The Path of Least Resistance is For Amateurs

Now that the decision had been made to head off to a new province, we had a lot to do, never ones to make it easy on ourselves we had just thrown a whole bag of spanners, wrenches, and any other tool you we could get our hands on into the works.

Priority number one was to open a bank account, this was always at the top of our to do list anyway I mean who does not need money right and we would need more money than our meagre pocket money for this move, so we set to work researching Canadian banks.

In the end we opted to go with HSBC, they had many benefits including the ability to bank anywhere in the world but most importantly we opted for them because there were no branches nearby so we would have to walk two hours in the snow with a wind chill of -13 degrees just to open our accounts, yep clueless! Why do things the straightforward way when you can do them the ‘Carroll’ way.

With our accounts set up we got in touch with Halo Financial who we had engaged to transfer some of our savings from NZ to Canada, thankfully we did this just in time because the exchange rate had been steadily dropping due to Russia invading the Ukraine so we needed to move fast and whilst we did not get as much bang for our buck as we had hoped we were grateful we moved our savings when we did because after that the exchange rate dropped considerably.

Priority number two was to buy a vehicle, the trip from Ottawa to Nova Scotia was approximately 15 hours by road and as much as we enjoyed our winter walks in the snow, we did want to reach NS before we hit retirement age. We could have flown to NS and got a long-term rental vehicle, but we were going to have to invest in a vehicle soon anyway so now seemed like the ideal time to bite the bullet rather than throw away even more money.

The vehicle we chose would need to be robust enough to cope with the weather conditions throughout the seasons and have enough space in the back for the dog, three cats, tools, equipment, wood, and a partridge in a pear tree (although not all in one go).

To us it made sense to buy the truck here in Ontario, there were newer models available with less mileage and at a better price. We could then use the road trip to NS to adapt to driving on Canadian roads, on the wrong side of the road I might add (I can hear all the Canadians sighing with annoyance). We longed to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, see some of Canada, and have an adventure.

You will never know until you go.

After hours of excitedly perusing trucks, we set our sights on a beautiful sleek, black, Dodge RAM Warlock for sale at a dealership close to where we were staying so booked an appointment and made the short walk (an hour) to meet the Sales Rep. The truck was an absolute beauty and after giving it a good check over and finding it to be in mint condition we declared our intention to buy.

The Sales Rep informed us that to buy the truck we would need to get our NZ drivers licenses converted to Canadian and secure vehicle insurance at which point he sniggered and said under his breath “good luck with that”. Wiser people may have asked him what he meant by his comment but no, not us! We wanted to find out the hard way, we preferred unpleasant surprises, knowing what you are getting into takes all the fun out of it.

So having consulted Google to establish which Canadian government agency provided driver’s license services we headed off into the snow to Services Ontario. We decided to kill two birds with one stone with this journey because Services Ontario was also where we could apply for our SIN (Social Insurance Number) which would enable us to work in Canada.

There were separate counters and queues for the two different services, so we went for the shortest queue first which was the SIN services (which sounds wrong, like obtaining services for wickedness). Getting our SIN was an absolute doddle, with a brief application form completed, our ID provided and within 5 minutes of walking up to the counter we were walking away with our SIN in our hands.

Converting our drivers’ licences however was to be a bit trickier and by tricky, I mean downright complicated, ridiculous, and frustrating. Having patiently queued up again we got to the counter and explained that we needed to convert our drivers’ licenses from NZ to Canada and they informed us that they do not provide that service at Services Ontario and that we would need to go to Drive Test…. what the actual fluff! A minor hiccup in the grand scheme of things.

I may not be there yet, but I am closer than I was yesterday.

We set off to Drive Test early the following morning having discovered that the nearest Drive test was at least a two-hour walk (one way), with a bitter wind chill of -16 degrees our faces were completely frozen, and bodies numb by the time we got there. We were so numb from cold in fact that we had zero arm or hand coordination to even wipe away the snotsicles that were hanging out of our noses dumb and dumber style.

It was only as we approached the Drive Test building that we began to question why there were no lights on and the door was locked, we peered through the windows to find the building empty save for a random office chair and desk. It dawned on us that not only was Drive Test closed but it was ‘closed’ closed as in no longer open for business! FFS!

If our tear ducts weren’t frozen, we would have cried. Not to be defeated and determined that the journey was not going to be for nought we Googled the next nearest Drive Test location another hour on from here.

So, we set off again into the biting wind with ominous dark grey clouds above, at least it was not snowing we consoled ourselves, that’s what you think said the universe no doubt laughing maniacally when a few moments later large flakes began to fall from the sky, Fluffing hell.

Like Scott and Shackleton, we walked single file, heads bowed into the wind and utterly silent, we had no words of comfort to offer one another we were so cold, tired, and frustrated. Instead, we trudged along like angry toddlers preferring the safety of silence lest one of us (probably Martin to be fair) says the wrong thing and all hell breaks loose.

We finally arrived at Drive Test late in the afternoon only to find a queue a mile long waiting outside, we donned every item of spare clothing we had in our backpacks and zipped ourselves up like Kenny from Southpark before spending 30 minutes jogging on the spot, or waving our arms around like a demented penguin to stop the frostbite creeping in.

We entered the Drive Test building and were greeted with no less than thirty people waiting inside either stood at counters, waiting in queues, or sat in the seating area.

Patience is a virtue because the alternative involves jail time.

We approached the reception desk to get a ticket and wait our turn only to be told that the ticket machines were now closed. We were told that there were so many people already waiting that we might not get seen today the service assistant said we could either wait and see if we were lucky or come back tomorrow.

That was the final straw for me, I saw red, I felt like I was snorting flames through my nose and steam was escaping out of my ears I was channelling my inner dragon. One glance at the murderous look on my face had Martin telling the service assistant we would wait before quickly dragging me over to the nearest seats.

We removed all the extra clothing we had donned and sat down, the warmth, well-earned rest, and hour and thirty-minute wait went a long way to extinguishing my anger, but sadly it was not to last.

The waiting room gradually cleared, and we finally got called up to the counter, our patience had paid off. We produced our NZ licenses, filled in the application forms, passed our eyesight test and were on the home stretch when the woman at the counter asked us if we had our Certificate of Particulars …. Our what now???

Prepare to launch ballistic missiles in Three, Two, One…

We needed to provide a ‘Certificate of Particulars’ which is a one-page document costing $11 from New Zealand Transport confirming that the information recorded on our government issued drivers licenses was correct. You must be fluffing kidding me!

This was the first we had heard about being required to provide proof that our drivers licenses were genuine, it made no mention of it on any of the websites, our licenses could not be converted without this proof. If this were a disaster movie it would be at this point where the ground begins to shake, steam erupts from the sidewalk, and everybody runs for their lives. How I did not completely lose it is beyond me, it gave me a whole new appreciation of Martin’s calming and patient superpowers.

To say that this was one of our lowest points since arriving to Canada would be the understatement of the century! We walked for over 3 hours, almost giving ourselves frostbite, and waited for 2 hours just to walk away from Drive Test sans our temporary Ontario drivers’ licenses.

A setting sun whispers a promise for tomorrow

Neither of us had the energy to walk back to the apartment, thank the sweet baby jeebus for Uber! But after a scolding hot shower, a bowl of soup and a generous measure of Honey whiskey we were ready to dust ourselves off and give it another go.