1. New York, New York.
Our adventure began in an airport, as most adventures do in this modern age
where crossing the Atlantic Ocean by boat is generally a pursuit enjoyed by
people with time, money or a phobia of flying. Birmingham International
Airport to be precise, at about 7.30am. In a generous attempt to help us pass
the tedious hours before take-off, staff engaged us in the delightful activity of
"the bag search". Security is, of course, increasingly important and we did not
have anything to hide, so I really should not complain. However, Emma and I
always seem to get searched when we are leaving the country. Five years
earlier when we finished at university and were heading to France for three
weeks in our car, passport control stopped us and they rifled through
everything. Everything in this case included numerous plastic bags of cash
that we had taped inside the car – through fear of being mugged and losing all
our money. OK, so perhaps they do have "just cause" to always search us.
On the present occasion, as we stood on the verge of our adventure,
the bag that staff decided to check was the only one that actually did contain
some things that we did not pack ourselves. This was not drugs, guns, or
even nail scissors; no Emma's parents were sending us off with some
Christmas presents to enable us to participate more fully in the festive season
while on the other side of the world. At least the security officer did not unwrap
the gifts, however neither would she let Emma's mother whisper what the
contents were (why ever not we could not imagine!) Instead she insisted that
they be put through the X-ray machine. Fortunately the officer restrained from