Bizarre and the bazaar

By WARREN GAMBLE

Things you won't see on an Air Force 727: in-flight movies, champagne and shorts.

Economy and propriety account for the first two, and hairy knees are just against regulations, as one unsuspecting civilian passenger discovered during the long haul from Auckland to Turkey.

Strange, then, at 31,000ft just past the Pyramids - which looked like charm-bracelet ornaments - that everyone began removing their clothes. But the mid-air strip was no regimental ritual, rather the result of modern military diplomacy.

In the Middle East kingdom of Bahrain, the second overnight stop on the trip, authorities do not take kindly to a load of armed services people turning up in uniform, so civvies were worn at all times in the oil-rich territory.

That meant the 43-strong Defence Force contingent from the three services had to slip back into uniform on the plane on Saturday before arriving at Istanbul.

The women had an impromptu dressing area behind a blanket near the front of the plane, with the officers and Army chaplain averting their eyes.

The military had obviously learned from experience in keeping Bahrain happy. Three journalists in the group were detained at border control for acknowledging their occupation, and looked increasingly worried as a colleague began miming an uncomfortable body search. But after hurried promises that they would leave the next day, they were let through.

For all that, it can be reported that Bahrain had its attractions. Gold, spices, tobacco and hawkers selling Arabic head-dress assault the senses in the main market, while back at the hotel the price of beer assaults your pocket - $15 for a glass in the strict Muslim country.

It is somewhere you would never normally visit, but that is one of the bonuses of the four-hour hops the Air Force Boeing - a former United Airlines passenger aircraft - has to make to refuel.

You can end up in odd little places, from a paint-peeled blockhouse at the Darwin Air Force base to the tiny Indian Ocean atolls of the Maldives.

There, one palm-tree-lined atoll is just a runway, one is full of low-rise offices, shops and apartments, and others are solely resorts. Unfortunately, the exotic surroundings are not matched by the transit lounge food - depressingly generic burgers and cold chips.

Back on board, the five students who won a national essay competition to get the trip were soaking it all up, completely unfazed by having to sit at the noisy rear of the plane.

A number had been only as far as Australia before and Anna Chartres, from Christchurch Girls High School, had not been out of the country. On the first night in Singapore she stood in awe looking up at the towering internal lobby of the hotel: "I've never stayed anywhere like this before."

The five, plus two teenage service cadets who won a similar competition, have quickly adapted to their jetsetting lifestyle, sightseeing in Singapore and bartering in Bahrain.

For sea cadet Toni Quinn, from Whangarei, it has been a dream rehearsal to a hoped-for career in the Navy as a helicopter pilot.

"The thing that attracted me [about the military] was you get paid to travel. This has already been a real experience. It's heaps of fun."

Within a day, Toni Quinn, from Kamo High School, had already made friends with the other Whangarei winner, Moana Jarman, from Whangarei Girls High. Like the other students, she could not believe her luck.

"At the moment I'm still trying to get over the fact that this is happening - I'm on the plane to Turkey. I think it's really going to be an emotional experience and it's obviously the trip of a lifetime."

Impromptu entertainment on board is provided by members of the 15-strong Maori culture group, strumming guitars and practising songs for their performances at Gallipoli.

And (almost) before you know it, after 24 hours and 10 minutes' flying, the minarets of Istanbul are on the skyline.

The trip had an oddly symbolic ending as the military joined New Zealand backpackers in the immigration hall queue.

At the front was the contingent commander, Lieutenant-Colonel David Russell, whose grandfather fought and was wounded at Gallipoli.

Eighty-five years later, the only sign of Turkish resistance was a stamp-wielding customs officer who barely gave him a second look.