41119_Niro jubilaeumsbog_blok_uk - GEA Niro

The start up of the plant was not without problems. Something
was wrong when we couldn’t achieve the calculated dry air
quantity. A valve must have been mounted incorrectly, or
there had to be a blockage of the air supply pipe. But no,
that wasn’t the case. Then I disassembled the suction ventilator
and noted that the paddle wheel was laterally reversed. Now
the situation was desperate, but I succeeded in rebuilding
the suction ventilator, and then it worked.
As time went on everything worked, and the staff was able
to manage the operations. But they were not willing to let
me go, because then the plant became their own responsibility.
They dragged their feet, and I considered asking Niro to send
a telegram to the factory saying they needed me at home.
But suddenly they couldn’t get a connection to Denmark, or
so they claimed. But I could give them a message, and then
they would call Prague and ask them to deliver it. Of course
that was not possible, so I had to hang in there. Finally they
couldn’t keep me there anymore, and again I went to the police
station, where I got an exit visa.
Upon my departure from the factory, however, the manager
of the factory took it away from me, because he wanted
proof that I had actually been there. So I took the night
train back to Prague, from where I was flying back to
24 | 25
Copenhagen. As the time for my departure drew nearer, we
were called one by one into passport control. When it was
my turn I was in trouble, because I didn’t have an exit visa.
I suggested that they call the company in Prague to verify
my identity. They did try that, I think, but the office was
closed, since it was past four o’clock. We argued in English,
German and the small amount of Czech that I knew, but it
didn’t do me any good. I was held back, while the other
passengers were attended to.
I realized that I would be put in jail without the possibility
of notifying Denmark. I was hoping that the infamous exit
visa could be provided by the next day, so that I could get
out of the Iron Curtain. But then everything was suddenly
alright. I was one big question mark, but the explanation
was easy. The commissar was tired of arguing and had left
the room, and then the passport officer was not afraid to
give me the precious stamp in my passport. It was an unpleasant
event, and later that evening when I was home in
my garden in Virum, I enjoyed the freedom. I had come to
realize how good it was to live on the western side of the
Iron Curtain. And as a little ironic postscript: today you
can travel to 24 Schengen countries without a passport. Yes,
times do change.