martinlittle.com:thinkThin

Flicking back over my last visits to the States, I was still at a loss to find any trouble I'd been in (well, trouble that would get reported, anyway ;-), so even as I entered secondary, I was confident I'd be in and out quickly. Of course, these guys don't so quickly, I thought, as I gave them my documents and was brusquely told to take a seat. The room could not have been better set up by a casting director: there were some Africans, a Japanese couple, a Chinese mother with three kids, several Indians of various religions and a Mexican family. Clearly the position of 'European white man' needed filled, so that was why they'd called me in!

Just then my phone rang. My colleague, who had sailed through, was checking to see how long I'd be. I was almost sent straight back to the UK there and then. Three guys yelled at me "no phones, no phones, turn it off RIGHT NOW". They were not amused. There were no signs saying no phones, but it didn't seem like my place to point out that error to them.

I'm guessing it isn't one of the greatest jobs, and you do sometimes have to deal with some of the less enjoyable cases, but those guys in the room were taking no chances with anyone. The Japanese couple were eventually given a three month visa, even though longer was clearly required, as the letters from the US government department said (we were all given a chance to participate in each 'case' as a kind of silent jury, thanks to the open plan office).

When my name was called, I marched up expecting a "woops, our mistake, welcome to the country". But again I got the silent-screen-stare for a bit, before being asked why I was there, who I worked for, how long I'd be staying ... and then everything was stamped. My limited interrogation skills were useless in getting any information on why I'd actually been stopped...

After that, I got my bag and was heading through to meet my colleague when I was asked to "go over to belt 9". Hmmm, the one opposite from where all the other passengers are going, with lots of officials? Yep, that one. Same questions once again: why was I there, how long for, who did I work for, could I prove it (the guy kept a business card!), why did I have no cash on me (uh, like, credit cards, dude), why did I have such little luggage with me (I had a 29kg(!) suitcase, and a laptop backpack). Then I had to open my suitcase. Imagine how much stuff was in there! The guys had a good rake through and obviously found nothing in there size or style, so told me to pack up and move on. Again, no reason was forthcoming ("it's our job, that's all". Yeah, RIGHT!)

When I finally got to the car hire place, any nerves I might have had about driving were long gone; in fact, I fully expected the car hire to turn me down due to the colour of my hair or something equally ridiculous. Car got quickly sorted though, and I went down and hopped in, keen to miss the rushour traffic on I101 en route to my hotel.

The drive to the office was scenic. ;-) After getting on to the 101, I missed the south turnoff, and ended up heading north to San Francisco. Thankfully some kind soul had already thought I might do this, and knocked up a handy turnoff that took me straight on to the 101 south (Californians don't seem to like on-off junctions like back home, for some reason).

My reservation was only confirmed after I'd left the office, so I had nothing printed, but safely stored on my laptop. Woops, that just ran out of battery. After a quick bit of busking around and inability to use the GPS (it knows this hotel as something different to the name it actually uses), I made it here. Seems like a nice place. Now I'm off for a quick drive to the office to check where it is, and then food. It's been a long and busy day!