When I finally got my suitcase I got into the line for customs (*), and observed my first bust. I don't know if it was the same little beagle I've seen before or if they have a family of them. The dog had identified a suspect. The agent on the other end of the leash was confiscating ...
Bananas. This was a fruit-sniffing dog.
(*) I dutifully filled out the card on the plane, but you use kiosk questionnaires now and give the customs agent the receipt.
1 comment:
I remember the questions about whether we had brought any food products, and I wondered whether than meant the cheese in the Oslo airport. They also asked about whether we had been on a farm. Well, sorta. But not really.
I'm not sure what they mean, so I say no.
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