A Crisis of Identity

Many years ago, during a coaching course, I was asked what three things I would save from a house fire, excluding people and pets. My answer: my passport, my Amex card and my iPad. Nothing of any sentimental value at all, unlike the majority of the other delegates who were busy saving wedding albums, granny’s gold ring and other family heirlooms. 

I couldn’t help myself: I moved overseas, dragging half a container of possessions with me, but the things I shipped were all practical, costly items I knew I would otherwise have to repurchase. Examples being a Sonos sound system and my Nespresso machine. 

Losing my passport, however, would put me in a tailspin. I have an almost primaeval need to be able to get up and go, experience new things, meet new people. Whether I actually go or not is irrelevant. 

I have held my own passport since I was 10 years old. My first overseas holiday was to Majorca for my 10^th birthday. Majorca was exceedingly exotic to a child from the Midlands; the beach was nothing like the beaches in Cornwall, the hotel nothing like a B&B, and even the tomatoes tasted different. It was blindingly bright and sunny, despite it being January, nothing like the grey gloom of the UK winter. I remember feeling very grown up when given a sip of Cava and lying that I liked the taste! That trip has a lot to answer for in terms of how I have lived my adult life!

It had been playing on my mind for some time that my passport needed to be renewed. The last renewal was done early because I had run out of pages, resulting in a passport with validity of 10 years and 8 months. It is no secret that I am not a supporter of Brexit, one more thing to thank Brexit for: no freedom of movement in the EU. By the end of August my valid passport was not acceptable for entry into any country in the Schengen area because of the strict 10-year validity rule. South Africa was fine, the UAE was fine, and obviously, I could come back to the UK. Whilst I have no immediate plans to enter the EU, it goes back to the fundamental need of being able to go if I chose. 

The dilemma? Come back to the UK for renewal, or trust the online service for citizens living overseas? I was all set to travel, but issues in the Gulf had made flights very expensive and more importantly, I could not find a couple of weeks when everyone I miss in the UK was going to be available to reconnect with. 

After speaking to several ex-pats who had successfully renewed online, I took the plunge. Handing over my most valuable personal possession – my passport – to DHL caused me untold stress, but once the application was submitted, there was no turning back. Coincidentally, one of my good friends also sent his for renewal on the same day. 

My apprehension was not helped by the list of documents accepted as proof of address. You do not get to see this list until you have made the application and paid the fee. All documents had to have been issued within the last 12 months, and I did not have any of them. My resident permit was issued in 2021; being retired, I have no letter from my employer; I am not eligible to vote therefore, I do not have a voting card; similarly, not being eligible for state healthcare, I do not have a medical card. At my age, I most definitely do not have an educational certificate issued by a school in the last year. 

My neighbour and I conferred, as we faced the same issue, and we decided to send in our resident permits. 

I was pleasantly surprised by the efficiency. DHL delivered early, and the passport office sent an email saying the renewal was in progress. A few days later, the address issue came up. I received the email I was dreading, redirecting me to the list of documents I did not have. On the same day, my friend received an email saying that his renewal was completed and his passport was being dispatched. 

My anxiety reached new heights. Why had my renewal not been processed? Would I be in Mauritius, unable to leave forever? What about all the other official links to my passport number, such as my resident permit and local bank accounts? Who was I, with nothing to prove my identity? I regretted not buying an overpriced flight and travelling to the UK to renew it in person. 

A nice man (or robot?) on the HMPO online chat tried to allay my fears. Could I send a utility bill? No, it was in my landlord’s name. Bank statement? No, the change of address process is so much hassle I lost the will to live and gave up. Mobile phone bill? Yes hooray. Lease agreement? Yes, although it had not been issued within the last 12 months. 

Additional documents were duly sent off, and a week later that thing I would save first in a house fire is back with me: fully renewed and valid for 10 years to the day. Although the process was simple, if alternative documents are accepted, could they not be included earlier in the online process? That would have saved a great deal of stress – although I would have bought a flight, so the extra DHL costs are a moot point.

I have now braved the bureaucracy of the passport and immigration office in Port Louis. Giving them my new passport information was easier and quicker than expected; I even had time to go shopping before my two-hour parking ticket expired. The next step is to brace myself for several visits and endless queuing at the bank, as I suppose the address change just has to be done. 

One of the joys of living in Mauritius is accepting that something that could be done online in the UK, taking just a few minutes, is a day out of your life here. 

The sun isn’t even shining; second consecutive week of anti-cyclones bringing cool temperatures, wind and rain. I have sympathy for the tourists who did buy expensive flights. 

PS: If you are wondering why my friend didn’t have the same issue, it was because my resident permit does not show my current address. Once you are granted a resident permit, the original document is never re-issued.