I was always one of the first to explore something which was considered as one which no one knew about. So I was always the bellwether.
This probably came from my time as a hippie bus driver who knew everything and whom you could ask about anything - and so I even knew almost everything.
Here in Nepal, I had to settle some things and then had to go back home!
I received two figurines from Monto in Delhi. Monto said that they were Ram and Sita, some gods from the Hindu religion and were especially valuable, since the figures were made of an alloy with a very high proportion of gold. Even the eyes were real emeralds and the earrings of Sita were genuine rubies. Well, you could no believe Monto about anything anyway. For him it was important that he believed it.
But the two figurines that were 30 cm high and each almost 8 kg placed on the scale, I could not take on the plane.
Therefore, I gave them to a Danish couple known to me, who drove their VW back home. Somehow I had to pick up these figures from them in Denmark. For the size of the figures, they were very heavy, so this came with the gold-copper-brass alloy already.
A gentleman from the Embassy, who “dealt” with antic things, assured me that these figurines were very valuable. But he also believed that these statuettes had been stolen from a temple. But I could not do anything anymore and also Monto said that he could not go to a temple to hand them over there. So they were now in Denmark. The day arrived when I could say goodbye to the foot tappers and also to Nepal. Some Danes had already left, among others, my friend Erling with his wife. There was probably a big "Ex-Nepal Residents Meeting” announced in Denmark for Christmas. At the last minute, a friend of the couple came and brought me a book that Erling had forgotten.
It was a Christmas present for his father.
Since I flew to Denmark, I was requested to be kind enough to take this book for him. Of course, no question of refusing!
I packed the book in my suitcase and was ready to leave. Nobody knew that for my Australian dollars I had hash oil for sale in Denmark with me.
I now had a filling of Hash oil in a bottle of Dry Sack, in which there was normally Sherry of the finest sort.
You could not see any difference, only if you found out about the stuff that the contents did not gurgle. I had spun my own yarn and made this deal with another Dane.
After much back and forth as to whether I should do this or not, my pig-dog won and I committed myself to the business.
But that should really be the last time that I would do that, I vowed to myself.
My flight was with Air France to Paris and after a switchover, there was a short connecting flight to Copenhagen.
I had my bottle "Dry Sack" in my hand luggage and they did not attract any attention. I did not look like a flipped out hippie or junkie and was traveling with a suitcase, which was always better than with backpack. An announcement was made in the flight that we would have to make an unexpected landing in Tel Aviv, in Israel. We were told to take all hand luggage to the transit area. I had expected a direct flight.
I did not like this landing in Israel because I knew they would closely examine the luggage here. I calmed down because we were indeed in the transit and thus a control was not necessary, I thought. So I took my small travel bag and the plastic bag with the sherry and joined in the line in the crowd of the disembarking passengers. To my horror, I saw that the passengers were frisked from our aircraft.
I had not yet seen that in a transit area.
I watched as the customs officer examined everything very closely.
Even the pens and lighters were unscrewed.
The officer took her job very seriously!
The nice lady customs officer in Tel-Aviv
Now my turn came.
The officer took my passport, which showed only the Nepalese immigration and also the exit stamp. She wanted to check my old passport, because she saw that the new one had been issued recently in Canberra.
I could explain to her convincingly that the old, full passport had been withheld by the Embassy.
She looked at me in silence and gave me back the passport. Now the small travel bag and my plastic bag with the bottle in it were subjected to inspection.
She eyed the gray bag, took out the bottle and examined the bottle cap, which was not damaged. The Nepalis had done a good job by heating and removing the carefully and had placed it again later after filling and sealing it properly.
The customs officer looked at me very long.
She was not quite sure if she should give me trouble or let me go as a poor bastard.
She asked me regarding my final destination and I told her that my home was in Frankfurt. She gave me back the sherry bottle. But she gave it back me in such a way that the bottom pointed to the up and I could see that the liquid did not flow back up into the neck of the bottle. I quickly put the bottle in the jute sack and saw the official in the eyes, who gave me to understand that I should go before she changed her mind.
I think she was a sadist. She had just detected that I had noticed it that she knew what was in the bottle.
Not that she permitted me leave immediately.
She took her time and now asked if I was married, how many children I had and with what kind of activities I normally earned my livelihood.
My voice almost failed me as I replied that I ran a small travel agency in Frankfurt, which is why I was in Australia and I had bought some trekking information on the way back in Nepal.
My hands were shaking, I was aware that this official could pin me down at any time!
Now I knew how a mouse felt when it was targeted by a cobra. At any moment uniformed personnel could turn up and take me with them.
My Cobra did not flicker but I saw a blink certain of triumph in her eyes. I felt the lethal rays that came down on me. At that moment I wanted to be a mongoose and bite the snake in the head.
Finally she let me go and wished me a pleasant flight. I was exhausted. That was a thrill I had never experienced before! Why did this customs officer play such a game? She would have just needed to give a sign and it would have been over for me. But then they would have led me away and I would have been finished. But in this manner, she could slobber over my fear. I'm sure that she had made a guess.
It seemed to me as if it had taken hours but it had been only some minutes, in which I had almost been shitting in the pants.
Maybe this is was what the sadist wanted.
Man - she really had the nerve to look at me in the eye all the time at the same time.
Our flight was called and I reached my plane without being called back once again.
The food was so excellent that I forgot the matter with the customs officer. Now I was even very happy that she had her little game and I my freedom. But the next surprise came in Paris because my suitcase was not there and not to be found anywhere! There were three of us, who had the bad luck that our bags were not there. The other two were French, with destination to Paris. But I had to fly further. The person responsible promised me that my suitcase would be found in less than 48 hours. I was told to provide my home address and they would send the suitcase there. I gave the men the address and looked for a small guest-house.
I got the idea that I could fly with the bottle to Copenhagen.
My little small suitcase, which I had as hand luggage, was enough for me and so I flew the next day to Copenhagen to my friends and the people who wanted to have my bottle.
From Paris to Copenhagen, there were almost no checking.
In the hotel I phoned the buyers to get rid of the bottle. It was even more important that I got my money.
Then I could fly directly to Frankfurt and see my family. Of course, I also met Erling and my other friends from Katmandu.
There was plenty of Øl and Smørrebrød – beer and sandwiches.
The food in Denmark was just a delight.
But it was Erling, who asked for his book and he was sorry that the suitcase was lost.
I also did not get the money for my bottle.
The young man made me realize that it could take up to two weeks before he could get the money together. I had no choice but to fly home and come back in two weeks, then of course with Erling’s book.
So we did that, I would come back again a week before Christmas.
I flew to Frankfurt and took the train to my parents. There was great joy, the surprise had turned out well. The joy quickly vanished when I saw the state of my father's illness. These many years as a German prisoner of war in a Siberian silver mine had left back its traces. Father had just been retired and now he was ill and could not enjoy his days as a pensioner.
Such a thing could not happen to me at all since I would not reach the retirement age at all any way due to my way of life.
Father had always said this to me. I should put aside something for retirement, paying into the pension fund. But what did he have from it now? Nothing!
I could at least look back on an eventful life. What had he really experienced or seen except his war experiences?
I could tell my grandchildren stories later when I would reach that age, which I strongly doubted.
Mother answered by saying that it was quite natural for me that my suitcase arrived first and I arrived a week later. Elsewhere, it was the case that the traveler came first and later the suitcase.
I explained to Mother why I arrived later than my suitcase. At the same time, I mentioned that I would take off once again for a few days to Denmark very shortly.
Only after several promises that I would be back before Christmas, I was allowed to travel to Copenhagen.
My suitcase had been searched and provided with a customs seal once again that Customs had no objections.
What would the customs department find at all? The suitcase was clean. Not even a forgotten crumb could have been found. My trip to Copenhagen now had precedence because Erling gave me the message from the couple who had arrived, who had my two figures, during our last telephone conversation.
A friend also had asked for me, since he had something for me. So my two figures, Sita and Ram, as well as the sales money of th bottle waited for me.
All this sounded very good to me.
I could enjoy Christmas this year!
I would buy gifts in Copenhagen for the whole family. But I could not celebrate my younger daughter's birthday since I was two days late. She had birthday on December 6th, on St. Nicholas Day, birthday and I arrived only on 8th. But Christmas had to be celebrated quite grandly.
I would put in a whole turkey in the oven and prepare the Christmas dinner myself. I wanted to show my people that I could still cook.
I would prepare the turkey like how the Americans or the big hotels would do, with a farce of bread crumbs, chestnuts, raisins as well as Brussels Sprouts, red cabbage and mashed potatoes. I would prepare a tasty Giblet Sauce and I would prepare and a Baba au Rum - a Hefenapfkuchen (yeast Bundt cake) soaked with plenty of rum for dessert. My mouth watered already at the thought.
As a starter, I could bring a Gravedlax from Denmark. My family should have a Merry Christmas! And after Christmas I would get myself a steady job - I should get used to the word ‘work’ - and look for a permanent job.
That’s right, I would no longer be roaming around in the world. I belonged to my children! I would also look for a nice woman, she had to be a girlfriend for the daughters and a wife to me. So I packed a few things for up to one week and bought a train ticket to Copenhagen. I wanted to fly back. Since I did not have any prohibited things this time, I felt very relaxed. I had booked the night express with sleeping facilities, which meant with couchette. As the train was not fully booked, I had a compartment to myself up to Marburg, after which a young Danish woman came into my compartment. We got into a conversation very quickly about travels, distant countries and of course she like my hippie bus trips very much. She worked in Copenhagen in the railway station restaurant as a waitress. My pig-dog came and sat on my shoulder and told me to hit on her and that she would not be averse to an amorous escapade.
I listened to my goblin and he was right. I did not have to try hard and we made love on the berth of sleeper compartment of the train. It was a new experience for me that a woman from the cold North did not have to be necessarily cool in bed. On the contrary, this Dane was a hot number!
I had not yet had the experience with Danish women and also could not know if all Danish women were such real hotties and if they had such a perfect body. She thought nothing of it, to sit naked in the compartment, to flirt with me and have sex.
This would never have been possible in India with Mimung.
I discarded the brief thought about Mimung and focused on this Danish woman, whose name I heard, but had forgotten. I enjoyed her sex between Hannover and Hamburg twice. Then she had enough and slept beside me.
Only when there was a knock on the closed door, we woke up. We were told that we were in Puttgarden and there was a passport and customs check, for which we were to keep ourselves ready. Very quickly I returned from the kingdom of my dreams to reality. I had barely dressed, when two German and two Danish officials in authority came in our compartment. The first question was whether we were both belonged together. My Danish woman told the officials that we got to know each other only on the train and that she was a Dane and I was a German. I was asked where I was going to and I answered truthfully that I wanted to visit friends. The German official, who had my passport in his hands, gave it to the Danish woman and nodded his head, pointing at me. The Dane snapped shut the passport and turned to me with the demand that I should pack my things and follow him into the customs building - it was not a request but a command. This made me suspicious and started to listen attentively.
What did the Danes want from me?
The customs officer told the Danish woman that she had to continue to travel alone, since my matter would take a little longer.
The crash from cloud nine
After I heard these words, I was nearly sick.
First this night journey had been on cloud nine and now this rude awakening. The memory of the last hours passed me by and I had to admit that I had been a lucky man. I had always had these nice and beautiful women! That could testify only of a good karma. The voice of the customs officer brought me back to the present situation, which was not exactly promising. He pointed to my suitcase and demanded that I opened it. Which I did.
By then, he had put on gloves and took the contents of my suitcase.
He dumped them piece by piece.
In the meanwhile, he talked to his two colleagues in Danish, which I did not understand. The German officer was no longer there.
They spoke only in Danish. If I had to answer questions, it was in English or German. The officials were not sure whether they should speak English or German to me. Because I realized that their English was better, I told them that they could go ahead and talk in English with me, I'd understand everything.
I asked them what they were looking for from me but as a response they questioned me what I was doing so much in Nepal, India, Afghanistan, Australia and the United States. I answered probably too reluctantly, that I was running a travel agency. They wanted to have my name, address, telephone number in Germany and my friends’ addresses in Denmark.
In which hotel would I be put up - questions after questions pelted on me specifically. The contents of my suitcase were now distributed across two benches. They had probably not found what they were looking for.
When I observed that, I became a little bolder and said that they had wrong guy for the interrogation.
I was told to be a little patient when the boss would come and when he too didn't find anything, I could take the next train to Copenhagen or if it was getting too hot for me, I could travel back to Germany.
He looked at me as if he would squint, with his head sunk, so from the below upwards over his glasses. As if he was quite certain that I would travel nowhere.
I had to
undress and get completely naked in the next room and stoop.
Then he looked to see if I had hidden something in the anus.
Also I had to jump with legs apart and arms above his head in the air, if perhaps something would fall out.
I knew they could not find anything on me because I didn’t have anything. Thereby I got the upper hand again and said that they could save the trouble and time and should look for criminals, rather than to torment me here like this. The officials had to have a hundred percent reason to stage such a circus with me like this. An officer held out one of my passports under my nose and wanted to know if that was mine. Of course, it was my old, invalid passport, I replied to him. Well, he said, and how many more did I have, he wanted to know. Now I knew what was at stake here.
They had found my old, full passports. There were original passports that were issued by various embassies. As always, since so many stamps and visas were recorded in them, the 32 pages of a passport were quickly full. I remembered that I had given the Danish couple, who had also taken along the Ram and Sita statues, a suitcase with cook books and books or travelogues about different countries. Among other things, my old passports that were not in use any more, which I kept as an aid for recollection and memory, were in the said suitcase. Due to the weight of the books, I had given it to the couple and had forgotten the passports.
This circumstance brought me into a very precarious situation now. They had found 12 old passports in my name with the Danes. What should an official think if they took 12 German passports in the possession of a Dane? Although all were legal, they were however full of visas from America, Australia and hashish producing countries. It was quite obvious that it became associated with smuggling.
My Dream to Be Free Page 37