An Garda Síochána
I’m a bit late getting around to posting today as I’ve been busy all day sending off for documents and filling in forms connected with my forthcoming sabbatical. My relocation is a little more complicated than I initially thought as although Ireland is in the European Union, it is not in the Schengen area, so a visit for longer than 90 days requires a bit of paperwork. In fact I am applying for what is called a “non-lucrative residence permit”. It seems to be strange to be applying for non-lucrative status, as that’s what I seem to have had all my life, but there you go.
Anyway, as part of the bureaucratic process I have to acquire a Police Certificate, a document that states that I have no criminal record over the last five years. To get this in Ireland one has to visit a Garda station. There is one in Maynooth, but unfortunately there is rarely anyone staffing it, so I decided to go instead to Leixlip, where the station is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It’s also just a short bus trip from Maynooth.
So this morning I downloaded the requisite form from the Garda website, collected the documents listed there, and off I went to Leixlip. I had to wait a little bit of time because there were a couple of people needing things. One was inquiring about a court summons for something he claimed he had paid already but didn’t have a receipt. Eventually he left, though he wasn’t happy about having to attend court. The next chap just had to sign some sort of register. He might have been on probation or had to check in with the Gardaí to fulfil some other conditions.
I always feel a bit sorry for people working at the front desk in a place like a Garda station. They must often be confronted by people who are not having a very good day, and probably have to deal with a bit of aggravation from time to time.
Then it was my turn. The officer at the desk was very friendly but when I explained what I needed he produced a form that stated I needed additional documents not listed on the website, including a copy of my birth certificate, a document explaining what I needed the certificate for, and a stamped addressed envelope to receive the certificate. I was a bit annoyed, but had no alternative but to go back to Maynooth and collect the missing papers. Bureaucracy is bureaucracy and there’s no point letting it get to you.
After returning in due course with the gaps in my documents filled, I found the waiting area at Garda station empty and I was able to hand over my documents which I was assured were now sufficient. I just have to wait a bit to get the certificate in the post.
On the bus home after the second trip to Leixlip it struck me that today was the first time I’ve been in a Garda station, and the second time…
Now that’s out of the way, it’s wine o’clock and the bank holiday weekend beckons.
In the Dark 
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