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Welcome To New Zealand, Eh Bro

Auckland, New Zealand


The question I get asked more than any other is, "How do you get through customs?" which is a reference to the unnecessary amount of metal I have through various parts of my head. My usual reply (which is always accompanied by a "my my aren't you funny and original and I've never heard that one before" sort of laugh) is "No worries, I never get stopped." Now I was never particularly good in English Lit, my understanding of irony isn't strong but I think this might be it.

So I made it to New Zealand yesterday with only minor hassles and by minor I mean being accused of smuggling drugs by a dog with a penchant for squeaky toys being handled by an eight foot Maori woman. I may be exaggerating slightly but when you're sat there while a man shouts at you for putting your hand in your pockets with visions of latex gloves flashing through your mind things do seem a bit out of proportion, I mean, I've never been in trouble with the police or customs before. This was a whole new thing for me. I shake when I'm pulled over for a random breath test even if I haven't had a drink for three days. I don't deal well with people in uniforms thinking I've done stuff I haven't, I just ooze guilt from every pore, I feel like I have "I DID IT AND DAMMIT I'D DO IT AGAIN!" written across my forehead in permanent marker.

Before the customs guy searched my bag he told me if they didn't find anything they might strip search me and you know what was going through my mind? Honestly? All I could think was, fuck, I wish I'd bothered shaving this morning. If I was gonna have to get naked in front of strangers whilst stone cold sober I could at least look vaguely hot instead of having a minge you could sand door frames with. I made a mental note to improve personal grooming before any future flights just in case.

So he searched my bags and jacket, all the time asking me loads of questions about my drug use and have I come into contact with anyone who uses drugs and if I did drugs it was ok as long as I didn't try and bring them into New Zealand. He emptied everything out onto an aluminium bench, went through all my pockets (bear in mind I wear combat trousers, I'm a huge fan of pockets) and by the time he'd gone through my bags and found nothing he let me go.

Without a strip search.

Shame. It'd have been the most action I'd seen in a fortnight.

permalink written by  Koala Bear on May 21, 2008 from Auckland, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Tiny Little NZ Road Trip
tagged Bollocks

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Nice pictures!! Its really beautiful with presonal touch.

permalink written by  gertrudeyoung58 on June 24, 2009


thanks for the post.

permalink written by  Test on May 26, 2016

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I live life on the edge.

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