John in Melbourne
Member
- Joined
- May 25, 2008
- Posts
- 104
- Qantas
- Gold
This is my first trip report, so I hope I'm starting it in the right place in AFF.
On the 10th of July, 2007, I was in Tegel Airport waiting in a departure lounge for a BA flight to London. I'd just spent 8 days in Berlin, sharing a holiday flat with "B" a friend from Melbourne. I was quite surprised to hear a public address system announcement in English: "Would Mr <my name> please report to check-in". I'd already been through check-in, passport control and security, so I thought, yippee I'm going to get an upgrade, and waited for BA staff to come to the departure gate. About 10 minutes later, there were no BA staff but there was a second, more urgent, announcement: "Would Mr <my name> come to check-in IMMEDIATELY". That's odd, I thought, having to go back there to get an upgrade. But still an upgrade is an upgrade. I grabbed my carry-on bag, explained to the security staff and the passport-control cop, then went to check-in.
"Mr <my name>, please go to the man in the grey suit," the BA check-in officer said, pointing to a well-dressed man staring at me.
My heart sank. B must have been in an accident on his way to the station, I thought. He was leaving Berlin by train.
"Come with me," said Mr Greysuit, gesturing me towards a blank door in a blank wall.
We went through the door into a medium-sized room. A long stainless-steel bench stood there. On top of it was my checked-in suitcase, bound with red plastic "security risk" tape.
WTF?
"Why do you have a gun in your bag?"
My mind went blank. I stared at him open-mouthed (I know, what a cliche).
Desperately trying to get my act together, I asked if there was an x-ray photo I could see.
"Yes, the monitor above your bag."
I went around to the other side of the bench. "S**t, there's a gun in my bag!" It just popped out of my mouth. Why had B put a gun in my bag? I'd known him for 35 years.
"Come around this side of the bench and take everything out of your bag, piece by piece." Mr Greysuit was pleasant and non-threatening.
My hands were clammy and shaking and my armpits were wet. I'd read about governments having laws to jail terrorism suspects for weeks of investigation.
I did as he said, taking everything out of my overstuffed bag, piece by piece until...no gun!! Between different layers of clothes, I had placed a torch, an electric toothbrush and a rolled-up belt with a metal buckle, thus forming the x-ray picture of a "gun".
While he phoned his boss to confirm my innocence, I jammed everything back into my suitcase.
The clock on the wall said 10 minutes to departure and I had to check my suitcase back in and go through passport control and security again. "Would you please escort me through so I don't miss my plane?" I asked him.
He did. I breezed through check-in, was waved through passport control and he left me at security. For those who don't know, Tegel is a small airport. The departure lounges are small. At that time, the security areas opened straight onto them. That's why a crowd of people were standing watching me, the "suspect" who delayed boarding, get an extremely intimate high-security frisking.
I still like Berlin.
On the 10th of July, 2007, I was in Tegel Airport waiting in a departure lounge for a BA flight to London. I'd just spent 8 days in Berlin, sharing a holiday flat with "B" a friend from Melbourne. I was quite surprised to hear a public address system announcement in English: "Would Mr <my name> please report to check-in". I'd already been through check-in, passport control and security, so I thought, yippee I'm going to get an upgrade, and waited for BA staff to come to the departure gate. About 10 minutes later, there were no BA staff but there was a second, more urgent, announcement: "Would Mr <my name> come to check-in IMMEDIATELY". That's odd, I thought, having to go back there to get an upgrade. But still an upgrade is an upgrade. I grabbed my carry-on bag, explained to the security staff and the passport-control cop, then went to check-in.
"Mr <my name>, please go to the man in the grey suit," the BA check-in officer said, pointing to a well-dressed man staring at me.
My heart sank. B must have been in an accident on his way to the station, I thought. He was leaving Berlin by train.
"Come with me," said Mr Greysuit, gesturing me towards a blank door in a blank wall.
We went through the door into a medium-sized room. A long stainless-steel bench stood there. On top of it was my checked-in suitcase, bound with red plastic "security risk" tape.
WTF?
"Why do you have a gun in your bag?"
My mind went blank. I stared at him open-mouthed (I know, what a cliche).
Desperately trying to get my act together, I asked if there was an x-ray photo I could see.
"Yes, the monitor above your bag."
I went around to the other side of the bench. "S**t, there's a gun in my bag!" It just popped out of my mouth. Why had B put a gun in my bag? I'd known him for 35 years.
"Come around this side of the bench and take everything out of your bag, piece by piece." Mr Greysuit was pleasant and non-threatening.
My hands were clammy and shaking and my armpits were wet. I'd read about governments having laws to jail terrorism suspects for weeks of investigation.
I did as he said, taking everything out of my overstuffed bag, piece by piece until...no gun!! Between different layers of clothes, I had placed a torch, an electric toothbrush and a rolled-up belt with a metal buckle, thus forming the x-ray picture of a "gun".
While he phoned his boss to confirm my innocence, I jammed everything back into my suitcase.
The clock on the wall said 10 minutes to departure and I had to check my suitcase back in and go through passport control and security again. "Would you please escort me through so I don't miss my plane?" I asked him.
He did. I breezed through check-in, was waved through passport control and he left me at security. For those who don't know, Tegel is a small airport. The departure lounges are small. At that time, the security areas opened straight onto them. That's why a crowd of people were standing watching me, the "suspect" who delayed boarding, get an extremely intimate high-security frisking.
I still like Berlin.