International Drivers License

So I have a license to drive around Germany, no big deal. But Matt wanted me to go get my international license so I could start sharing the driving experience with him when we take road trips.

How to get an Internationaler Führerschien in ten easy steps!

Step one: Get the right form. (Germans like their forms). This required me to go on base where the initial driving test and license were issued. Fairly straightforward.

Step two: Collect items needed: filled out form, German license, Texas license, govt. ID card, and passport photo. Check.

Step three: Decide when I'll have time to do this. I opted for yesterday morning, so I could drive with Matt to work, get it done, and drop the car back off.

Step four: Enter address into phone and hit navigate. I almost never drive around by myself, let alone somewhere I've never been before. Hope I don't get lost. 

Step five: Get lost. Only slightly. I almost made it with no wrong turns but the navigation just got a little ahead of itself. Sigh. When I get there it's obvious from the outside it's the DMV, it just has that "look."

Step six: Walk in and realize it's a lot nicer than an American version. I press a button on the orange kiosk and out pops my number: 18. They are on 12, which I don't think is all that bad.

Step seven: Optimism and nerve waivers as the ding from number 12 to 13 takes half an hour. Wait for over an HOUR before someone sees me. Reflect on my life decisions thus far as my stomach growls. Why didn't I bring a snack or delicious coffee beverage?

Step eight: Finally hear the ding of 18. Walk-run upstairs to room 106. Become alerted that my lovely passport photo, the one I actually like, cannot be used. I'm smiling, with my mouth open. Apparently this won't fly.

Step nine: Go back downstairs to pay for the license (15 Euro) and then stop at an automatic photo booth thing where I have to watch/read through six do's and don'ts for taking a correct photo, and pay 6 Euro. 

Step ten: Hate my picture. Regret my decision to only put on a little mascara and nothing else. Return upstairs with a scowl. Issued adorable tiny book:

Blargh. Finally.

*Bonus step eleven: Phone navigates totally different way for the drive back. I would have preferred the autobahn. Argh.

*Bonus step twelve: Reward self with a half liter of German Coca Cola because it has real sugar in it. Walk home slightly dejected, yet victorious.