I was (nearly) arrested at Hong Kong airport.
I'd just flown in from Beijing, and handed over all of my remaining Chinese currency to be exchanged, scanning the accommodation listings for somewhere to stay on my layover while I waited.
The very nice lady at the TravelX booth frowned, and explained that one of the ¥100 bills appeared to be counterfeit. Quickly calculating that it was only worth about $10, I told her not to worry about it.
“No, sir, you have to wait here while the Police come.” she said.
Bugger.
At this point I flet slightly guilty. I’d already been told I had a fake note by a street vendor selling knock-off Olympic Games T-Shirts at the Temple of Heaven. I thought this was weird, because the note came right out of an ATM from a well-known global bank.
Why didn’t I just throw it away?
The Police officer arrived and suddenly I was being escorted through the airport terminal with an armed guard, the money now sealed in an evidence bag. At nearly 6 foot 4 inches tall I towered above him, but it didn’t make it feel any less intimating.
The Police station was abuzz with activity. Too many people and not enough desks. And everyone was interested in the lanky foreigner sitting nervously at the far desk.
The officer took down my story about getting the bill from an ATM in Beijing. He was definitely skeptical, but took down my story and told me if the bill turns out to be real, they'd send it on to me, but for now they were going to keep it.
And I was free to go.
So a bit of an adventure, and a great story for “two truths and a lie”, but not really very serious in the end.
I’m convinced that the street vendor switched by “real” ¥100 bill with the fake when she told me the one I offered her was fake. That seems much more likely that a fake bill from an ATM.
Somewhere I have the letter they sent about six months later telling me that the bill had indeed been a fake, and that it had been destroyed.
