The ferry from Deer Island stops running this weekend which means a very small window in time was left to get some outstanding paperwork done. Oh I can still reach the mainland (or as the locals say, go up-river) if I go through Maine, but that means leaving Jamie at home and the angst level on her part is way too high for that.
Deb and I went to St. Stephen on Thursday. My goal was to get everything done. However, nothing is simple – I accept that, but it’s like living in a Bunuel movie.
It was a 9 hour day (including the 4 ferries) but I got parts for the wood stove, bits for my “convert this desk to a kitchen island project”, paint and primer and rollers, plus a healthy haul from Dollarama.
I also finally made it to Service New Brunswick and applied for the Provincial Medicare. BC will hand off to them in November.
I transferred my Drivers License and attempted to register my car. (I cannot tell you how much I miss ICBC and not just because insurance is twice as much here.) I had all the paperwork necessary, including the Proof of Insurance card from my local Insurer.
That might seem unnecessary to say, but as you’ll see this is an issue.
When the woman helping me got to the car registry part of my agenda she apologized. It seems they’d run out of stickers for the plates. No stickers meant no plates for me and no transferring the car to New Brunswick.
This is the last of the tasks the Province insists you’re supposed to take care of as soon as you arrive. I’m already pushing the limit of “as soon as”.
It took the entire return journey for me to accept, and commit to, the idea of going back to the mainland on Friday. The good news is that I could do the shorter trip to St. George which also has a Service New Brunswick office.
I arrived just before 11 am and found myself 7th in line. One woman was taking care of everybody by herself (and she was remarkably patient). In spite of signs everywhere, and one presumes previous experience, 4 people tried to do their car registry without Proof of Insurance (You can do it monthly but you have to do it at least annually. The sticker indicates registry expiration, the insurance is implied.).
After they’d all had their insurance agents fax over their data (small town) it was my turn. There were now 5 people behind me. You can imagine how excited they were when the clerk first looked concerned and then said she’d have to make some phone calls.
The issue it seems was whether or not I’d have to pay HST on a car I bought before I left when I was a Resident of another Province. A Province which had already taken a healthy amount of sales tax.
It took a long time to sort out (in my favour) and that only left a large pile of forms to be completed and signed and witnessed. When it was all done I raised my arms in triumph and declared myself a Resident of New Brunswick. (No kidding. I really did!)
The (now full) waiting room applauded. They had, after all, been a part of the journey as well.
It’s done now. I’m officially here. Now we’ll see how long it takes me to get tired of these sunsets. *grin*