I haven’t been on an aeroplane since I was nine years old.
No actually, I have. I spent about twenty minutes on a Cessna between Zanzibar and Dar es Salaam about a year ago.
But other than that domestic flight to Kisum’ City [but do I say!] I haven’t been off the ground except to jump.
So I was fairly excited about my first international flight. To Dar.
Being a writer, I figured an airport would be the perfect place for me. Duty free shopping, lots of accents, and all those strange people to watch. I was sure I’d find fodder for a script, or at least meet some guy who looks like Tom Hanks.
Instead I was claustrophobic and cold, and I realised that ‘duty-free’ Baileys costs less at Mwalimu Wine Agencies in town. It’s offical: I hate airports. Continue reading