It was in April 1997. I was returning after a ten-day orientation course in London. I headed for Heathrow to return to India via Frankfurt, my colleague was to stay for another couple of days. Imagine my consternation when, at the check-in counter, I was told I could not travel because I did not have a transit visa for Germany!

“But I came via Frankfurt and nobody asked me a for a visa then,” I exclaimed. “Oh, but then you were UK-bound and you had a visa for this country,” came the incredible retort. “But now I am home-ward bound and I cannot have a visa for my own country,” I countered. “Get a visa from the German embassy and you can travel on Tuesday,” she said.

That was a Saturday. On Monday I rushed to the German embassy in the early hours. “When do you wish to travel?” asked the counsellor in characteristic monotone. “Tomorrow,” I mumbled. “Not possible, it will take four working days to process this visa. You can travel Friday”.

I quickly withdrew my application form, returned to the hotel, and called up my colleague who would face the same problem. She is turn called up her friends in the Gujarati community, with considerable influence in the UK. Several calls were made to the airline office and finally we were seen off at the airport by a posse of high-flying NRIs. We returned without a transit visa.

Back home, I decided to take on the travel agent for his grievous lapse in not informing us about the transit visa. The rep swore there was no such requirement. To placate me — and more importantly keep the connection with my company going — he wrote a letter of apology and promised me one free return ticket to any destination in Europe. I still have his offer with me, unutilised.

... contd.