Thanks "Sis -in-law"!
Let's start at the very beginning:
Day One:
The journey to New Zealand was, thankfully, long but uneventful. Singapore Airlines (with the prettiest female flight attendants I have ever seen in my life, and who turned Himself’s legs to jelly) looked after us with the utmost care and efficiency as we flew over Europe and Asia, including Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Pakistan and all those other countries ending in “stan”, including, much to everyone’s alarm, Afghanistan.
We arrived at Christchurch airport dazed, bewildered, exhausted, but exhilarated having just witnessed a lovely sunrise over Australia. My legs had swollen up so that they resembled giant inflatable sausage-shaped balloons and my head felt like it had been put on back to front.
We stood humbly in line at Immigration and Passport Control. Well, what else can you be but ‘umble in the presence of such omnipotent beings? There she was: forty-ish, tall, short-haired, bespectacled, immaculately dressed in her uniform, and with a face that would melt granite.
“Welcome to New Zealand,” she barked. “Now show me your return tickets or itinerary, or any documentation to prove when you’re returning home.”
We scrabbled frantically around for the itinerary, which had been put together for us by a travel agent over the ‘net, and handed it to her with trembling hands. Like policemen and priests, customs and immigration officials have the uncanny ability to make you feel guilty for breathing in their presence. “This only shows ONE person’s name!” she thundered. Well that was true, only Himself’s name was on the documents as the “lead” member of our little party of two.
“But, but, that’s how it was done. It covers us both,” I pleaded, expecting to feel a hand on my collar. For crying out loud, I thought. We’re a middle-aged British couple on holiday, Commonwealth citizens and fellow subjects of the same Queen, not criminals on the run!
She gave me a look that almost dissolved the flesh from my bones. What have I done to upset you dear? I thought.
“Okay go through” she growled.
We ran through before she could change her mind. I hope her toothache, bunions, stomach-ache, haemorrhoids or whatever it was that was troubling her get better soon.
I made it my mission to regale every local I met with this tale and to their great credit the Kiwis, who are a warm and welcoming folk, were all disgusted, shocked and outraged. One man said that we should have told Ms Jobsworth to “bxxxxr off”, but that, I feel, would not have been wise under the circumstances. Another said we should have said: “Okay you just want us to leave our wallets and go back home then?”
I’m hoping that by telling enough people, my story will find its way into the NZ newspapers, and from there, it will reach Those At The Top.
Watch this space for the next thrilling instalment of “Two Go Mad Down Under”.
Love, Noe.
It does appear though that he has infected Janette.
