A tiny tear meant no Bali for me

English is a strange language. Take the word ‘tears’. Did you read it as the stuff that comes out of your eyes during sad movies? Or did you read it as something that can happen to paper? Last week at my check in to a Virgin flight from Sydney to Bali, I had both tears and tears.

I’m a bit of a rules nerd so I turned up two hours and 15 minutes before check in. I was the only person in the queue and was quickly called forward. I handed over my passport and the Virgin staff member immediately began flicking pages.  Naturally, I had done the passport hygiene check – there were several blank pages for stamps and it was only due to expire in a year – so was getting ready to explain that I only had carry on and that of course I would be happy to help in return for an exit row seat.

That’s when the check in crew’s brow furrowed. Never a good sign. She then lifted my passport closer to her eyes. Next, she ran her index finger over a 2.2cm ridge above the photograph  where the paper had come away from the spine binding. Just for a scale, 2.2cm isn’t even the width of my thumbnail. Then, bracing herself to deliver the same bad news she probably has to multiple times a day but was never warned about on her job description, she uttered the words traveller wants to hear: I don’t think you will be able to travel today. 

Before I was able to get my shock to my mouth, she went over to a supervisor. She too nodded gravely at the offending document. They looked like grieving family members approving a death notice in the local newspaper.  I would not be travelling because the passport had been deemed as damaged. So damaged in fact that the Indonesian authorities would not accept it and I would be denied entry as a result. Meaning a flight straight back home. 

And this is where I really felt – in retrospect – for the Virgin crew. I say that now but in the moment I was properly huffy. I mean, it’s such a tiny fissure on the page that in the name of common sense, surely it merited a warning and something to be aware of for next time.  All the while I was trying to modulate my tone so that I didn’t end up in one of those ‘man loses it at airport’ videos. Trying to maintain my composure I tossed out words like ‘pedantic’ and ‘petty’. And when these yielded no results, I shamefully opted for emotional manipulation requesting ‘compassion’ and the plea ‘to be viewed as a person and not a document’. Gross. I know. Not proud of it.

And yes, Smartravller.gov.au was very clear on the subject had I bothered to check. Over at Virgin’s small print department, things were a little less clear. It stated “normal wear and tear should not be a problem, but more serious damage can stop you from travelling.” Which begs the question what exactly constitutes normal wear and tear. How long is a piece of string? Is Taylor better than Miley? Point is, there are some questions that simply can’t be answered.

The more I tried to argue against decision, the more team members emerged and eventually I was faced with a scarlet wall staring at me like I’d ghosted their sister after one date.  It was explained to me – by several team members in fact – that were I going practically anywhere else, the passport would be fine. It’s pretty much just an Indonesia thing and they are stricter than a parking cop with a quota to fill.

The fact, however, was that this was not Virgin’s call at all. They were merely following a directive from the Indonesian government about what the latter deem to be acceptable documentation. What’s more, apparently, if Virgin did let me pass and the Indo authorities declined me entry, the airline would have to pay for the flight. Because they hadn’t identified the passport as subpar.  Make sense? It did to me. Eventually. By which I mean several hours later, after many deep breaths and the reintroduction of logic into my brain. 

In the moment, none of this made me feel any better. But subsequently, things began to fall into place. It was as if the owner of a nightclub (the Indonesian customs service) had decided that ripped jeans were absolutely no longer allowed on the premises. Never mind the fact that every other club is cool about it within reason and that they used to have a way more flexible policy. Said nightclub owners then instructed the bouncers (Virgin) to enforce this policy at the coal face and deal with any drama it foments. What’s more, if someone did make it through in torn denim, said bouncers would have to not only have to walk them out and onto the street but refund their entry fee to the club owners from their own pocket. Okay, it’s a metaphor that has probably been stretched so thin it’s practically transparent but you get the picture.

All of which is a very long way of apologising to the Virgin staff who had to deal with a 55 year old man baby over a policy that they had no choice but to follow.

David divides his time between travelling and stand up comedy. His favourite destinations encompass both and he has performed in London, New York and Las Vegas. Sometimes even on stage. He chafes in polyester, can handle no more than two martinis and his safe word is degustation.