It’s always so difficult coming back to LA. I’m not talking
emotionally or metaphorically (that’s an entirely different blog). I’m talking
literally. Maybe someone is trying to tell me something but the
last couple of trips back have been a little bit ridiculous.
After nearly a year I think I’m finally ready to write about
my journey back from Africa. Where I was held under suspicion of being a
terrorist! Ok maybe that’s a slight exaggeration but hmmm not really!
At 27 hours (airport to airport) the journey was never going
to be much fun. The 11 mile journey from the hotel to the airport which took a
couple of hours in crazy, standstill Nairobi traffic should have been an
indication that it wasn’t going to be straight forward, although that’s a bit
like my daily commute to Santa Monica (minus the roadside extortion and the donkeys!) I thought I had never felt so stressed on one journey. Until I got to the airport. I
don’t know what vibe I was giving off that day but I was stopped at the
entrance to the terminal and my case was searched. All good. At the gate you
have to go through more security scanners and they did a spot check of my hand
luggage at this one. And decided I had been handling explosives! Of course I
told them I hadn’t (because I hadn’t!) but they insisted I had and wanted to
know if I had spent time with the army whilst in Africa or been underground. No
to both of those questions. If they had seen me trying to have a wee in one of
those huts with a hole in the ground they would have known I’m not really your
underground venturing, explosive handling kind of girl!
The next hour and twenty minutes were spent with them determined
to get to the bottom of where and how I had been handling explosives. At one
point there were 14 of them and little old me. I must have appeared quite a
risk sitting there crying with no shoes on! My defence was me saying things
like ‘I’ve been on Safari, maybe its elephant poo’, ‘I don’t know anyone in the
African army’, ‘You can’t just keep me in Africa’. After speaking to somebody in
London and deciding that maybe I wasn’t a terrorist after all they decided I
could get on the plane. On one condition. I had to leave behind my belongings that they
believed had come into contact with explosives. Funnily enough the item
they were most interested in was my iPad. I got all brave then and said I
was not leaving that so they checked again with London who of course said give
her her iPad back! I finally left Africa minus my iPad case, glasses case,
sunglasses and a hair bobble which they said I could retrieve from lost
property in Nairobi at a later date! I must remember to do that the next time
I’m passing through Nairobi airport!
I do remember thinking after that trip that travelling back
to LA from England was going to be a breeze. A whopping 4373 miles and 12
hours shorter, what could possibly go wrong? Hahahahahahahaha!
Cut to this week and my journey from Manchester to LA. I
mean what is there to say other than what fool would decide to travel via the
East Coast in January?
42 hours, 4 different time zones and temperatures ranging
from -9 in New York and Minneapolis (with no coat, I live in LA, we don’t wear coats) to 17 in LA (at night, in
January, that’s why we don’t wear coats)
Of course it wasn’t quite as traumatic as the African
experience however it was still pretty dire. I do think it’s always important
to learn something from experiences like this though. This is what I learnt;
1 - I would prefer to be tortured through starvation than
sleep deprivation.
2 – A member of airline staff saying to me ‘Don’t you think
I would like to go home too?’ will not make me feel any better.
3 – Drinking wine does not help. Maybe it helps get you
through the first 12 – 15 hours. After that? Not so much.
4 – Having a Green Card does not get you through immigration
any quicker (especially if you suspect you’re on some sort of underground
venturing, explosive handling watch list)
5 – My daily commute to Santa Monica is not a long journey.
My next holiday is to Orlando. I might even drive.
