travels with me, aren’t

International travel eh? Discovering new things speaking a different language. Badly. Watching other Brit tourists explaining what they want in what they think is a different language but is actually just English. Only Louder and slower. Luckily as I have dark skin I can often pass as not Brit and when I find myself in that situation I affect an accent smile sweet disownment and leave. Yes international travel. I love it. Well I love it when I don’t have to go through airport security. And when say airport security I mean the checkpoint Charlie complete with what I’m sure were parapet mounted submachine guns at Heathrow airport. Flying to Vienna I dutifully put all my tiny liquids into the sandwich bag they provided and I kept repeating rather over dramatically that I had a laptop but I still came unstuck. The nail scissors in my carry on were waved through without so much as a cavity search but my umbrella a full length affair was almost impounded as a security risk they asked that I check it in or have it destroyed by gas or something. My pleads of “look it has a plastic tip”. Were met with a stony stare. My protestations of “But. I’m going to miss my flight” were met with a stony stare and raised eyebrow. And my question “So what do you think I’m going to do? Wrestle a flight attendant to the floor and force them to be protected from onboard precipitation, is that it? Really?” Was met with a stony stare raised eyebrow and possibly threat of arrest. I complied. I asked what I should do. Go down to check in and take it to desk X…desk X? it sounds like my umbrella was carrying the Ebola virus. I approach desk X they examine my brolly very closely then look at each other then look quizzically at me with a but it has a plastic tip. “I know”. I’m trying to initiate a silent Jedi mind trick that will lead them to believe this is not the brolly they are looking for…or at least get them to please not have this conversation with me just put a bar code on it and process it or whatever it is they do so I can make my flight. They do. I speed-walk over to gate 6 and hyperventilate into my hand luggage. The worst of it was on the way back? The Austrians did not care. I asked and asked but was met with a stony stare and an efficient: “Of course its fine it has a plastic tip….”
Bon voyage.