Postcard from Melbourne

I think it must have been about half an hour before we landed at Melbourne International Airport when my boss told me she had two packets of biscuits in her suitcase. This was some time in between the cabin crew giving out the cold towels and the embarkation cards. If looks could kill, I think she would no longer be with us. I thought I saw her cringe from the dirty looks my marketing manager and I were giving her. Nothing like waking up, bleary eyed after some 10 hours or so, to be told of such foolishness.

“Well, should you get arrested, we are going to deny we know you,” I told her.

The said suitcase was safely in the belly of the aircraft, courtesy of very efficient airport staff at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport and Bangkok International Airport. Our Thai International flight had taken us from KLIA to Bangkok and Bangkok to Melbourne. Kind of a weird way to travel, I know. But all flights on MAS, SIA and QANTAS from KL were full because university and schools were reopening after the year-end holidays, we were told. We, on the other hand, were en route to Sydney for our annual regional meeting due to take place in four days time. The only way we were going to make it for the meeting was to fly north first and then fly way south. The announcement by my boss certainly took away some of the enjoyment I had of looking out the window and seeing Melbourne from the air for the first time. The airport somehow looks like a group of buildings surrounded by desert. It looked hot and dry.

“Ini macam airport Alor Setak saja ni,” I whispered to my marketing manager.

And as those who travel to Australia know, the country has a very strict policy about food being brought into the country. In fact we were to find out later that a Japanese tourist who brought in two pears was actually fined A$10,000 for his effort. The crime for bringing food into Australia must be quite close to being caught bringing drugs into Malaysia. Wisely, my boss actually put “YES” in the things to declare column and was spared the indignity of having her bags searched. Or so we thought.

Upon landing, trying to act our innocent best, we made our way to the immigration counter and went through without a hitch. It just so happened that Melbourne at that time was organising a tourism fair. So they had quite a large number people in the tourism industry flying in, and since we were also in tourism, I supposed it was assumed we were there for the fair as well.

About 10 metres after the immigration counter, we came to the luggage collection area. The place appeared to be some sort of mini United Nations judging from the number of languages spoken, from Thai and Chinese to Punjabi and Japanese. So there we were, standing around waiting for our bags, when who should arrive but our friendly customs officer and her dog. All of us had carry on bags and you guessed it. The cute, little doggie headed straight for my boss’ bag and sat down in front of it, prompting the customs officer to request that the bag be opened. What now, I thought. A thorough search was made and quite fortunately no illegal substance was found.

“Have you carried food in the bag recently, ma’am?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay then.”

Shucks, and I was so looking forward to hearing the customs officer saying, “Excuse me, ma’am. But we’re going to have to ask you to come with us, please.”

She had in fact carried “masak asam perut ikan” (seems to be a favourite food of Thais from the southern provinces) in the designer bag from Thailand to Malaysia every so often.

Our bags finally came and after that it was she going to the red lane and we to the green lane. But I must say, it was the green lane that seemed the far more dangerous place to be at. The red lane is for “confessed” criminals while the green lane is for those who think they have nothing to declare. We indeed saw somebody actually being hauled up after his bags were put through the scanners and some undeclared items were found. But I must say, the Australian customs officers were extremely polite even while they were hauling you up. We non-criminals were just waved through with a “Good die, sir.”

“Well, good die to you too, mite”.

But what of my boss and her biscuits, you may ask. Well, she was allowed to bring the biscuits into Australia without much fuss.

Anyway it was on to more urgent matters for me, which was rushing out of the airport terminal and lighting up my first cigarette after more than 10 hours. Whoa, it was supposed to be sunny and hot, but it was sunny and cold. In fact most of the nights in Melbourne and Sydney were pretty cold. And those were the times I dearly miss my nightly teh tarik.

One such nights, I actually wandered the streets of Sydney looking for just that. Not teh tarik, but just some hot coffee and donuts. And that was how I ended up meeting this most delightful looking and rather friendly lady in a miniskirt. But then that’s another story.