase to get through. THEY WILL NOT BREAK US -muwahahahahahha.  I will update when we make any more progress along this path...

Hopefully I have inspired others to move to Belgium too ;). hahahaha, I will write more about the good stuff soon I promise. Despite the above headaches (and a few others which I will update soon) we are really enjoying Belgium and living in a european city.  Brussels may not have a reputation as being one of the prettiest cities, but for me, walking around our little neighbourhood and the central areas, it is a feast for the eyes that does not exist downunder.

Well, it's been a looong time coming.... We arrived here on the 29th December and it's almost March! I kid you not when I say that we are still in the process of going through the administrative processes. It is hoped that by next week we will be officially allowed to live here, almost in time for us to pack up and go home again (haha not quite true but in my moments of despair it has felt like it).  But I digress.... I will start from the beginning- what on earth is a family of 6 (OMG 6 - yes 6- no we are not a freakshow and there are lots of bigger families out there,-  they just don't usually take long haul flights and public transport all at the same time) what are we doing in Belgium of all places?

When I started trying to explain to the kids school here in Brussels about our background for their paperwork, I suddenly realised how unusually complicated my family's background  is: I was born in Belgium, but Canadian by birth nationality and have a NZ passport. Hubby was born in Sth Africa but Croatian by birth but has a NZ passport.  2 of the kids were born in NZ and have NZ passports (ok that is pretty straight forward) and then 2 were born in Australia but with NZ passports. And finally we had just arrived from Australia. Phew.   So naturally going to live Belgium is the next logical step right?! With both of us being brought up from a young age bilingual, it has always been a desire of mine to provide this experience for my children too. And my language of preference is French (or italian, or spanish).  Belgium opened it's doors the easiest (albeit a bit unwillingly) and that's why we are here :) rather than say a more "normal" destination like the UK or america.

Why? Why ? Why? WHY? This question oddly did not really pass my mind prior to arriving here (it probably should have).  In hindsight, the 18 months it took for the king to sign hubby's paperwork and be allowed to work here was a little on the excessive side and should have given us a warning of what was to come.  It probably sets the scene further that this very important document had an error on it that was crossed out and rewritten in black pen!.  On a side note, they also found it confusing that his degree was from Sth Africa, his training in NZ and his specialist registration and work history in Australia. We did get mail that listed his degree being from Cape Town, Australia. Hmmm.

I was pretty concerned about flying such a long way with 4 kids in tow.  We have flown long haul before with young kids but never more than 2. 2 kids definitely seems manageable- 1 per adult- that does not sound hard at all. Except, I remember it being hard, and long, and tiring.  So how much worse would it be with 4? Especially through strange airports and long queues where they may not necessarily care two cents about how tough it is to fly with tired children? I was armed with lollies (copious amounts) and second and third and fourth wrapped late christmas presents (an absolutely brilliant idea that someone on a blog wrote about).

It was a bit of a logistical nightmare packing up.  Given that we were leaving and not just going on holiday, we had to pack up everything we owned. The container and storage had already done their bit so everything that was left had to either come in our suitcases or get thrown out..... 6 large checked in suitcases, 4 car seats, 4 carry-on suitcases and 2 backpacks later - we were ready to go :).  Luckily we had the help of some great friends who helped get us to the airport in 3 cars.

Here's the mountain of luggage (it's 3 deep). Looks like we are missing a child....

Oh, here he is... Yep suitcases on wheels are GREAT fun at airports, especially when the process takes at least half an hour at the counter.

We flew Etihad airways which was actually pretty cheap and the service was reasonable. In areality all we care about is that there is food and an endless supply of inflight kids entertainment.  The only hiccup was that they had forgotten our kids meals so instead they got to have indonesian curry and such like - I wish. They would rather starve than eat civilised food! On the plus, the staff were very apologetic and brought us all the leftovers (unserved) from the first class meals so we ended up having heaps of great food in the end.  8 hours later and we were stopping in Singapore for a refuel.  The flight had been remarkably uneventful. D's fascination with all forms of transport was enough for him to be able to survive the flight without  going into nuclear meltdown. After an hour in Singapore airport, we hopped back on the plane (sorry, I mean we queued in a small room, and slowly filed through to show our numerous passports to staff with guns, and retrieve the left behind items from the last flight, and then we got on the plane).   Another 8 hours to Abu Dhabi- best flight ever! They SLEPT. This has never happened to me before!  Minor screeching meltdowns on waking from the little two but I couldn't really blame them. Somewhere along the way, C burst her eardrum. That was not fun and the poor thing was pretty miserable about it.

Abu Dhabi- I had been really looking forward to this part of the trip.  Foolishly, I had lumped Abu Dhabi airport in the same league as Singapore airport and my expectations were sky high.  In my extreme panic pre-flying, I had booked a meet and greet service. Best decision ever.  They managed to take us through the first class customs area, which even so was exceptionally slow and tedious but we avoided the long queues that essentially did not move.  At the baggage claim area, we were accosted by a very irate middle eastern man who accused us of taking his trolley (we hadn't). The poor meet and greet woman with us was shouted at and the guy just would not leave it alone. Fortunately, there was no escalation in aggression but it gave an insight how women are treated sometimes.  Very uncomfortable situation all round.  It was 4am australian time for us but as we had all had a few hours sleep, it was a bit more bearable than it would have been with exhausted kids.

This is probably enough words now for a start.  Will finish our trip details tomorrow.

A demain :)!