yay for venezuelans
Apologies for backstory but it helps set the scene a bit.

I was heading home to the UK from Venezuela after 9 months backpacking around Latin America - arriving in Caracas from Panama City I had an overnight stay before catching a flight to London the following evening. I needed to find a hotel near to the airport, but with only $30 on me I first needed to get to a cash machine. There were three at the airport. None of them accepted my card.

Feck.

It was getting late by this point and the "cabbie" who picked me up gave assurances that the hotel would accept my card. I was too tired to argue so we set off. On arriving at the hotel I had a nervous wait whilst my card took an age to be accepted by the swipe machine before it eventually went through. Down to $20 after paying the cab fare I hit the sack.

The following morning I walked into town to get some money. I tried some more banks but with no success. My flight didn't leave until 11pm, I was hungry, and there was also a worrying rumour that I would have to pay a local "departure" tax, in cash, at the check-in desk.

After haggling with a cabbie I got back to the airport in the afternoon and had a 6 hour wait for my flight in possibly one of the most boring airports in the world. I moped about for hours, trying to kill time without spending money - still nervous about the possibility of having to pay some kind of additional charge.

At around 9.30 a message flashed up on the departure board. My flight was delayed in Bogota and we wouldn't be leaving until 1am. The prospect of another 2 hours sitting around was too much to bear so I decided to go and check in anyway and see if I could get through to the departure lounge. This was when the fun really started.

On reaching the check-in desk the women examining my ticket announced that it did not include the airport tax.

"How much is that?" I asked

"$45" was the reply.

Feck. No wonder it was so cheap. All I had was $8 in cash, and a Visa card that had seen me through Central America, but was apparently not good enough for the Venezuelan banking system. I couldn't pay the fee.

I explained my predicament to the woman and she told me to check in anyway whilst they tried to come up with a solution. As I handed my bags in, the BA guy informed me that the airline would not accept responsibility for me and that I would have to come up with the cash, unless he could sweet talk customs on my behalf. He told me to sit tight whilst he went off to speak to them.

It was a good job that the flight was delayed, because he was gone for over 2 hours leaving me by check-in shitting myself and nearly in tears. I watched the last passenger head through to departure and still no sign of the BA guy.

It was around this time that a baggage handler began to take an unhealthy interest in my new Casio watch.

"How much for the watch?" he asked, fully aware of my predicament and consequent lack of bargaining power.

"No f*cking way are you getting the watch, Pedro" I thought to myself; "Maybe if things get REALLY desperate you can have my discman, but definitely not the watch".

Fortunately it didn't come to that. In a meticulously planned operation incorporating a combination of British Airways staff, customs officials, a security guard and the girl at the tax desk I was snuck through to departures when the departures supervisor went home. I got away without paying the $45 and made my flight. I was ecstatic and so grateful to the staff for bailing me out; it was incredibly kind of them and I couldn't imagine somebody doing the same at, say, Heathrow.

Venezuelans. Seriously cool people.
(mcgriffto, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 13:18, Reply)