I thought I saw Chuck Norris at the airport once
if that counts.
(busterbeckett BUSTER BECKETT - saved by the buoyancy of citrus, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 17:58, Reply)

Airport story
Had to pick up my parents, brother and wife at Heathrow once. They'd been to Malaysia. They would be in arrivals around 9am.

Overslept to 8.30am with a 2-hour drive ahead of me. Twas the days before mobiles so they just waited. Got to Heathrow and realised it was quite a big place - er... with more than one place for people to arrive in. Parked at terminal one and proceeded to run around the terminals until I found them. For the record, Terminal 3. And that's a long run. It was now 11.30am. Nobody looked happy.

Returned to the car with them, trying to smooth things over. No keys. Lost them running between terminals. Returned to terminal three to check lost property. No joy.

Remembered I had a hidden key in a magnetic box tucked under the wheel arch (do people still use those?). Phew! Got going and then realised no petrol and it was a different key to open the cap. So had to gingerly drive to my brother's who then had to follow us home to ensure we didn't run out of petrol.

Got home and thought the nightmare was over. No such luck. Nobody had a front door key and the back door had a key in the other side. Spent the next hour intricately turning the key in the other side of the back door in order to poke it out.

To this day, I remember looking at kitchen clock as we walked through the back door. 4.47.

I didn't ask for any holiday presents.
(hander, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 17:47, Reply)

My dad
Went to three conferences last year. The first two were in Paris. The nice luggage people decided his suitcase wanted to visit Oslo instead.

The third one was in fact in Oslo. And where did the luggage go?

Yep, Boston.
(Cuddles It's not rape if they're already dead, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 17:43, Reply)

on a flight to somewhuere
I was 18. Sat down in my seat, and the monitor above me said "18 hour flight" "Shit", I thought, what the fuck am I going to do over 18 hours?

After an hour of twiddling my thumbs I managed like a cunt to fall asleep for 17 hours.

I know the story is a bit shit but its all I've got, sorry.
(getdown is not spanish, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 17:08, Reply)

Canadian Customs
Went over to Vancouver to work for a month since someone at our company needed a heart operation. Got to VA airport and wasn't looking forward to dealing with the customs (since they have questionable senses of humour).

Hello sir where are you flying from?
England
And why are you here sir?
To work
*raises eyebrow* I see...may i see your permit sir
Muh?
Your coming to work sir?
Well yeah...
So wheres your permit?
Ummmmm.... O_o
What company do you work for?..

Anyway the tooing and froing went on a while and eventually we established I actually DO need one but my company just hadn't TOLD me or supplied me with one...

Anyway all went well then i saw a BIG ARSE red X drawn on my form. I knew then things were NOT going so well. Didnt look like i was going to be let off so easily.

Proceed to immigration point C sir.

I end up standing in a line with a couple of other guys...both english...and some freaky hispanic person saying he had come to work and had no permit.

The thing which stood me aside from this guy was the fact I had a solid company whos head office was here, i had a stamp from the LAST time i came to work in Canada and had business cards and stuff.

This guy had well...nothing...he had come LOOKING for work...with no address or permit.

He got let go in 15 mins. I had to stand and convince the immigration for 1 hour. One freaking hour of talking after a 12 hour flight and total 24 hours awake of travelling.

Suffice to say i got my permit and my company paid.

Fun..

Don't mess with Canadian immigration unless you want endless beaucracy in return.
(Hoppkins, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 17:01, Reply)

Going to America
Well, many years ago, when I was a mere lad of 21, I got sent to America to a conference (Tri-Ada '91, since you ask).

I learned several interesting lessons as I flew in. First, leaving London at Heathrow, all were sweetness and light. But I had to stop over and change planes in Chicago or somewhere. So I did. Only as I dragged my bags from one end of big airport to the other, I got lost, so I asked some guy in a uniform for directions. He gave them to me, then as an afterthought asked if I was travelling alone. I said I was. He then asked where I was going, to which I truthfully replied 'San Jose, California'. Then he asked if I was travelling for business or pleasure. Well, I was clearly enjoying myself, but I had to admit it was on business.

Well, I had no idea that being searched at gunpoint was quite so terrifying. In the end I was marched (still at gunpoint) to my destination, and put on the plane. At least I wasn't lost.

Now, any ordinary fool would have learned from this. But no, dear reader, there is literally no end to the f---wittery I'm capable of.

So, back at the airport for the return journey. I'm leaving San Jose this time. As I go to get on the plane, so far incident free, I'm asked the usual basic questions. Then comes the good stuff: "Sir, do you have a gun?"

"No, I'm British". The non-sequitur fazes the guard not at all.

"A knife?"

"No."

"Any Mace?"

"What," says I, in my best British accent, "Is Mace when it's at home?"

Well, being searched at gunpoint doesn't get any easier with practice, I can tell you!

I arrive back at Heathrow, bloody terrified. No need to worry, I'm back amongst friends. I wander nonchalantly through passport control and Customs, to be reunited with my native soil! Yaay!

Oh, and there was the time I went to the Caribbean, to visit my Mom's family... My brother and I were wearing non-pink skin (hard to change out of that one), proper shirts, and long trousers. We got mistaken for airline staff, and had our choice of hot sweaty tourists shouting at us.

Plus, there was the time my Dad discovered the joys of multiple-currency tills in Piaco Airport, Barbados. He bought some drinks, handed over a fiver, and after a bunch of beepy till noises, got a handful of local shrapnel change. He was dead excited (there, there, Dad) until I observed, using the full power of 17-year-old smugness, that it was a load of bannocks. I went back, ordered the drinks, and handed over a pound. The barman looked suspiciously at me, so I chucked in another 20p. And got the drinks. And change. And a nasty glare off my Dad.

It was worth it?

I'd add a size joke, but you've had it three times already.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 16:44, Reply)

I always get stopped at airport security
just for the sheer volume of electronics I carry, I always get lumped with all my other halfs stuff so he sails through while I get stopped. Last time we flew I had 2 mobiles, 2 PDAs, 2 digital cameras, 2 gameboys, 2 ipods and a bag od pound coins in a handbag that wasn't really that big.
I put it in the tray to go through the x-ray machine without thinking and withing seconds I was being asked to empty the entire lot out infront of everyone, it was even taken and tested for drugs.
I wouldn't have minded but I was treated like such a criminal and we were only flying from London to Scotland.
( flurokitty 3, 2, 1 lets jam! (+.[___]·:·), Fri 3 Mar 2006, 16:34, Reply)

Ignore what they tell you, airport security sucks
Me and a couple of mates, at Birmingham airport, waiting for a plane to take us to Australia. We get bored sitting in the departure lounge and went and got a burger king to tide us over before we started getting airline food shoved in our direction.

Having finished said burger king, one of my mates decided it would be funny to inflate the paper bag it came in and pop it. We realised what he was doing just in time to shout "what are you doing, you stupid fucker!". BANG. One woman nearby screamed and dropped her bags. Others looked round panicked. I was convinced we were going to get dragged off for a stern talking-to about causing panic in post-9/11 airports. But no. Despite seriously unhinging several people, we never even saw a security bloke.

I don't apologise for length, I feel the girth makes up for it.
( Noit happy baby orangutan, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 16:12, Reply)

While Working ...
at Heathrow, airside, removing the reduntant watchman radar, we saw concord(e) take off twice a day for a week, while we were 100 feet up a tower, and no more than 250 feet from the runway itself.

Absolutely phenomenal. It's the most satisfying noise I've ever heard in my life.

Also, while working in Holland, I've been through Schipol airport security a few times with my skater style jeans nearly round my knees after they asked me to remove my belt. Mmmm, Dignified.
(bouncybadders http://file-city.co.uk - Image & file storage, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 16:08, Reply)

Jolly cheerful immigration official
I feel a little cheated, as I've never had a bad airport experience.

At JFK starting a weeks honeymoon we'd timed the flights to arrive late local time and get some kip to reset the body clock. Similarly, we were leaving early local time to have a long day on the flight back and do the same. Having done it a few times it seems to work.

Anyhoo, the emmigration chappy was one of the biggest guys I've ever seen. At least 6' 8" and built like a brick outhouse. Not in stereotypically american lardarse sense, but just 20 stone of bulging muscle.

"Purpose of Visit?"

"Holiday, well, honeymoon actually"

"Congratulations sir, but why New York?"

"I like shoe shops"

"OK, works for me. How long will you be staying?"

"Seven days, but eight nights" (I was worried that I might be thrown out on the stroke of midnight on the last day, I get very nervous around authority)

"AAAAAALLLLL RIIIIGHT!!! EIGHT NIGHTS MAN!!!"

The rest of the lounge is then treated to the impressive sight of this collosus standing up and miming shagging someone bent over his desk, while also spanking her ass and whooping and hollering as if his life depended on it.

Needless to say I laughed so hard stuff came out of my nose. It took at least half a dozen attempts to take my picture with the little digicam thingy because I couldn't keep a straight face.
(Throbbe, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 16:07, Reply)

Back a few years
The Falklands used to be seen as a nightmare posting by the military types. Now not so much as there's plenty of far worse places they could get sent to.
Just setting the scene, in any of the many bars there'd be one or two women and about a hundred blokes. Female personnel liked getting posted to MPA cos they KNEW they'd get sex.
Now for the real bit. Coming back from MPA to Brize Norton on the Tristar a loadie with only 3 days left in the RAF got on the tannoy.
and made the following announcement:
"Ladies and Gentlemen, On behalf of the captain and crew thank you for flying RAF Tristar today. We will soon be arriving at RAF Brize Norton. Please keep your seatbelts on until the aircraft has come to a complete stop.
Oh, and ladies, you are now all officially ugly again."
Genius
Length, girth? Dunno, but the guy had balls.
( stuj (^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!(^(^;;^)^), Fri 3 Mar 2006, 16:06, Reply)

NOT pining for the fjords
The police at Oslo airport are fascist wankers. When I had to change flights there, the fuckers at customs *set their drug dog after me*, as in, URGING IT to go after me, as if it had sniffed something--I don't even smoke pot or anything, all my trousers could've smelled of was cat. But no. I had a long leather coat so obviously this meant I was An Evil Church-Burning Devil-worshipping Druggie. I was in a terrible rush anyway just to get to my connecting flight, but the fuckers strip-searched me and my hand luggage TWICE (once in customs and twice at security), as if once wasn't enough. The whole fucking flight was delayed because the wankers just wouldn't believe I wasn't carrying anything.

So, my advice is, never, ever take a flight where you have to change at Oslo. The Norwegian police are militant tossers.
(Auntie Dalek molester extraordinaire, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 16:06, Reply)

went to NYC last november
oddly on a date ... turned up at newark airport on my own (she was from the US so was travelling internally) and i was pulled over by homeland security ... i think mainly they were peeved because

1. i was a bloke travelling alone to NYC "for fun for a long weekend" (suspicious)
2. i had "dodgy stamps" in my passport (moldova and turkey which were both 'away' trips to footy matches)
3. i gleefully "admitted" that i was a freelance writer although i wasn't doing any work there (need a special journo visa in that case)

the guy was clearly unhappy that someone would have travelled to moldova to see a "soccer game", or indeed turkey, and even started asking me things like "where's your bag?" "er, on the luggage carousel i would imagine" "what kind of bag is it?" "eh?" "what kind of bag sir?" "it's a rucksack" "what's a rucksack?" "oh FFS"

"why haven't you put the name of your hotel on the immigration form?"
"it didn't ask for the name, just the address, and anyway there's no room for both" etc etc

around and around we went for 20-30 minutes but it seemed faaaaar longer

given that the green immigration form you fill in on the plane waives all right of appeal against the decision of immigration officer (read the small print) this bloke was effectively empowered to kick me out of the country with "deported" stamped on my passport if he didn't like the colour of my socks so i was pretty scared ... then the bastard said "uh, you seem very nervous sir"

they even took my business card off me with home phone number, address etc etc and weirdly when i talk to date on phone occasionally (in US still) there's weird clicking on the line EVERY FUCKING TIME

worst ever
( writerblock ... embedding disabled by request on, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 16:05, Reply)

Odd, neh?
Not an airPORT problem, necessarily... but hell. Our flight got displaced somewhere over Boston because of in-flight medical problems, so we had to troop through another shitty, filthy airport to get on ANOTHER connecting flight, at about 10:30 PM.

A Girl Scouts bookmark (Metal, arrow-shaped, cheap) WILL set off the machine.
So do body piercings.
::sigh::
(Cyndia has shuriken in her pompoms, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 16:04, Reply)

In a pickle....
Me and 6 mates going on holiday to Malta back in the late Eighties. At Gatwick Airport on the shuttle going over to airside having just checked in.

We are all in high spirits and discussing the previous nights TV, in particular an episode of "Alas Smith & Jones". I commented to my friends how funny i thought it was, especially the sketch about Richard Bransons latest record attempt "to go 24 hours without publicity". Thus ensued a rather long spiel from myself about how much of a c**t Branson is (as an ex virgin employee i can vouch for this).

Mid-diatribe i notice my friends all look a little concerned at the goings on behind me. I turned round and stood RIGHT behind me is Mr.Branson himself, along with his wife and 2 kids who were on the floor laughing.
In a futile attempt to keep my cool i made a rather unfunny comment about not liking his jars of pickle and made a swift exit...happy days :-)


ps - first post for me!
(wheeze, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:59, Reply)

Stoopid
Not really an airport story as such but I did arrive in Spain to discover I'd taken my bag through customs with a little white pill with a letter 'e' embossed on it. It was nothing unsavoury (an antibiotic) but I thought it would be wise to get rid of it. I tried to dissolve the little bugger but it just sat there. Thankfully I don't think they ever cleaned the rooms.

So if you need to sneak ecstasy into Spain simply put it in your hand luggage!
(Bunnygirl, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:56, Reply)

I pulled
Pat Sharpe.

It wasn't at an airport though.
(hottwist, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:52, Reply)

bleep...
after a 7 hour flight from gatwick to Atlanta, and a 2 hour flight to Orlando,i was feeling extremely rough and tired,and just wanted to get to the hotel. As we passed through an empty security check point (it was late at night), the guard decided me passing through the machine was the best time to check it worked, and promptly kicked it. I knew I had nothing metal on my body, and after about 4 minutes of "wanding" me, he decided that "it must have gone off because of your zipper on your jacket". wanker.
(rainmaker is 98% lurker., Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:52, Reply)

Hilarious German Customs Agents
I was flying back from Frankfurt to the UK after a business trip. For some reason, German customs check your passport when you leave country, unlike the UK where check-in staff do that. Anyway, used to this procedure, I handed over my passport and answered the big customs chappie's questions in my piss-poor German:

Customs Chappie, looking at my passport, notices my surname and asked "Is this pronounced Murdock or Murdotch?" (my name is actually Murdoch).

I answered "Murdock".

He called over several of his colleagues to look at it and I thought "Oh crap, someone with my name is an international terrorist".

I was quite relieved when they all burst out laughing heartily saying "Ha Ha! Like the A-Team! Ha Ha Ha!".
(andymurd, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:46, Reply)

Condoms
and their foil wrappers make the metal detectors go loopy.

You can make the rest up yourselves.
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:40, Reply)

Sorry.. another one
Not me but my dad who unfortunately has lost the fingers on his right hand (god knows where he left them) confused customs at Houston airport when asked to place his right forefinger on an electronic pad. No shit it took them about ten minutes to work out to use his left hand instead!
(simpson, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:34, Reply)

I told them not to.......
I used to travel a lot with an early music group. The combination of Enzo (who is italian but looks more arabic) and a variety of unusually shaped musical instruments ensured that we always got stopped.
One one occaision I had a bottle of red wine in with my luggage in a holdall and the bottle had got smashed, leaving the bag full of broken glass and very soggy clothes.
I told them they didn't want to put their hands in there, but did they listen?
(misspiggy In danger of having to get a job, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:32, Reply)

bang cock
Flight back from Bangkok to Heathrow was over booked, so they offered us £100 (never spent £100 so quickly on duty free!) each and first class all the way to Kuala Lumpur, 5 hour wait in the executive lounge then first class to Heathrow. Sitting in said lounge feet up, scruffy shorts, flip flops at about 2.00am when Leicester Blackburn FA cup game comes on live. Cue me sitting getting hammered on free lager watching football surrounded by foreign business men, no wonder the rest of the world thinks all the English are football hooligans! (not a leicester or Blackburn fan, but novelty of watching live English FA cup football whilst about 3 thousand miles away kept me interested!)
(simpson, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:31, Reply)

NY officials
New York - JFK Airport. Waiting in line to get through the customs (where they fingerprint you, take your photo, and make you sign away your first born just so you can stay there for 3 months). There was a yellow line on the floor with a sign saying 'dont step over this until its your turn'. Fair enough. Of course, there was a family in front of me with a 5 year old boy who kept running around and being a bit unruly. Cue the enormous, donut laden gun toting power freak (who was clearly stupider than a great big bag of stupidity) running over, and yelling at the little boy 'step BEHIND the yellow LINE, SIR!!!!!'

utter knobjockey.
(something clever about willies and sex wee, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:28, Reply)

When I were a teenager pineapple...
...I had fairly long, straight hair. And let's not beat about the bush, people had a hard time determining if I was male or female. So I've got this picture on my 10 year passport. I'm at the airport recently and the passport security guy says to me "Is this you, or your kid sister?" Cunt. Still haven't changed the picture though.
( mrlogic is copying your beard, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:21, Reply)

...
Pat Sharpe once left Majorca on the same flight as me.
( gone, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:20, Reply)

Pat Sharp
i spotted Pat Sharp on his way into Majorca, standing on those automated corridor thingys. We were just leaving, so he was travelling in the opposite direction, very slowly. I proceeded to chant.

"FUN HOUSE, WHEEEEY GO ON PAT, WHERE ARE THE TWINS? WHEEEEY" etc etc.

I've never seen such panic and acceleration from a Z-lister before
(Carling, pint of, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:16, Reply)

Customs
A (very stupid) friend on mine called Ken was going to Turkey for a holiday. Just before he got off the plane, he realised that he had a wrap of 'Bolivian marching powder' in his pocket.

He devised a foolproof plan to get through customs. He tucked the offending wrap deeply between the pages of a magazine he was carrying. Who'd look there?

He got to customs and, inevitably, was stopped. While one gun-toting officer was going through his bag, much to Ken's horror, the other one stood next to him took the magazine off him, and started casually leafing through it, page by page. Ken stood there in a cold sweat, as one customs guy slowly and meticulously went through his bag, while the other got closer and closer to the offending page, and thus the beginning of his starring role in 'Midnight Express 2 - Bumrape Bonanza'.

He reckons that the officer was about 3 pages away when his bag and the magazine were returned to him, and he was told to go on his way.
(8-Ball, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 15:06, Reply)

Nice photo isn't it?
Coming back from Amsterdam, me and my girlfriend rat arsed on a litre of Southern Comfort (on top of the vodka and weed), I passed my passport to the man at the counter. "Nice photo isn't it" I said, as he studied me carefully. He grunted. "Should be" I said, "I paid enough for it!"

Several hours later they let us go.
(enile_snirkette, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 14:42, Reply)

We'll need your souls..
A few months ago a friend and I had to travel across the country from Florida to Minnesota. We got our tickets printed with no problems, and went to check our baggage. Everything went fine, except they seemed to be a bit too enthusiastic about making sure that they checked each and every item in my luggage. No problems there. Then the security guard points to a little code that had been highlighted on our tickets, and the following conversation ensued. At least he had a sense of humor.

"Sorry to inform you, but you've been 'selected'."

"Selected?"

"Yes. You see, in order to keep the planes from crashing, we need a sacrifice or two every few days. You've both been selected for sacrifice. Once you get upstairs, they're going to take your souls, but it cause you to miss your flight."

What he meant was that we both got to be strip searched, which has happened to me on every subsequent flight. Joy.
(Fodqou, Fri 3 Mar 2006, 14:37, Reply)