The rules for hand Luggage on the plane are actually quite simple: No weapons, knitting needles, liquids over 100 ml, fireworks, skates, Gels, etc.”, And the Sauerkraut?” I look confused as we are on the verge of the hand Luggage control. “Can we take this?” My wife asks intelligent questions. After all, liquid is with – in the six packages of Luggage Sauerkraut in the hand. And the dishwasher powder is also chemically. So forbidden?
smell of Cheese in your hand Luggage
“next!” We back. My Hand is a bit sweaty. Not the Sauerkraut to take away, please. I grab a package after the other. A Ritter Sport Cornflakes. A. A. The fresh Cossacks of bread from the bakery. The Package Of Dishwasher Powder. Behind me, a business man grabs the box with his Laptop in the gray plastic. I smile at the security officers a little bit retarded. “What you need.” He smiles a knowing smile. “Ok.” If he knew, that we have in the checked-in suitcase still a few packages of Butter, he would explain to us, probably completely stupid.
Simon Kremer: A little Lost in the middle East
Simon Kremer explored the forests of the homeland of mad, and later the deserts of the Arab world. Has retained his naivety until today, and had played, therefore, almost time for the Syrian military team football. It is, therefore, also changes in the Arab robe through the Saxon Switzerland ran. Shortly after that Pegida was founded. Now lives with his wife and daughter in Tunisia and travels as a Journalist through the Middle East. Had to find on the football field and in the delivery room, that you can quickly feel very foreign.
Everyone who lives a long time abroad, developed sometime in his Spleen, what he needs to in order to feel well and to have at least the feeling of home and control. In German, always a topic: fresh bread from the bakery. Because there are, of course, nowhere in the world, so a loaf of bread like the bakery around the corner. That time they still lived in Germany. It is plum jam and Sauerkraut. And dishwasher powder, because the local Tabs not properly clean, we. A well-Known from Beirut, said the other day: “The Good, if you end up with Air France in Beirut, is that you appreciate the smell of the before rotten the garbage in the streets. With all the smell of Cheese in your hand Luggage.”
It is a real miracle, which some people get everything in the plane. Finally, a case lost was come to us, and I had to look for him at the airport in Tunis on the next day. The gear in the storage hall with all of the Luggage is a walk in the smell of hell. In the shelves of the lost suitcases stacked like in a hardware store. Each airline has their gear. You could be here for “Wetten, dass..?!” practice, if it would give the shipment. “Simon K. from Tunis, bets that he can call on the basis of the smell of the airline that the suitcase has been transported.”
prams, olive oil puddles and Mangosud
In the hallway with the lost Luggage from Air France it is easy. It smells like cheese – spicy, penetrating. A bit moldy. Some of the case here for several months. Prior to the Alitalia-shelf formed a viscous puddle. Somewhere a bottle of olive oil must be run. In the series with the suitcases from Senegal, from Guinea, from Mali, it smells fermented. Here melons, oranges, or mangoes. About strollers, single wheels stacks: a veritable construction kit for a new baby vehicle.
A bit Lost in the middle East
The milk crisis of La Marsa or as Tunisia, to the Butter-Hamsters forces
last year, a photo from the Tripoli airport in Libya, made the rounds on the net. There’s a burlap sack turned his lonely rounds on the Luggage belt. The front of the head of a Gazelle peeped out of the eyes. Especially when flying with local, Arab Airlines, also gets the concept of “Personal Items” a new meaning. Grandmas that can barely walk, drag, two, three with wide plastic tape, held together Ikea bags. Inside: Blankets, toys, imitation perfumes, gifts for the whole family.
, The palm is not part of the Gang
On a flight from Damascus to Tunis but it was also one of the flight attendants too much: “The palm tree you can’t be here standing in the hall,” he barked a passenger. In addition to the passenger a flower pot stand from the almost one and a half meters high palm tree sticking out. The Steward grabbed the palm and tried to slide a cross into the Luggage compartment. The arable trickled down to the seated passengers.
The passenger, it was too much. He grabbed his palm and slammed it beside him on the seat, palm-leaves, sticking out over the next few rows of seats. The Steward was clear that he was against the guest, no Chance. Only a victory he had to get his handle on the guest over to the Middle, where the palm was sitting. And buckled her seatbelt. Then he went on. As The Winner.