I just had to pop down to London to pick up my passport because some embassy only went and stuck a piece of paper in it.

It’s amazing the power of that piece of paper, the amount of work that many people have poured in so that this piece of paper could be glued in by an anonymous bureaucrat on a completely random page that’s hard to find (near the back).

The resources expended, the boxes ticked. The heads scratched, frankly. I’ve never been that good with administration and I’m a disaster at filling out forms. I’ve had to scan things, ask for documents, I’ve had to make up find out important information. It’s been a mission.

Despite all that, I think what swung it for me was the fact that a hidden but powerfully influential figure in the concealing shadows of a far flung foreign ministry was persuaded by another powerful friend of mine (I’ve not met them yet mind) to put a little pressure on the right place. I don’t think I mean literally, but you never really know. It pays to have friends in high places, I find. Mostly from my experience of not having friends in high places.

I shan’t tell you where I’m going, because it’s more interesting and mysterious that way. Unless you have access to my work calendar, which is neither interesting nor mysterious.