enter the uk

I can have a visa approved, pay for the application and get through the biometrics appointment, then still become terrified in the queue for UK border control. In my November 2021 video, I described that as the final hurdle. I had been on three separate UK visas, plus a renewal, and had made that first entry on a new visa more than once. Familiarity had not made me calm.

This is the experience I described then, rather than a checklist for entering the UK today. The paperwork has changed: GOV.UK explains that physical biometric residence permits have expired and been replaced by eVisas. For a journey now, the official UK entry guide is the place to check the documents and rules that apply.

The queue was where my imagination took over

My brain had an extremely unhelpful routine while I waited. I would become convinced that the border officer might find drugs on me. I did not use drugs. I knew I did not have any with me. Somehow that did not stop the conversation in my head: what if I had them without knowing, and they refused to let me in?

From there I could invent a whole disastrous future. Maybe I would have to go back to Canada. Maybe I would lose my visa or end up in jail. Then I would wonder about residue on my passport. It had been through lots of travel and I had never cleaned it, which was enough for my anxious brain to run with. These were my panicked thoughts, not things that had happened to me at the border.

I thought I had probably watched too many border-security television programmes. Whatever the reason, border officers scared me. After all the stressful application work, this was the last point between me and getting into the country. I wanted to be on the other side of it so I could finally take a breath.

What the conversations were actually like

When I reached an officer, I explained that I was entering for the first time on that visa. In my experience, they usually asked very little. One woman asked whether I had a job lined up. I said no, and explained in the video that the particular visa I held was not dependent on having a job. That was one encounter on my visa, not a rule about what every traveller will be asked.

I did not know what the officers were doing on their computers. In the video I called it their mystery stuff, and admitted that I was too afraid to ask. I could describe standing there while they checked things, but I could not explain the system behind the desk.

My account also included the physical biometric residence permit, or BRP, that I used at the time. It was a card I had to keep track of and show for serious applications such as a job or a flat. While telling everyone how important it was, I realised I was not entirely sure where mine was. I left myself an editing reminder to check.

A conversation beside me made me more nervous

On one occasion, I could hear a young Australian at the neighbouring desk. From what I overheard, it sounded as though he had previously lived in the UK on a visa, left when it ended, and was returning as a tourist to finish sorting out some belongings or unfinished matters. I did not know his whole situation.

The officer was not persuaded by the explanation and seemed concerned that he intended to resume the life he had before. Hearing it made me anxious for him. It sounded to me as though they might send him back to Australia, but I did not describe what ultimately happened. His circumstances were also different from my own first entry on a new visa.

My own approach was much less dramatic than the running commentary in my head. I tried to be extremely polite, answer the questions I was asked, follow instructions and say please and thank you. I knew I could make the situation feel much more stressful than it needed to be. Getting through that last conversation was the point I kept looking forward to.

Watch my November 2021 border-control account.