Yup, I was back there again yesterday. That place where they issue official documents such as driving licences and car registration papers. This time it was the Sous-Prefecture (sub office) in Grasse.
I’d gone to the Prefecture in Nice a couple of weeks ago and after waiting the usual couple of hours I found that, (a) I was in the wrong office in the wrong town for my driving licence and (b) the car registration place shut early because it was having computer problems!
I was dreading Grasse. The Nice Prefecture has already featured in the news because of near riots as people queue for hours and I was hoping Grasse would be a bit more civilized. Thankfully it was.
A smiling guy on reception gave me my two queue tickets (one for licence – one for vehicle registration) and helpfully suggested that I get down to the licence queue quick as there weren’t too many people downstairs. True – it only took an hour to be called and then the paper-trail inquisition started. I handed my wad of papers over and then the red pen came out, but only to mark official notes on my documents. It looked promising and then her face fell. In a mixture of French and English she said that she couldn’t process my new licence because I’d forgotten to put a stamp on my stamped-addressed envelope. What a wally!
I put on my saddest face (not hard – I mean it’s not hard to put on my saddest face) and asked if there was any way she could hold the papers until I got a stamp. She agreed and I disappeared off down the high street to find a post office. No luck but there was a bar and against all expectations they said they could sell me stamps but only a book of 12. No problem said I and handed over my €20 to pay for the €6.60 of stamps. ‘Sorry – no change’, said the hard-looking woman behind the counter. I felt like asking if business was that bad that a bar doesn’t have change but decided against it. I gave her another €1.70 and said to just give me €15 change – forget the pennies. Well, It took her about 5 minutes to work out what was going on but eventually she worked it out, gave me my stamps and off I went back to the Prefecture.
I was handed a bit of paper and informed that my new French driving licence would come through in the post, and all the while I was thinking, ‘if it does it’ll be a miracle’. The licence I’d handed in to exchange for a French one was ‘lost’ 20 years ago so it’ll be interesting to see what happens when they send it back to the DVLC!
Right - upstairs to see that the queue for registering the scooter would take another hour+ so I decided to run down to the DIY store to get a few bits for the house. Closed for Inventory Taking the notice said. I stood there and looked at it. Then I looked at the security guard who pointed to the sign. Then I looked at the sign again. I mean this was Tuesday – a trading day. The store is closed on Sundays – why don’t they do Inventory Taking then? But this is France I reasoned – there’s no logic to what happens in this country on a daily basis.
Back to the Prefecture – another hour waiting in line and finally all the paperwork was processed. I handed over my €30 and was about to query why it had cost precisely zero to re-register Guy’s scooter 3 months ago, when I thought better of it, smiled and left.
A triumph I thought as I left the building, two big admin jobs completed in one day. I was so chuffed I went to my favourite square in Grasse (pictured), sat at an outside table in the sun and had the most delicious burger which I reckon I was due after Sunday’s disappointment.
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