land of the duty free

I am in Michigan :)

Which, obviously, means that everything is go :)

Considerably more hassle by customs and immigration, this time, largely to due to my dad.

We decided, on the vast body of advice, not to tell customs I was getting married, but to say I was visiting my girlfriend, and my dad was coming to meet her and the family.

So, we met up the day before at a hotel at Hatton Cross, so we could get a decent night's sleep before flying. Not his fault, but it's at this point, he mentions that he's got in his luggage ABOUT TEN CARDS FROM FAMILY WISHING US A HAPPY WEDDING and, additionally, a BOXED WEDDING RING FROM MY MOM AS A GIFT FOR KIRSTEN.

You know, just in case we get our bags searched and want to COMPLETELY BLOW OUR STORY.

We decide to post the cards back home and explain the ring (if caught out) that I was intending to propose. Sure, I'm overly paranoid and overly prepared, but if we get sent home, that's a wedding and several thousand dollars that we lose.

At duty free in Heathrow, my dad buys FIVE CARTONS OF CIGARETTES and TWO LITRES OF RUM.

"I always buy 1000, i've never been stopped! Aren't you going to buy anything?"

"No. As you might have seen, my entire drive here, has been to travel in such a way that the nice people at customs have absolutely no reason to look at me for a second longer than every other person flying today. I don't need to save a tenner on duty free."

Dad's haul comes in handy, dandy see-through bags. So we get past immigration with minimal fuss and only slightly more extra questioning, then once we get our bags, we're randomly stopped and checked by some free-floating customs guys near the baggage claim area (and made to go through the whole set of questions again) then at baggage-recheck, the guy notices the HUGE BAGS FULL OF CIGS AND BOOZE on our trolley.

We are sent round to some nice chaps (they actually were friendly) who go through all the questions AGAIN, and at this point, inform my dad that you're allowed one carton per person, though because I smoke, they'll let me take one of his cartons, but he still owes them $30. He pays, no problem. All the customs guys after the 1st one are friendly and smiling, and my dad is very bold and confident, he makes jokes with everyone, has folks laughing and putting them at ease. It gets a little bit "oh godddd" after a while, but it does ease the encounters a bit.

My dad, in his explanation of what we're doing in the US for this trip, unnecessarily says that he's "met Kirsten before on the internet" (in the context of "but want to meet her in person"). IMMEDIATE RAISING OF EYEBROWS. "So, has your SON met her?" "Yes, yes, I have, lots of times, in person. Yes." Augh.

So, 15 minutes later (with Kirsten waiting outside, having kittens about when we're going to show up), we finally get out and leave the airport. And because of the fine, the ciggies didn't save him any more money than if he just bought them normally in the US.

Anyways, net result, we're here. We picked up dad's hire car and dad followed us to Grand Rapids.

During this time, I realised i'd lost my phone. I panicked, we stopped the cars, I ran about like a headless chicken (I loves mah phone) and dad eventually found it under one of the seats. Guh.

About five minutes later, we're back on the interstate, and he notices that Kirsten's bumper was about to fall off. He signals us to stop and ties it back on with some cord.

So, a balanced day with my dad, who is currently doing the Lamb Family Thing and starting the day with vodka, it seems. Hooboy.