Okay. I'm game. Here's the first of two.
I was on my way from Omaha, Nebraska, to Melbourne Australia, via Denver and LAX. Route was OMA-DEN-LAX-AKL-MEL. I remembered that the host family I was staying with (for my college scholarship) had loved Cinnabons. So I bought 2 boxes of those and carried them with me. Not a problem on the flight there, until a nice little layover in Auckland, New Zealand. Get there at 5am in the morning, have no idea where you need to go, but you see what the other people are doing and going where they're going. So I follow them, miss the (barely visible) sign to the in-transit area, follow the people, and enter the country! Can't get back, get the police called on me because I'm not supposed to be *in* New Zealand, and after 20 minutes, they finally let me back to the transit area. Get something to eat and sit down (12 hours in a plane with another 3 to go!), when I hear louder than a klaxon on the USS Intrepid, "Flight 841 to Melbourne is now departing at Gate 5. Passengers should already be on board as the flight will be leaving without you."
So I make like Usain Bolt down the airport, make it to the gate, for them to tell me that they haven't even done the pre-boarding yet!
Make the plane, Fly across the Tasman Sea, then get the dreaded Customs Declaration card. I read the card: Any Guns, knives, hunting equipment, Duty-Free for some dollar amount, and money over some amount must be declared. No dairy allowed.
And I have these cinnamon rolls. With Cream Cheese Frosting! Do I declare them, or not! This is my first trip out of the country, and I don't want to get busted and arrested and send back home! Not knowing what to do, I declare them.
Get to Tullamarine in Melbourne, where they have a green line, and a red line. Guess which one the declared items are! Down the Red line I go, get asked the 150 questions from the customs officials (what do you do, how much do you make, what do your parents do, how much do they make, how long have they done it).. They look at my passport (which the pictures there are worse, because the best passport picture they pick is the one where you've been up cramming for some big exam in the morning!), ask me some more questions, then walk away for a bit. I look at the next line over.. Some guy is putting together an elephant rifle, shotguns, unsheathing knives.. things that Steve Irwin, Paul Hogan, and some other Bring 'em Back Bogey wild game-hunting guys would use to go out into the bush alone and would be guaranteed to come back after 3 weeks without a scratch..
.. and all I have are these cinnamon rolls! So I'm panicking.. I mean, PANICKING!! Like they could hear my knees knocking back in New Zealand! And what scared me more was that they let those guys enter the country, and before me!!
Thankfully, they let me in. All that they needed to take (which they did), was the extra packets of frosting. Bullets, knives, machetes, rifles all PASS, and they ding me for CREAM CHEESE FROSTING!!
Gotta love air travel.
BL.