Waiting in transit one- packages

---

Mr. Belkin informed us that we are on a very tight schedule. We can take carry on luggage only; this can basically fit two pairs of pants, a couple of shirts, a jersey, sox, boxers and toiletries. We are also instructed to travel in pairs. My travel companion’s name is Julian. He is a hippy who spent three months in The USA about five years ago, yet still speaks with an American accent. He is harmless enough and we get on pretty well. I count myself lucky; I was told the other pair loathed each other. One deserted the other on a Moscow street one mid winter night, without passport, ticket or money. The police ended up taking the distraught tourist to the airport where she found her travel companion in the nick of time. They were sisters.

I suspect that buying food in airports will eat up my short supply of money. So I stuff my carry on with as many muesli bars as there were gaps. My bag is too heavy and I am ordered to lighten it; I proceed to fill my pockets and trouser legs with muesli from my bag. Security notice my bulgy pants and I am ordered to strip and have the drug dogs sniff me. After warnings and snickers from security, I am being called for on the loud speaker; my plane is waiting for me. After evil eyes from attendants and impatient glares from passengers I am seated for my first flight.

---