Monday, August 29, 2016

Part 1 Ex/importing my personal transport


You know that moment when you just ‘know’ it’s going to be a great day and then your dog lets loose a silent, killer gassy fart; while in your truck, buzzing down the interstate? Yeah, that’s my day, the day I finally export my truck. A total, non-plus moment right there. 

To export your truck aka vehicle aka personal transport:
1)      Check the almighty government website
a.       On border A side
b.      And on border B side
c.       To make sure proper protocol  is followed, reference the above, ha
2)      Concur  that they both say diddly squat (carefully covered in straightforward words of nothing)
3)      Ten web pages later FINALLY find the page you actually needed
4)      Hmm, they’ve updated their ‘site’ or ‘program’ for the worldwide market of export/import goods. For ‘tracking purposes’ of course.
5)      Found paperwork
a.       I can apply and do it myself
b.      Yay!
c.       Well, crap. Normal process allow x number of days for processing but due to high volume yada yada yada please allow for double the x number of days.
                                                               i.      Wait uber long to get my login code?
                                                             ii.      Then navigate uncharted webwaters for this process?
                                                            iii.      Or… google a company that specializes in this.
6)      Hmmmmmmm…
7)      Yup, google!
8)      Googled company + pure definition of efficiency = I’m exporting within a week
9)      Please note… the three day rule (advance notice of such activities IS required) is business days.
a.       This rule is noted only in days
b.      A real, live person at the appropriate office of ‘in the know’ tells me its business.
10)   Business. Days.
a.       Weekend days don’t count.
b.      That includes holidays in the ‘no count zone.’
11)   Hi Mom and Dad! I miss y’all so much when I’m gone that I’m going to stay for a few more days
12)   Parents = The Look

Me being carefully and overly prepared in such matters, I print all my export documents, triple check that important documents (vehicle title, passport, etc.) are accounted for and in the purse.

I’m driving down the interstate in my Chevy and then… the non-plus moment happens. My pup is a kill joy at times; that or I was interrupting his beauty sleep. Judging by his squinty glare, it was the nap disturbance. 

Ahh, the border. How I’ve missed you. Not.

Long line of cars, the slow inching forward and complete lack of scenery.

I do the whole stop on border A side, show my export docs and title. They say please sit and wait. The ‘hurry up and wait’ skill really does come in handy lately. Who knows what they do with it but they come back and then stamp it. I’m out the door and back in the truck. Then it’s… you guessed it, hurry up and wait.

Upon reaching the border officer’s window we go through the usual song and dance. Where are you from? Where are you going? Any yada yada yada items? Oh, here’s a yellow ticket aka magic pass, take this inside and they’ll assist you in the import process.

Cool beans!

When I finally receive the ‘come hither’ royal summons aka a brief wave, I walk up and explain to the officer that I’d like to export my truck.

Blank. Look.

I try again.

Nothing.

Finally he says, 'we don’t do exports here.'

Oh. Duh. I’m going IN to Canada and not the other way around.

My words WOULD confuse themselves and come out backwards. Yikes.

So I try yet again, that I would like to ‘import’ my truck into Canada as I’ve already exported it from the US.

Magic word structure.

'Ok,' he says, 'let’s do this.'

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