Majorca Flats -- 135

“It turned out that I could apply for a visa on-line. It's issued almost immediately, but they didn't put a stamp in my passport. It's all electronic. Anyway, after I sorted that out, when I tried to board the plane there was a big hoo-ha because they thought I might be a terrorist.”

“Fuck me! Whoi?” Keith was astounded.

“I bought a ticket for cash — not a credit card. I was a back-packer. I dunno. Do I look like a terrorist to you chaps?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued, “So I was interviewed for an hour, and in the end they let me go after searching everything in my back-pack even taking off the effing ends of the tubes to look inside. But after God knows how long, since even they could see I wasn't a terrorist, they let me leave. Imagine if I'd been Indian or Pakistani? I'd probably be being tortured in Guantanamo right now.

“Anyway, when I got to Melbourne, they quizzed me all over again. But I managed to convince them to let me in for six months. Then I caught the bus into the city and started walking. I walked and walked until I came to Majorca Flats.”

“Majorca Flats?”

“It's a row of terrace houses where I rent a room. From a really nice old lady.” He swallowed some more brandy. “You know, it's weird. And wonderful.  I'm making myself a new home here.”

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Majorca Flats Episodes 1 to 10           Majorca Flats Episodes 71 to 80
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Majorca Flats Episodes 21 to 30         Majorca Flats Episodes 91 to 100
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Majorca Flats Episodes 61 to 70

Majorca Flats -- 15

The visa was a problem. He'd entered Australia as a tourist. He wasn't supposed to work, and he knew that if they found out that he'd done that, that he would be expelled from the country and might never be permitted to return. If he wanted to stay permanently he would either have to apply for permanent residence or marry an Ozzie. He didn't think they accepted gay marriage in Australia. He could marry a woman. He'd had his share of girlfriends. But after what had happened, he didn't want any more pretence or lies. He was mostly gay. He didn't want to hurt any woman by pretending otherwise, just to get a visa. And he'd read somewhere that the Australian immigration office checked up on married couples to see if they really were married, because there'd been so many scams. He wondered how they did it. Naturally, they couldn't go into their bedroom to see whether they were actually fucking. He laughed to himself at this idea, and wondered what they'd make of his parents, who slept in separate bedrooms.

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