Visa vibes

I went to the company that arranges UK visas today. Despite the fact that I can trace my ancestors directly back to the 11th Century in Cornwall, a graveyard near London is full of their remains and a drinking fountain in South London commemorates an ancestor who championed the cause of temperance way back in the old days, the authorities require me to apply to enter the UK, at great cost. The forms were difficult to fill in online and I had to use my travel agent to complete that - a good decision to let someone else take care of all the details for a change - and I was given an appointment at the visa agents within a few days.
I set off armed to the teeth with paperwork - passport, old passport, letter of invitation, marriage certificate (that caused a stir as I couldn't imagine where to find it - Home Affairs of course, but I still have my old ID book and there it was neatly printed), wedding photo just for a laugh, utility bill, husband's ID, copy of bank account to prove I had funds, ID book, travel insurance and plane ticket. I arrived half an hour early and there were only two other people, although five counters were available to assist. Instant service, friendly and efficient. Their software had just been updated and they no longer need to take all the paperwork, just scan it in and hand it back.
The young lady told me all they really need is a passport, plane ticket, letter of invitation (in my case) and evidence that you will return home after the holiday. I asked what that was and she said the marriage certificate, utility bill and bank statement which somehow proves that you intend to return to your husband (I'm travelling alone). Well, that caused a laugh and I said it was certainly no guarantee. Of course, at that very moment my phone rings and He Who Can Fix Anything asks the usual question, Where are you? I hiss into the phone: At the desk for the visa. He says: At the vet? I hiss again: The visa. Him: What? Me: The UK visa!
I could just imagine the clerk thinking, he doesn't even know she's going! Turns out he just wanted me to buy light bulbs. The curse of the cellphone.
I told the young lady that that was the very reason why there could be no guarantee of a marriage certificate indicating that you are coming back! At least we all had a good laugh.
Now I just have to wait to hear whether I am allowed to visit my favourite and only aunt and uncle as they celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. There was only one other couple after me so perhaps it won't be three weeks. I still have to apply for the Schengen visa to allow me (half German ancestry) to set foot on European soil.