Trains and Planes – The Journey Begins

Our flight to Israel was leaving on Tuesday evening from Gatwick Airport. For non-Brits, Gatwick is about an hour south of London and given that we lived about one hour to the North we knew it was going to be a long trek to the airport. In addition, it was a normal working day for most so we could not rely on anyone to give us a lift. With Public Transport we were looking at two and a half hours but then by car, once you drove around London on the M25 (or what there was of it at the time) you could easily spend the same amount of time and at the end of your journey, some poor bugger had to drive the same distance home again.

So, Bus, Train, Underground and Train again it was before we arrived at the Airport, two long-haired individuals, with large holdalls, two ghetto blasters and two guitars in cases. As we walked into the terminal building I am certain I heard the loud thwack as the airport security boys hauled on their marigolds. But this was not to be our first hurdle, no not by a long chalk. Our first challenge was to get past the Israeli flight security screening. I think this experience had become more intense over the years but this might be due to increasing threat levels or just the number of trips I have made to Israel.

When we were waved forward and placed our bags on the table and the two officials (they always hunt in pairs) asked to see our passports and tickets, as a first-timer, I did not know what to expect. Now I do, so I make an effort to do a little preparation. As it turned out little preparation is required when it’s your first trip there because when their opening question is “Is this your first trip to Israel?” and you answer  “Yes” then a whole area of questioning is closed down.

However, once the answer becomes “No.”, then they want names, dates, and times, who you stayed with, who you talked to, was the planet, Jupiter, in the ascendancy in the house of Aires, who won the super bowl, Wimbledon, the FA cup final. You get the picture I am sure. You may even have endured the questioning yourself.

Now at the time of writing this, I have made dozens, literally dozens, of trips to Israel and at one time I was averaging about between three and five trips a year, so you can see the problem. My passport was a mass of entry and exit visas and difficult even for me to follow. This has been further complicated by frequent day trips through the Taba crossing to Sinai to go scuba diving, with the accompanying entry and exit visas from Egypt and as you can well imagine my passport was a mass of blue ink and pretty postage stamps.
Unfortunately handing the security officer your passport and saying something like. “You wanna know so bad you do the maths,” is not an advisable option.
Another thing I learnt from the start is it is a good idea to tell the truth as far as possible because it is easier to remember the truth and you will be cross-examined at least twice.  I say “as far as possible” because the one exception to the telling the truth should be the answer to the question “What is the purpose of your visit?”.
Obviously steer well clear of the truth on this one if you want to make it past the security check.   Admitting you are going to lie on their beaches, bed as many Israeli girls as you can, and get off your face when you can’t or any combination of the above is a definite no.
Try instead using phrases like, “Experience rich cultural tapestry”, or “explore the timeless wonder of your architectural heritage”, these are generally well-received.   The guys and girls doing the questioning won’t believe you anymore than you believe it yourself but it makes them feel more inclined to let you go if you at least make an effort.

Above all else, and probably the most difficult part for me and Dingo was trying not to crack jokes or trying to be funny.
These people have no sense of humour.  I am personally convinced that they have had their sense of humour surgically removed or cloned out of them and given that these individuals exist in considerable numbers at all airports worldwide where there is a direct flight to Israel and at all the major sea, land and air entry points into Israel itself, we are talking about a large body of individuals.  Now you are not going to try and tell me this is not the by-product of some secret scientific project.  However, unless you want the complete contents of your luggage emptied out on the table in front of you, every cosmetic and toiletry item taken away for x-ray and then being left to repack it all yourself, then do yourself a favour.  No jokes.
I have even seen them stoop so low as to squeeze all of the toothpaste out of a blokes tube.
One positive thing I will say about all the security screening, there never seems to be a long queue at check-in for flights to Israel.  Therefore, once we were checked in, rid of our bags and guitar cases, and in possession of our boarding cards, it was quick hop through security and then onto passport control and then through into the wonderful world of duty-free.
On the subject of duty-free, I have the following observations.  Whilst I know that it is possible to purchase duty-free items if you are travelling outside the European Union, I felt they certainly took the heart out of the whole airport experience when they introduced the duty-free ban to EU destinations in 2000.  A week or two after the ban was imposed I was travelling through Gatwick to Denmark.  When I exited the security area I was greeted by one of the special “Tax-Free Shopping Advisers” or so it said on her purple T-shirt.  She inquired where I was travelling to. When I said Denmark, she said: “Well you can’t buy cigarettes or alcohol as you are travelling inside the EU.”
Now I was already aware of that fact as it had been advertised on posters throughout the airport, posters of a certain size and dramatic colour  which it was impossible to miss, but ever the optimist I enquired of my “Tax-Free Shopping Adviser”
“So, what is it exactly we gain from the ban on purchasing Alcohol and Cigarettes?”
The woman took a moment to consider this question before carefully answering me honestly, “Nothing.”
“Well,” I said “that’s good. I just thought I would check.”
Anyway, in June 1987 we were almost thirteen years away from that fateful day, so the old duty-free shopping experience was in full swing.
We purchased a couple of litre bottles of our favourite scotch whisky and a couple of hundred cigarettes each and then went in search of a bar as the sun was well and truly over the yardarm, and we had a couple of hours to kill before our flight departed.

Next Time – Coming in on a wing and a prayer – The Flight 

This article was originally published on 01/6/2017