As I am sure has happened to many of you recently, I was stopped at an ISF checkpoint manned by Aussie soldiers the other evening in Aria Branca.
Upon being requested to show some ID, I handed over my British passport (don’t leave home without one). The digger checked it out, looked me over and then said “you got anything better than this mate?” Bloody cheek! It’s red, official looking with the words ‘United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland’ printed in gold and an imposing emblem of two lions rampant and the royal coat of bloody arms. And it wasn’t bloody good enough ID for this digger.
Then, to make it worse, the bloke sitting next to me showed his AUSTRALIAN TV news credit card and the digger glanced at it, said “that’ll do nicely, drive on” and walked away.
Well, it’s the thin end of the wedge when a passport issued by Her Britannic Majesty’s Government is not as valid as a bit of plastic issued by some geezer in an office in Sydney. I think the cobbers should remember which country so kindly and generously gave their ancestors free passage to the ‘lucky country’ all those years ago. Bloody ingrates.
I’d complain to my MP, if I knew who he was. Or my Ambassador, if I had one. Or the President, if I knew who he was.