The "green" corridor—usually a breezy passage for law-abiding jetsetters—turned into a gilded cage for one unsuspecting traveler. A 32-year-old woman, her arms draped like a jewelry store display, was halted by an inspector whose trained eye caught more than just the glint of her accessories. Seventeen pieces from Cartier, Hermès, and other luxury houses nestled in her carry-on, their combined worth enough to make a pawnshop owner weep.
Her defense? "I bought them ages ago" and a shrug about rulebooks—as if customs forms were mere suggestions, like calorie counts on dessert menus. But the gems didn’t lie: rings, bracelets, and a Rolex, all forged from 750-grade gold and studded with diamonds, malachite, and other treasures, passed the authenticity test with flying colors. Now, prosecutors eye her under smuggling laws, threatening a five-year sentence or a million-ruble slap on the wrist.
Elsewhere, another traveler redefined "hand luggage" more literally: five severed Himalayan bear paws, weighing four kilograms, were discovered in a bus passenger’s bag bound for China. No permits, just primal contraband—proof that the border sees more than just sparkles.
