Having just returned from another trip to Kenya, I can honestly say I am developing a love hate relationship with airports. Unlike my previous Transit from Hell, this trip was rather uneventful with only one “incident” occurring yet again involving my luggage. Besides the personality less security and customs officials whose sole purpose in life is to humiliate you with an over botoxed like expressionless and void of emotions face, I found the other people I met fascinating. Reflecting back on my 5 hour layover in Nairobi, I couldn’t help but recall the conversations I had, the people I met and the impact some of them had on my views on life.
My journey started off like so many before – trying to fit my whole wardrobe into a suitcase just big enough to stuff in the lifeless body of a full grown Labrador. And NO I haven’t actually done that before! Having had to scale down on my wardrobe I eventually manage to zip my bag close using a technique I perfected years ago: Sitting on your suitcase in just the right manner you can manage to close it, no matter how overcapacity it is, on the second or third attempt. Jumping on it is sometimes also required and cursing is absolutely optional but usually unavoidable. For my two days and one night in Nairobi I managed to pack the essentials which included all my "oils of delay", hair products, certain other beauty essentials, four outfits, two pairs of shoes, PJ’s and undergarments (it just sounds so much more sophisticated than underwear) to last me a week, because you never know when the next ash cloud, earthquake, snow and/or fog could fuck with air traffic again.
Till next time.