How Australia killed our dream honeymoon to Vanuatu

Elena and I got married on the second last day of 2015, just a few days before she began her MBA in January. We had met four years earlier, in London, at an expats meeting, and were now living in Paris where I worked and where she would be studying. Her imminent studies meant that we would have to hold off our honeymoon until she had finished a year later, for want of time as well as finances. The MBA wasn’t going to pay for itself, after all.

We had dreamed of going to Vanuatu — a paradise land of turquoise waters, sunny beaches and fiery volcanoes. It always seemed so far-fetched, though; almost half a world away, it was just about the most remote place on earth from where we lived.

Late last year, as she was going to graduate in December, I had decided to make the dream a reality, and surprise her with the tickets that would be my Christmas, New Year’s, Graduation, 1-year Wedding Anniversary, and 5-year anniversary present, all rolled into one, to her.
For days I researched flight options, looking for the cheapest and also the least tiring flights. I had wanted to minimize the time spent in transit for each leg and also give us time to recover, which meant staying a night at a waypoint. In the end, I had settled on Paris to Singapore, via Abu Dhabi; Singapore to Brisbane; and finally, Brisbane to Port Vila, capital of Vanuatu. I checked visa requirements for every location and there were no issues for either myself, a dual Canadian and Polish passport holder or her, a Romanian passport holder.

For the next month until the travel day, we lived in gleeful anticipation, planning our itinerary and making a checklist of everything we wanted to see and do. We would start in Efate, checking out Vila, the Mele Cascades, exploring the north; then off to Tanna to see the formidable Mount Yasur, the hot springs and the blue holes; then Espiritu Santo for some great beaches and snorkeling; Ambrym, with its two volcanoes and lava lake; and if time permitted it, maybe a stop in Epi for a swim with a dugong before getting back to Port Vila and flying back.
But at Changi Airport in Singapore on the evening of January 31, those hopes were dashed. Unable to check in to our Qantas flight, we ask the staff for help. Do you have the relevant visas, the lady at the counter asks.

Schengen-zone nationals are eligible for a free eVisitor visa which they can apply for online. In fact, I didn’t even bring my Canadian passport as this process seemed easier (and cheaper). I had applied for mine a week earlier and had received the visa automatically. Elena had applied before me and still didn’t get hers. Border Australia’s website helpfully claimed that 90% of all applications were processed within 3 days. Something was up. We tried to explain that our flight would arrive at 7am the next day and our next flight would leave at 10, just three hours later, so we wouldn’t even leave the airport. This did not matter: not the same airline. They told us they would change our flights while instructing us to go to the Australian consulate to work the visa issue out. As the next flight from BNE to PVI wasn’t until four days later, this gave us a whole week. So I call the other airline and, for an extra fee of A$280 plus huge roaming, long distance costs (calling an AUS number from a French phone in SIN) I manage to change the last leg flight to keep the same transit times. We would lose four days in Vanuatu, but at least our honeymoon wasn’t dead — yet.

The next day, we arrive at the consulate where we’re promptly told to bugger off, as there is nothing they can do for us there. They give us a phone number to call and an email address to write to.

Still hurting from the long distance charges for changing the flights, we ask strangers on the street if we can borrow their phones to make a local call. Singaporeans are helpful, the opposite of the Australian bureaucracy. We manage to get through to an official and, after explaining our situation, she basically told us that she should have worn a longer dress (ok, she said we should have applied for the visa earlier — thanks!).
She tells us to go to APAC, a private company dealing with visa applications to Australia, to resolve our issues. APAC, unsurprisingly, can’t help us. They could — for a hefty charge — help us apply for another visa, but you can’t have more than one visa application active at a time and cancelling an existing visa application takes several days.

We also, during this time, send off several pleading emails to the address we were given, never receiving a response, despite being informed that they reply to all requests within 48 hours. We also make numerous trips back to the airport. The stress of the experience has caused my immune system to collapse: a cold I caught on my first day developed into bronchitis for which I now needed antibiotics. To add insult to injury, my health insurance policy covers Vanuatu, not Singapore.
The situation we’re in is straight out of a Kafka novel: stuck in Singapore where we were only planning to transit through with nobody from the Australian Border Force we can even talk to much less get help from.

By the time of our scheduled flight, we still can’t check in. The visa hasn’t arrived. Despondent, we ask for a refund for our flights as trying to change the tickets again no longer makes sense, neither financially, nor would we have enough time to properly enjoy Vanuatu. We’re told to email our request for which we can only hope getting a partial refund, at best. At this point, we just want to cut our losses and go back home, forgetting we ever wished to go on this honeymoon. We can’t even do that without paying additional thousands. Ultimately, we decide to spend our remaining weeks in Malaysia, the country that salvaged our disastrous trip, but not before losing thousands of euros, a week of vacation, and incurring incalculable stress.

After this ordeal, we no longer have any wish to step foot on Australian soil now or in the future. It’s a shame, however, that a big bully like Australia can act as a gatekeeper keeping visitors away from places such as Vanuatu to which there is often no other direct access: Australia has not only deprived us of our dream honeymoon, but also Vanuatu of valuable tourism dollars.