In an ideal world, there'd be no need for travelers to waste their time and money obtaining visas: buying a plane ticket and booking a hotel room would suffice. Thanks to various international treaties and conventions, there's a fair number of visa-free oases – though, unfortunately, many people all around the world are still doomed to wait in embassy lines and have their passports stamped with visa denials. Among the unlucky ones are those citizens of Ukraine who wish to travel to what's widely considered “the West.” Tanya Kremen, a Ukrainian journalist, studies Spanish but feels that a plane ticket to Latin America costs too much. So she decided to go to Spain. She had a valid Schengen visa – unlike the two of her friends who wanted to go along. What follows is a translation of the story of their frustrating visit to the Spanish Embassy in Kyiv (RUS), posted by Tanya on her blog at Korrespondent.net on June 25: Have you ever tried to go to Spain? This wonderful, sunny country with friendly people, sandy beaches and delicious food? No, I don't mean going through a travel agency, but on your own, developing a route, booking hotel via internet, buying tickets – and, a trifle, obtaining visas. Give it a try. […] I happen to have a valid Schengen visa, but two of my friends (let's call them Vova and Dima, because these are their names) don't. So what's the problem, you'd think – don't we live in Ukraine, a country bordering the European Union, a country aspiring to European integration. Vova and Dima, who've been to various European countries more than once, gather all the required paperwork and at 10 A.M. arrive at the Embassy of Spain to apply for their visas. One of them is a commercial director of a large trading company, the other is the external relations director at an equally large company. They've downloaded their applications form from the embassy's internet site and filled them out, they have all the documents that are listed on the embassy's site. Earlier, they paid 35 hryvnias [$7] at the Call Centre and were assigned the time – a date, 10 A.M. For starters, they find out at the embassy entrance that the preliminary sign-up at the Call Centre has nothing to do with the way things really are, because those people who were signed up for 9 A.M. are still awaiting their turn. And you have to get in line – into the crowd, that is – and it's not allowed to stand in front of the embassy's windows – because the consul doesn't like it when the view is blocked – and that's why one has to mix with the crowd at some distance. Vova and Dima stand in the crowd by the embassy and await their turn. [When it arrives], the guard, one of whose responsibilities is, in his own words, to “yell,” would yell, “ATTENTION!” and then announce in a thundering voice the last names of those whose turn it is to enter – shamelessly distorting these names. They stand there, smoke, chat – because there's nothing else to do there – and after about an hour and a half of waiting under the burning Kyiv sun, the guard cries out their last names. They come inside and find themselves in a room of 20 square meters, where about two dozen people sit and wait for their appointment. A receptionist girl […] and a guard keep them company. There's no air to breathe in the little room, because they've chosen not to spend money on air conditioning, and this is why [the receptionist] asks the guard in a seductive voice: “Misha, open the door, let them breathe,” and then, in half an hour, “Misha, enough of breathing, close it.” The waiting has to be done in silence and without smiling – at least this is what the [receptionist] says. “Everyone stay silent while I speak,” she addresses the public. “I don't recommend laughing here,” she says strictly to Vova and Dima, who are giggling nervously. In this friendly atmosphere, Vova and Dima spend an hour and a half more, and then they are finally allowed to approach the window where they have to submit applications and the money – exactly $46 each, and only in new bills. By the way, since $46 is a somewhat uneven sum, most local currency exchange points have long ago run out of small dollar bills. They give their papers to a blond girl […], and she, having barely glance at them, asks patronizingly: - Tell me, how long have you been sitting here? – Three hours, – reply Vova and Dima honestly. – Then you had plenty of time to study the right way of filling out the application! – the blond switches to yelling and throws the papers back. The papers fly apart like a fan, but Vova and Dima make a peaceful attempt to find out what exactly it was that annoyed the girl like this. - Excuse me, but could you introduce yourself? – Vova asks.