I had two interesting experiences with customs some years ago when I was a
fulltime professional photog. One was in Canada, the other in Franco Spain.
I had crossed into Canada on an assignment for an American firm with an
operation there. When the customs man saw my four Nikon F2s and lenses, he
requested import duties of over $2000. Taken aback I made a mild protest. He
told me I had three options. 1. Turn around and go home.
2. Pay the $2000. 3, enter without paying anything but leave the cameras
with him. I left the cameras there there and went on to see my client.
Ultimately, my client found a wrinkle in the law that permitted the payment
of 1/60th the duty in certain circumstances. We managed to meet the
circumstances, paid the duty, and I went on to complete my assignment.
The other was the time I landed in Barcelona, when Spain was still a fascist
dictatorship. When I opened the same case of equipment, the customs guy
whistled softely and called for his jefe. The jefe looked, and when I told
him I was a pro he asked me for some kind of identification. All I had was a
membership card in my city's local professional photo group. But it looked
official. The jefe glanced at the card, then smiled broadly and said
"Welcome to Spain." And into fascist Spain I went, with all my gear.
At the time I found it striking that a photographer and all his cameras would
gain entrance more easily to a police state than to the great democracy to
our north.
I still wonder about it.
Harry
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