Arriving in Kenya

On wobbly legs that had been liquored up on free gin and tonics, I made my way down the center

isle of the plane. The amazingly good-looking boy who had been sitting next to me was chuckling behind me as I tried with all my might to get my hand luggage and I out of the plane and onto the bus.

At some point Rob managed to find me and the three of us found a seat right at the back of the bus. By now, because the gin had set in, I was thoroughly enjoying staring at this guy’s arms, however I managed to pull my eyes away for long enough to notice the string of people waiting to get into the airport arrivals building and groaned in absolute pain. Did we have to join that queue? I thought back to Michelle telling me that it sometimes took her hours to clear customs and I was filled with dread.

Suddenly the fact that I had been awake since four o’clock that morning, and had already caught two separate planes, caught up with me and exhaustion mixed with gin and over-excitement, nearly resulted in a tantrum.

I think Rob realised that a tantrum of epic proportions was about to come his way because he was searching desperately for a different entrance into the airport terminal, and to my utter relief he managed to find the correct entrance which didn’t have a queue at all. We got through quickly and grabbed the forms that needed to be filled in and while I scrambled in my handbag for some pens Rob managed to get me into the correct aisle.

Clearing passport control went smoothly and before long I was searching for my bag while Rob dealt with his passport. I saw a HUGE red bag circling one of the carousels and instantly knew that it had to be mine. I ran to it and grabbed it off the carousel. It was at this point that I realised that none of the carousels were labelled. Turns out that in Kenya they put your bag onto the closest carousel regardless of where your flight came from. This made searching for Rob’s plan blue bag rather a mission but even that, in comparison to the travel horror stories I have heard, was easy (although this could be due to the fact that I was completely drunk and had no concept of time).

Anyways, with our bags at our sides we made our way through to the airport exit (well we followed the mass of people and hoped that it was heading in the same direction as we were). It was at this point when I saw Michelle and finally I was seeing a face filled with nearly as much excitement as mine. I considered running but then realised that drunk Kat plus heavy bag would result in a fail but it seemed Michelle had no such reservations and before long I was cuddling up to my adopted sister who I hadn’t seen in what felt like forever and a half.

It was then that it dawned on me; I was in Kenya!