GUNS IN MY FACE

Guns in my Face Part 1 

I’ll have to go back in history to them all! There has been quite a few but I’ll start with Bill Forbes and me walking back to our little dark blue Ford van when two policeman in navy uniforms were blocking our way by suddenly pointing their rifles in our faces. We didn’t move as the policeman searched our shopping bags which were “surprise, surprise” full of groceries.

After they had a search inside the Van we were given the “ok” to drive toward the island ferry to Ulster. We had a good laugh about it all but in fact it was a frightening experience.

Guns in my Face Part 2

I woke up and there was a gun in my face! An old Land Rover had stopped beside the road and four faces stared at me.

I was approximately 1800kms from Benghazi in North Africa. They were laughing and curious as I had been sleeping beside the road on a pile of crushed rock.

There was nothing to look at except the stars and the desert sky. The only word I could use was Benghazi and they were happy to take me some of the way. The 4 men tried to talk to me but it was hopeless! They had Arabic only and I had perhaps 10 words of that beautiful language. Not far from Tripoli we all shook hands and they laughed and drove south into the desert. It took 3 days to reach Benghazi and no more guns!

Guns in my Face Part 3

I rang the bell at the front doors of the Albanian Embassy in London, not far from the tube station. I was carrying a vinyl travel bag and walked towards the reception desk.  There was a loud “clang” behind me and a large shot gun aimed at my face.

I didn’t move. Just stared at the guy. They were very angry and it took over 30 minutes to allow me back on the street and stop the shakes.

I would love to visit Albania to see the mountains and the people but its not going to happen in this lifetime

Guns in my Face Part 4

I have never had any problems with police in any country I’ve ever travelled in ( not sure why except I always co-operated when they started asking questions). 

The ferry /ship taking people from Marseilles in Southern France across “The Med” to Tunis was an example. As soon as we left the port they started asking questions and one with a large pistol stared at me from close quarters and asked what I was doing? I said I was going home to Australia and this was the start of a very Long journey. They looked in disbelief and wished me luck and put the pistol away.