the night was full of goodbyes. i didnt get any sleep because i was so anxious for what was to come. waking up before the sun my parents did me the favor of dropping me off at the airport. parked in the departures lane, i gave my dad a strong hug and kissed my mom goodbye. at the counter, i checked in alone. virtually no line through customs and wondering what to think of it all. i was about to embark on a new journey halfway across the globe. this time, the longest, most intense and by myself. i killed time by playing super mario world on my laptop and spent the first flight speaking spanish with the mexican heading to puerto rico. bragging to him about my previous travels on low budgets, squeezing as much life out of life as possible. "go ahead and experience new things" i told him. "Just do it" like i was once told. my two decades of experience were inspiring in a way. He was mildly captivated and wished me luck, promising to keep in touch. the second flight, Houston- Washington DC, didnt go quite the same. A DC native sat next to me and a conversation got started. where are you headed? he asked. "london" i replied. he nodded and grinned like his face was a one thumb up. "but I'm heading to a little bit of the middle east, and egypt" i couldnt resist. his eyes widened slightly this time, he was listening. "what part?"
he calmly asked. still being arrogant i said "well you know, Israel, jordan, but i really wanted to see syria". "syria? theres some things going down over there" He began explaining the politics behind all the mania in the middle east. His intent was merely to inform, not to discourage. This guy was no joke, I'm used to people with no experience giving me advice about traveling. i usually pretend these strangers are giving me credible insight, and later on brush off the nonsense they blabbered about. but he was different. he knew his shit. Now, I was listening. we went off non-stop conversing about life and its many complexities. human nature, different cultures, small things people arent aware of in their routine lives, him having children, me being a child, having parents. all with at least two points of view. we clicked, on que. he put things into perspective for me from his experience. I understood most of it and questioned what i didnt. so much humble wisdom was bluetoothed from his brain onto mine. the conversation eventually became very technical and wore us out a bit. i fell asleep for a little while and awoke to him asking me more about my gear. "I have it all" i told him. "in and around my (school) backpack i have my home, office, kitchen, studio, workshop, closet, ". " you need one that straps to your hips" he insisted. i know but you take what you can get" i laughed. once landing he excused himself and called his daughter next to me. "I just landed sweety, come pick me up. Oh and that backpack thats in the basement, bring that too". the pilot came on and released us from the airbus. on the way out, he asked me to walk him out. i dont know much about airplane rules but i walked him out anyway. we made it to his two seater convertible bmw on the pick up lane and he pulled out a proper pack for backpacking. "i want you to have it" he said. just like that, and handed it over. i tried to declining but he genuinely wanted it for me with nothing in return. maybe he noticed the glimmer in my eyes when i saw it."put some miles on it!" he said and drove off. it was a perfect fit when i tried it on. i couldnt be any happier.
so far, so good. i smoked a cigarette outside meanwhile discovering pockets, zipping, unzipping, strapping down, buckling, tightening and loosening my new pack. unfortunately, i had to start the whole process again to get to the gates. hurry up and wait in a line was the procedure. the line in DC was excruciatingly long. the closer i got to the x ray machines, the more i wondered if this new gift on my back would cause more harm than good. what if i was carrying something i wasnt allowed to carry on board? how would i explain this scenario to TSA? "oh yea officer, a complete stranger gave me this bag and i didnt know what was in it." i didnt think that would go down so easy, so i quickly changed the story in my head to "a friend came by to drop it off before i departed" good enough to fool them, you sly dawg, but they didnt even bother to ask. bag clear, guitar clear. it had already been a few hours since i left texas. hunger set in so i bought the cheapest sandwich i could find in the airport, but i also splurged a few extra dollars on cookies. at the gate with the plane heading to heathrow, you could already smell the english coffee. i befriended a trio of blond americans with macadamian nut. they had packs similar to mine so i figured i'd ask where they were heading. "were backpacking london for two weeks and paris for one" they said. their hotels reserved ahead of time. pfft. i didnt bother with emails. i imagined, with their three week budget i could travel a year the way i travel. time came to board, and i was seated next to a couple of american tourists heading to moscow. since i didnt have a host yet, i was secretly hoping to sweet talk a local into letting me crash their couch a day while i figured out the next step. no such luck. the pilot spoke through the speaker, seatbelts on, and i was launched into the sky for the last time. the flight was long and exhausting. you get a choice of lame tv shows or bad music for six and a half hours. with violent shaking randomly in the upright position, i still managed to get about an hour of sleep. happened to be during desert. damn it! thats the only part i like. around six in the morning english time we started circleing london. i couldnt wait to land. after a half hour of loops in the air, we started decending. the tires screeched, making everyone slightly bounce off their seats, and we finally had contact with the earth again. this time in the european hemisphere, safely rolling to a stop. the captain came on the intercom and handed us over to the authorities. it was like a bouch of cattle forming lines again. the NON-EU line was shorter but definitely not faster. when it was my turn i walked up to the counter and out of all the immigration officers i got one old hag with a pissy face on. she must have missed breakfast or something. i handed over the little piece of paper they have you fill out, stating i would be in the UK only for two days. after an evening of work, a sleepless night, 18 hours of airports, lines, waiting, flying, more airports, more lines, more waiting, i wasnt as charismatic as my usual self. the conversation went a little like this. I.O. how long will you be in the UK?
me- one day but i put two just in case
I.O. -where will you be staying?
me- with a friend
I.O.- whats your friends name?
me- uhh, jonathon
I.O.- his FULL name.
me- uhh, langford
I.O.- how do you know jonathon?
me- through the internet
I.O.- where does jonathon live?
(i almost giggled at the thought of both of us trying to figure out where this fictional character lived)
me- im not so sure, i have to check the internet. worst case ill book a hostel
I.O.- which hostel?
me- smart russel sqaure (the hostel i stayed at my first time in london)
I.O.- whats the address to this hostel?
me-(this time i giggled) im not sure, ill have to check the internet.
I.O.- where are you heading after UK?
me- belgium
I.O.- and after belgium?
me- germany
I.O.- and after germany?
me- im heading to egypt, and ill be crossing any country on the way by land
I.O.- how long will you be traveling?
me- five or six months, (i was being honest) but i would like to get to the middle east as fast as possible
I.O.-then why did you come to the UK?
me- it was the cheapest flight into europe
I.O.- how much money do you have in the bank?
me- four or five hundred dollars
I.O.- No
me No?
I.O.- its not possible
me- it is very possible, this is how i travel.
I.O.- do you have a return ticket?
me- no
I.O.- how will you get home?
me- if i need to i will phone home for extra money
I.O.- what do your parents do for a living?
me- im sorry, is there a problem?
I.O.- yes, I need to figure out why you are here
me- yes, i told you already, im heading to egypt by land.
I.O.- with trains, hotels and restaurants, you will spend your money in a couple of days
me- yes but i hitch hike, stay with friends, and cook my own food.
I.O.- even then how will you stretch four hundred dollars for six months? are you planning to work?
me- no, i just finished working and i have more money coming in.
I.O.- How much money?
me- look, i just came to england because it was a cheap flight. ill be in belgium tomorrow out of the UK so i dont see the problem
I.O.- you look, its up to me to decide whether or not you enter the country. so i would change the attitude.
me- youre right, im sorry, im just very exhausted from traveling all the way from texas and i would like to get some food.
I.O.- ... wait here. ill get some one else to see you.
me. someone else to see me?
she took my passport, closed her counter and went away to fetch another officer. meanwhile i was told to wait at a bench with three brown guys wearing caps with a mexico logo, a small group of africans and a family of muslims. being american this was a category i wasnt expecting to ever be in. fucking english immigration, as if their country was so great. i was getting ansy and embarressed at the same time. the whole line of passengers on my same flight made it through with ease. even the three blonde bimbos pretended i didnt exist. what the hell is going on, am i dreaming? another flight arrived, and they all made it through with time to spare before they put the attention back on me. two officers came to escort me, "come with us please". no one else got escorted, i started to worry. they, one male of turkish decent and a shorter female both with heavy london accents, took me to get my luggage. a single backpack layed on an otherwise empty conveyer belt. the officers showed me to a spotless slerling silver table, patted me down and asked me to empty my belongings. i complied and started dumping my things out of my bag. they searched with caution, slowly checking everything with latex gloves for some unknown reason. a belt, random t shirts, a tent, a rolled up tarpouline, a laptop, a guitar, extra pair of shoes, an extra backpack, a bank bag with assorted pliers, screw drivers, key rings, coins from foreign countries amongst goofy random items such as a necktie, a cape, a butterfly knife, all laid out. i fussed," i dont understand the problem, am i in trouble?". they said "we dont know but weve been told to detain you. once i was cleared, i was showed to a seperate room, one the likes of normal tourists never get see. "were going to take some photographs of you, sit there please" i sat in front of a household digital camera and prepared myself for a mugshot. "take off your hat please" the lady officer said."okay but im not combing my hair" i whined jokingly. by the time i was finished being fingerprinted there was a set of four prepherated photo prints with my face on it. "hey i kinda like this picture, you think i could keep one?". she smiled and tore me off a piece. even if i got deported it would make a nice souvenir. they took me to another room deeper in the mysterious 'behind the scenes' heathrow. in a new room, i was searched again and seperated from my bag. a nice staff member with my passport in his hands asked with enthusiasm " youre from texas, what are you doing in london?". i replied with "ive come a very long way and im not in london yet, whats going on? i just want to get out of here". he frowned " they are looking for someone to interview you". "interview me? how long is this all going to take?" he politely said "i havent a clue, he could be on his way now, or it could take several hours". i hissed" arhh, well im hungry. i need to eat something, are you just going to starve me here?" he giggled at my impatience and points to a small fridge filled with sanwiches. " youre hungry, take whatever you like, and theres a coffee machine over there". i calmed down and thanked him. i took a sanwich and stuffed it in my mouth without thinking twice. he smiled and said "i cant stay with you but if you need anything ill be in the next room". he walked over to his work space, i could see him clearly through two window panes. another sandwich, two coffees and a water. the machine was selling cups once upon a time, the type that spits a new cup everytime with the correct amount of fluid, but was now rigged so you didnt have to pay. i took advatage of this, and pushed the buttons even though i wasnt thristy, starting a collection of coffee cups. i paced back and forth for a few minutes and decided i was too tired to stress. i spotted a leather lounge chair, one you could find in a therapists' office, and decided to lay down. once there, i noticed the surveillance camera pointed at me, recording every second. WTF? the minute hand on the clock on the wall did a full rotation before i gave up. i used my bandana as a blindfold, my jacket as a blanket and tried to get some sleep. after some time a lady came in pushing a cart. i removed my blindfold to find she was part of the cleaning crew. i tried to say hello but she was foreign and didnt speak english. she simply ignored me and scurried away. to her, i was the criminal being detained. and to me, how she managed to get a job at the airport, especially cleaning rooms of immigration officers will remain a mystery. the nice englishman came back with cookies and apologized for the wait. i told him "its okay, i know its not your fault, but thanks". i ate the cookies and went back to sleep. some hours later the door opened again and a tall chubby officer woke me up with the sounds of his loud footsteps. "Izrayelle Kevazus" he summoned, i got up and walked over to him, calmly not to startle and forced my best smile before shaking his hand. he sat me in a chair in a room within the detaining cell i was already in and shut the door. "i will be conducting a formal interview". "no problem, i will tell you everything you need to know" i smiled and asked politely this time " but i dont understand, why i am being detained? did i do something wrong? im being treated like a criminal, i promise ill leave the country today if i have to". he looked at me said "thats not the problem, if you go off to europe and get into trouble you will be sent back here and the british government will have to pay for a flight to deport you. so, i need you to be very honest with me because if youre lying, or i think you are lying i will just deport you now.". holy fuck! this whole process was to deport me? ive looked at maps, made plans, found work, and told many many people about this trip for months. and it could all be over before i even set foot in england. i did my best to cooperate. the interview began with basic questions: name, birthdate, address. writing down both every word he asked and every word i answered. then the questions got more and more personal, whats your education level, married or single, have you ever been convicted of any crime, what do you do for a living, how much money in your bank account, what do you parents do for a living, how much do they earn a year etc. i explained ive been traveling for a few years, and had a travel blog on the internet. i pulled out a homemade business card with a QR code link to ziggyflairs.blogspot with the print 'ziggy was here' on one side and my email address on the other. i travel on a low budget on purpose, its the only way to get a real adventure. he wasnt impressed. after an hour on the hot seat, he put his pen down removed his reading glasses "well that concludes the interview. i believe you were honest with me however it is not my choice to decide. i will pass this on to my boss and he will decide." he asked me to sign the document and wait. indeed a formal interview, about three pages long of some very private information. and having no other choice, i did. after 45 minutes the same chubby officer came back with a sheet of paper. i glanced at it to find a T chart list of pros and cons about me entering the country. the cons far outweighed the pros. he sat back down in his seat and said "well izrell, normally in a situation like this we'd be sending you back home. But, today is an especially busy day here at heathrow and to deport you would take another five hours of paperwork. i think it'll be much easier just to give your passport a stamp." relief set in, no longer feeling the heat pulsating in my face i smiled and said. "yes, thank you, that would be much easier." hearing the sound of a new stamp on my passport is always great but this one was heaven. i put away my passport and before i could leave he says "stay out of trouble please, i dont want to see you in here again." i replied with "no worries, you will never ever in your life ever see me again." and left before he could change his mind.
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