A queue miscued

Exiting the transit bus from airliner to terminal, I headed down the temporary corridors (Bangkok’s “new” Airport is in perpetual construction), and turned in the direction of the blue arrow towards immigration (I’m sure the cabin staff had said to follow the blue if having nothing to declare… hey, it has been a midnight flight and the brain is struggling a bit.

Then I was overrun by the Mumbai mob, simultaneously exiting from an Air India flight. Hundreds of them. Always smiling, always polite, always in a hurry, always pushing in front of you.

Almost an exhausting hour later after queuing, realising I needed to go fill out a tourist visa form and requeuing, then realising I needed to pay for a mugshot pic for the said visa form and then re-requeuing to have the pic taken, the photographer/immigration officer glanced at my passport, shook her head and waved me back towards the original entrance, saying, in a friendly manner, something about “go left”.

I wearily turned back, and there were two options: VIP Officials Express entrance and laughing, further back, a red arrow entrance. Stupid me! Off course, Aussie passport = VIP.

So I ducked in there, where it was empty but for three heavily armed immigration officers in super tight uniforms, who looked happy to see anyone; I was processed, stamped and through into the Kingdom of Thailand in a jiffy. Now, this is more like it.

I know I’m gonna love Bangkok!

Pic: Khaosan Road at night.

Khaosan Road at night

Khaosan Road at night

2 thoughts on “A queue miscued

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