The first was at Frankfurt airport when at the security check a uniformed man steps forward, says something and escorts D to one side...Laurie and I have already spied a play area and are on the front foot when I catch sight of the uniform out of the corner of my eye. I double back leaving L exploring a space ship....'What is it?' I ask in a special trying to sound level voice. 'Oh my bag has tested positive for explosives.' We all stay calm, despite being late for our plane as usual. Other uniformed types gather...until finally we unearth a branding tool his mother had popped in his bag as a present for someone at Mareja. (It is for branding belongings not people by the way.)
The second moment was at Nairobi airport. Again Laurie and I were hurtling towards our taxi driver who was holding out one of those wonderful signs with your name emblazoned, that make you feel on top of life/welcomed/generally loved. And D is dawdling having taken his shoes off and enjoying a post flight fag. Then again I see the tell tale twinkle of uniform, this time a policewoman holding D quite aggressively by the arm. It turned out he was smoking in a no smoking area...outside the airport entrance but apparently marked. He was not having any of it and went in with heavy sarcasm...which turned out not to be a good idea. I go up with a large smile and try to defuse the situation and to assure her he is not a no-shoed vagrant!
The winged words float load and clear. "I am arresting your husband." After much bobbing on my part I mention that I will pay a fine. It doesn't seem to register then our taxi driver gets involved and says I must give her the money very subtly. Eventually after much complaining about D's attitude I hand over a bunch of KES.
Not the best start to our travels. But at least there wasn't yet another detour...via prison.
