The Girls from Ipanema

Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork

Or, details, details, details.

I fly to Rio in six weeks. A friend and I will spend three days sightseeing in Rio, then board the Azamara Quest cruise ship which stops in other Brazilian ports, in Uruguay and winds up in Buenos Aires. We'll spend another three days in BA, then return.

But I needed a Visa. I read the information on the website provided by the Consul in Miami. A friend graciously drove me down to Miami, a 45-minute ride from my home. I had everything (I thought) I needed.

No, I was told, I needed either three months of bank statements or a credit card bill with my credit line. I packed up three months bill, and four days later my friend and I trekked south to the Consul's office. Yes, I had all the paperwork I needed, but I had to return a week later to pick up my Visa.

It's all done now, but the interesting thing is the friend with whom I'm traveling also obtained a Visa. She got her's in New York City. And, she never had to provide banking or credit information.

It seems guidelines vary from city to city. Annoying? Worth three trips to Miami, and the better part of three days?

I don't know.

I am looking forward to the trip and three South American countries I have never visited. Am I turned off by the paperwork, arrogance and random requests? You bet, but looking at television coverage of Hurricane Sandy and thousands of stranded travelers throughout the country, I realize my annoyance is small by those standards.

But I will try to find out why I had to provide information my friend did not.