Presenting my New Zealand passport at Ch. De Gaulle airport brought the queue to a standstill. I still remember the jumped up, bad breathed customs officer bristling and being deliberately obstructive in his questioning of me.
I probably made the process a lot longer by being unhelpful (sensing his hostility). He finally banged his stamp down so firmly on my passport page that I thought it would break (pity it didn't), muttering something. I said "Haere Ra" as I passed through. He probably thought I said Hooray.
Travelling from LA (LAX again) to Monterey in 2005 we were waiting to board a small plane. As I was only going up there for a day I had no luggage. Some bright spark, again in a police-type uniform and with a gun decided to make me remove my belt and shoes to put through the x-ray. Now I know that the 'shoe bomber' had caused a scare a couple of years before but this was a minor domestic route in a small plane. Another case of power going to this person's head. I asked him if he wanted me to take my pants off as well. He said no and I think that the sarcasm went right over his head.
In France again in 2005 I had entered the country at Paris and had been interrogated about the wine samples I was carrying. These passed satisfactorily with a sneer from the Douane Officer thinking "Bringing ze vin to Francais? Is he fou?. Travelling from Paris to Bordeaux, an obviously domestic flight I was bailed up by an officious thug with a gun and uniform who demanded to see what I had in the wine box I was carrying. I said No, that I had already declared it at Paris and it was my business. We had a funny slanging match - him in French and broken English - me in English and broken French. Eventually he waved me through with one of those expressive "Pah's" that the French do so well. One of my colleagues watching from outside the terminal was sure that I was going to get shot.
Travelling to London in the early 80's we stopped at Dubai for refuelling and as there was a problem with the plane we disembarked and went into the airport terminal. It was an unusual sight with Arabs having goats along with their baggage. Arab women in black burquas dripping with gold. On leaving to re-board my girlfriend was pulled aside by two guards for no apparent reason. I protested and had a sub-machine gun pressed into my chest - scary! While I waited she was taken away (by female security) and strip searched. What for we still don't know.
France again in 2003 and I was travelling from London to Paris late at night. There were two lanes - one for EU and one for Others. As it was like a commute there were no 'Others' only me. I went to the desk and several Officers chatting in a corner chose to ignore me leaving me standing, passport in hand. It was late, I was tired and didn't like this game so when they were looking the other way I slipped under the barrier and mingled with the others getting their luggage. On leaving France a week later there was no one checking passports at all so I returned to London and then on To NZ without any stamps in my passport saying I had been in France.
New York (Kennedy) in 2007 we were on our way to LA to connect to NZ and I was stopped at the barrier as I had a large box. It was a Brancusi sculpture copy of the Muse that The Old Girl had bought at the Guggenheim. When I showed it to the guard he did a double take as the material used is a bit like solid plasticine. He probably thought it was semtex or something. As the fool was fumbling and having trouble with opening the box properly I moved up to him and started to do it for him. I got the old "Step aside Sir" routine with the hand on the gun. These bozos must watch too many cop shows on TV. He called up someone else who came with a magic wand for detecting explosives and ran it over the statue, the box and me.
When we arrived in Auckland later I declared it to the Customs Officer and asked if she wanted to check it for explosives. She just smiled and waved me through.
No, she didn't look like these young women. This gratuitous image is just for TSB.
4 comments:
Think I'll be staying in Godzone!
That's a long list of customs uglies. Of all my border crossings this year the only really hostile one was arriving in Dubai from India. Being a woman travelling solo into the UAE didn't do me any favours, but also not having to hand the address of the friends I was staying with (who were picking me up at the airport) meant I was meet with lots of tut tut-ing, shaking of the head and glaring looks, accompaying by several "That's too bad"'s. I made it through eventually complete with a feeling of inferiority.
Thanks for the gratuitous image TC, maybe a bit bigger next time?
Although I've had many customs and immigration types being unfriendly, the worst happened coming into the UK in the late 70s. We had just married, my beloved was still a SIngaporean citizen, and coming back, we were sent into separate tracks. She got stopped by an obnoxious and racist customs guy who looked over all her luggage, and decided that the little Olympus Trip camera she had in her bag must have been bought overseas. She protested that it wasn't even new, and had a couple of scratches and a small dent. Now get this. Mr Slime Ball said" Yes, it's not new, you probably smuggled it in last time you were abroad, we know what you Chinese are like"(3 years previously) he then impounded the camera (with all of our holiday snaps in it) and said she would have tp pay 100 pounds in duty and penalties, unless she could provide proof that it had been bought in the UK.
Bastard.
Wow- that's bad, awful. Richard's got the right idea I think.
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