Granada Travel Blog› entry 28 of 34 › view all entries
They didnâ€™t give us a stamp at the border. This is always a bit of a downer, but now that turned into a real pain. We got off the plane and went to collect our bags. An official had waited until we claimed our bags before pouncing on us. â€śAhh, no stamp! You are obviously sick perverted deviants that we wish to discourage in our proud and distinguished countryâ€ť (rough translation). Two police officers escorted us into a back room, while a third snapped on a pair of rubber gloves as we entered. Both our hearts stoppedâ€¦ And not surprisingly, Tristan was unable to remember the direct translation for "please use more water based lubricant" (though it was in the phrase-book).
Luckily they just wanted to search our bags for drugs and search they did. Secret pouches, ArleneÂ´s camera, toiletry kits, dirty underwear and our travel scrabble all got a good seeing to. The highlight was when the police officer squirted half a tube of sunscreen up his nose (probably a highly specialised drug detection technique) and we were able to offer him some of our toilet paper to clean himself up.The interrogation took over an hour. Partly because the language barrier. And partly because they decided to photocopy everything out of our notebook. Wonder what they made out of our budget calculations and our Gin rummy scoresâ€¦..