And all was for an apple

At the start of the month we all headed over to the other side of the ditch, as they refer to the Tasman Sea round here, and spent five nights in Sydney.  Getting us all there was not without complications, as we discovered that Harriet didn't have the right stamp in her passport to allow her in and out of New Zealand, despite having been born here.  Getting back into the country was not straightforward either, as it transpired that my efforts to abide by New Zealand's strict bio-security laws had been sabotaged by my nearest and dearest.  Yep, Dave had slipped an apple into my bag at Sydney airport.  There it lay, unnoticed, until, with the arrivals hall at Auckland airport almost within touching distance, our bags go through the scanners and lights start flashing, hooters sound, burly men descend from the ceiling with grappling hooks and slavering fruit beagles knock us to the floor and sit on our chests.  'WHOSE IS THIS BAG?' demands one of the burly men and there on the counter, next to my bag, is one single apple.  People have been deported for less…

What did I do?  Well, I toyed with the idea of poking Harriet until she started crying in the hope they might process my misdemeanour more promptly, but in the end I did the decent thing and BLAMED THE CHILDREN.  Yes, one of the children had put the apple in my bag without my knowledge.  Then we had to sit for about twenty minutes while someone typed one-fingered a letter :

'Dear Hannah Louise' it starts, all chummy and nice but it quickly moves on to referring to fines, imprisonment and more severe consequences for repeated offenses.  I'm on a blacklist somewhere, I'm sure, and next time I travel the burly men will be all over my luggage before I can say 'fruit fly'.

At least the taxi driver was still waiting for us.

As for what we did in Sydney, another blog post on that will be coming soon.