Happy landings

The Happy Landing was the name of a pub in a town where I once lived, yet even though the pub sign depicted an aeroplane, I didn't really know what the words meant. To me it was just a place where we met the school bus.

But a happy landing depends upon a couple of things; firstly, obviously, landing at all and preferably breathing and in one piece. Secondly, what kind of welcome you get at the airport.

My favourite airport experiences so far are in a toss-up between India, Japan and Australia. Once at passport control in an Indian airport my mood was instantly lifted by a gaudy, fake flower in a gaudy, fake flower pot on an immigration official's desk. For anyone who hasn't been to India, locals decorate their buses, trucks, elephants, anything, and so this was fairly typical for India, but not usual for their airports - more is the pity. I have never seen it happen since then, but still hope that India makes flowers compulsory for all of its immigration officials' desks, or even better, little shrines to God complete with flashing lights.

Of course flattery is nice too. While one Indian official (a few years ago, now) complimented me upon my youthful looks, I once also enjoyed the twinkle in an Aussie official's eye. Well he wasn't being flattering, just twinkly and rather sexy, which always goes down well after a long flight.

Sadly though this is in contrast to the USA. While security is a great concern for everybody, it seems that America is turning it into an art form. Recently, the USA introduced an online visa waiver authorisation, which all people travelling under the visa waiver scheme must complete at least three days before travelling. This is in addition to the advanced passenger information one must provide to the airline, and - so I heard - is supposed to replace the green visa waiver forms passengers usually hand in on landing. Yet even though the online visa waiver authorisation asks the same security questions as the old green forms (are you a terrorist, insane, etc), the old green forms are still being used - even though, rather ironically, they mention something about paper reduction at the bottom - duplicating passenger information.

A while ago the USA also introduced fingerprinting for all people entering the country. From what I recall from previous trips, this meant having one's photo taken and index finger and thumb printed. However this clearly is not enough now and so under current procedure all fingers and both thumbs are printed. As I passed through Los Angeles immigration the other day, it left me wondering if there were any other parts of the human body that are unique and whether these will be photographed too. Maybe American airports will introduce a 'wobbly bottom' line-up or 'knobbly knees' competition. Okay, I know I am being silly. Let's be realistic. They will probably just introduce DNA swabs and be done with it.

And then there are the burning questions. In America one is asked one's profession and duration of journey at about three separate points. This cunning plan is clearly designed to trip you up, because while you might remember to lie the first couple of times and say something harmless like 'office clerk', on the third questioning you might forget and slip up, accidentally revealing that you are a spy, evil dictator, or something really malicious like a lawyer.

But I shouldn't poke fun. America's burning questions are nothing compared to when one is entering Israel. And if travelling on El Al, the interrogation begins before boarding (or at least it did a few years ago - it could have changed by now). Then one is interrogated by dark-suited officials who disappear after about twenty minutes only to be replaced by a new batch who ask the same questions, and almost convince you that even your mother could have planted a bomb in that packet of chewing gum she gave you before the flight. There are no lie detectors or bright lights in your face, but somehow it feels as though these would make an interesting effect.

Yet, seriously, the burning questions reflect the concerns of the country. Australia, which in a cheerful, characteristic way writes, 'We hope you enjoy your stay in Australia' on its visa authorisation, is obsessed with food. It's not that the Australian nation is starving - far from it, the country has some of the most amazing restaurants I have ever encountered, one of which still gives me very happy memories of a boat-shaped lemon pie with creme Anglais. Australians just don't want any of your food. 'No thank you,' they would probably say. 'We have enough food. We just don't want yours because it smells.' In my experience (so far) the Aussie airport official is friendly (occasionally sexy) and polite, but will reel off a mouthwatering menu of items that you had better not have stashed in your knickers. Bring in a ham sandwich and I suspect the cheerful persona will instantly end.....although, in retrospect, I imagine that if it was discovered that you had something like a pot of honey with you the official would probably say, 'Oh mate, I was so going to let you in but now I'm going to have to throw you in jail for a million years. That is sooo disappointing. I feel for you mate, but one drop of that honey could wipe out our entire eco-system, and interfere with our bees so much they'll be making a float for the Easter parade.'

The other burning question, of course, is how long you are staying. This is something that really should be done with tact - after all, tourists are visitors to a country; imagine how it would feel if you turned up to visit friends only to be asked 'when are you leaving?' before you had even walked through the door. Australia seems to do quite well on this one because it seems to use reverse psychology. While officials in other countries (okay, particularly the USA) may ask for how long you are staying with a tone that implies that you are not really welcome, in my experience (so far) the Aussie official is offended if you are not staying for long enough (within the confines of your visa, of course). You should have heard the tone of one who appeared quite miffed that my mother, sister and I were only visiting for 10 days. "Why only 10 days? That's not long enough," as if we had just insulted his family. He then listened to our reasons with an unconvinced expression and did not look best pleased when we said we couldn't change our tickets.

But finally, there is Japan. Japan asks these questions too, takes security procedures, and bans certain items into the country. And yet you may barely notice it all happening because it will be done in a polite, harmonious way that quite possibly promotes inner peace. Last time I visited Tokyo the little computer screens on the officials' desks had borders of pink cherry blossom with the word 'Welcome' in a white fluffy cloud. A sign with a cartoon character holding out his paw in a 'stop' gesture told all travellers what items were prohibited into the country, and before I knew it I was being helped by a very sweet and polite gentleman to open up my luggage for a harmonious inspection of my personals. But on putting my suitcase onto the counter I discovered that the lock had been broken, causing me to gasp in horror and surprise. Rather comfortingly, he was horrified and surprised too, and I think almost as sorry as I was.

All of these things, politeness, empathy, gaudy flowers, pink blossom and a 'spunky' immigration official can make a landing a happy one. So, in conclusion, I guess that is what the pub sign meant....