Australia holds fond memories for me; I found and promptly lost the love of my life, learnt to drive a 4x4 up and down sand banks, how to drink beer, but mostly how to relax, a skill I find none too simple. To this day spending a day lounging around in the sun with cricket on in the background and ‘stubby’ (or more likely Pimms if I’m in the UK) in hand makes me feel slightly uncomfortable, like I should be doing something more productive but then I remember, if a whole nation build their reputation on nothing more than having fun then so can I.
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| Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge after the rain |
My adventure started after a ludicrously long flight from Santiago to Sydney through Auckland, where we stopped disembarked and re-embarked. On the second leg I found myself sitting next to a girl who I would have kindly described as a free spirit, in reality she looked a bit grubby; greasy hair slicked back, browning tie die prints and a discernable lack of personal hygiene. Despite this she seemed quite friendly and we were soon chatting about what I should expect in Sydney, she was even staying at my hostel and agreed to accompany me there. On arrival we queued for what seemed like an eternity at passport control and my new found friend started talking to a man who had appeared quite by magic behind us, she was shifting nervously and eventually terminated the conversation with a gruff ‘OK’.
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| Skyscrapers of the CBD |
“Who was that?” I inquired, “Oh just a friend of mine from Auckland”. I was satisfied with this explanation and took my turn at passport control. The process took longer than I expected as I was asked about my activities in South America but soon all paper work in order I headed out to the carousels to collect my rucksack. Unsurprisingly the girl had vanished but unphased I wandered through customs. I could see Sydney by this point, the sliding doors were opening as I strode towards them, sunshine glinting through the skylights when someone caught my eye…the man from earlier was looking at me so I enquired after the girl. This was where my trouble really began, I should have realised that someone with their bags open on a table with a customs officer riffling through them was not someone I should be associating myself with. But it was too late, I was surrounded. A group of men in blue police uniforms guided me to the side where they relieved me of my passport, luggage and tickets, I was panicking and trying to summon enough courage to ask what on earth was happening. The most senior looking officer turned round and sarcastically asked “do you not know what’s going on”. He clearly saw the blankness of my expression and no more sympathetically explained “you’re being arrested on suspicion of international drug smuggling”. Instantly the headlines that would accompany my fall from grace circled in front of me ‘Senior Civil Servants Daughter Involved in Drug Ring’ and the like.
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| Bondi when the sun finally shone! |
Tediously every inch of me and my possessions were searched and I was questioned for what seemed like hours but it soon became clear to all involved that I was not the girl they were looking for. The mistake was clear, the man I had spoken to had been found to be carrying a very large quantity of cocaine with him and I was thought to be his partner in crime! I was released feeling weak and shaky, but I was resilient and knew a Mars bar and a coke would sort me out and I’d soon be recovering on the famous white sand beaches. But of course Mother Nature had other ideas and as I stumbled out onto the brightly lit concourse of Sydney airport the skies opened and a two year drought was broken…
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