First up, you need a passport. Not the one from your high school trip, but a valid, non-expired one that still has your actual face on it. Then comes the ESTA or a visa, which is basically the government’s way of saying, “We believe you’ll go home after eating all those pancakes.” Getting an ESTA is like online dating – you fill out a profile, hope they swipe right, and wait nervously for a yes. If you mess up one answer, you’re suddenly explaining why you’ve visited “North Korea – for business” in 2012.
Do not, I repeat, do not lie on this form. The U.S. Customs guys have seen it all. They have a radar for “exaggerated vacation plans” and “I’ll definitely return to my job as a goat farmer.” Just be honest. Say you want to see the Grand Canyon and eat a twelve-inch sub. That’s usually enough.
Also, print out your travel confirmation. Not just a picture on your phone. Print it. The universe will ensure your battery dies the second you hand your phone to the officer. We’ve all been there.
