A big welcome in New Zealand

Perhaps we had gotten so used to being easy-going, laid-back, South-American nomads that we didn't see any of it coming. Our first day in New Zealand was one in the airport, and it was quite a long one after a total of 24 hours of traveling and an 8-hour time difference.

We managed a soothing concerto of "Oops" and "Really?" and "Is that so?" sounds when the customs lady informed us that we needed an outward ticket in order to enter the country. Despite our charming personalities, she sent us into a waiting line in order "to have a conversation with the customs officials", who informed us that we were a special case because we should never have been allowed to board the plane without an outward ticket. We became discouraged as the long line of problem cases from mostly South-America, Africa and Europe dissolved before our eyes. With the help of our airline we eventually managed to book a ticket to Australia and we were on our way.

Confused passenger

Wait a second. Of course our luggage was not on the conveyer belt anymore and Graham experienced a mild panic when his bag appeared to be missing. We searched all over, in our minds already cursing the customs desk for keeping us up so long and eventually realised that for some strange reason Graham's luggage had been kept apart behind a counter in the luggage area. We grabbed our bags and we were on our merry way again, we thought.

We smiled at the officer with the drug sniffing dog as he passed by. Maybe we smiled too much because the dog took an immediate liking into Graham. Our smile turned a little bit awkward and we were taken aside for questioning. This is where thoughts run through your mind like "Wait, why was Graham's bag really behind that counter? Did somebody put drugs in it?" but we friendly answered all their questions. We were questioned separately but both our conversations went something like this:

>"Where are you fellas flying from?""Santiago de Chile, but via...">"Please just answer the question and let me do the talking.""Yes sir.">"Have you been traveling around South America?""Yes sir.">"Do you have any drugs on you?""No sir.">"Did you do any drugs in South America?""No sir.">"My dog seems to like you/your friend.""Yes sir.">"I'm not interested in recreational use of drugs so just answer honestly: did you use drugs in South America?""No sir.">"You went to South America and didn't do any drugs?" [disbelief]"No sir.">"Do you smoke in Belgium?""No sir.">"W0000T?"

And so on. Eventually they recognized us for the honest and friendly non-drug-using gentlemen we are and we were on our way, we thought.



Next we were sent to a customs check where we were asked to show our hiking boots for any rural remains. Dimitri's eyes widened as he stood beside the officer and watched his bag pass through the x-ray machine. His machete was clearly visible, a huge chunk of metal distinguishable in the middle of his bag. This conversation went something like this:

Officer: "Weeeell, that is a huuuuuge machete in your bag!">Us: Uncomfortable laugh.Officer: "What are you gonna use that for over here? Slicing coconuts are we?>Us: Uncomfortable laugh.Officer: "Well on your way you are then, have a great stay."

We took our bags and got out of there as fast as we could.

D&G

P.S. Contrary to what we thought beforehand, WIFI is in most places either not as widely available as in South America (whaaaat?) or extremely expensive. If you see less blog posts passing by, then you now know why.