No Man's Land

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In the 1970s, it was against Libyan law to have any official signs written in languages other than Arabic. It was also illegal to broadcast any public announcements except in Arabic. These regulations were strictly enforced at Tripoli Airport, which made catching flights out of Libya a very stressful experience for foreigners who didn’t speak or read Arabic.

The worst example while we were there was that of a British publisher’s representative, who was heading home after hawking his wares around schools in Tripoli. I’ve forgotten his name, so I’ll call him Brian.

Brian got to the airport early, checked in, went through Immigration and waited in the departure lounge for his British Caledonian flight to Gatwick. Unfortunately, he didn’t understand any of the announcements and he missed his flight.

As he was a seasoned traveler, he wasn’t too worried. All he had to do was go back into the main concourse and change his ticket. Off he went back towards the concourse. But, of course, he had to go back through Immigration – and that’s where he hit a snag.

The Immigration official demanded to see his passport. When Alan produced it, the official saw that it contained an exit stamp. “You can’t come back now,” he said, “because you have left Libya.”

“But I haven’t left,” argued Brian. “I’m still here.”

“No, you have left,” replied the official. “As soon as you walked through here before and received an exit stamp in your passport, you left Libya.”

“Okay.” Brian knew that arguing wouldn’t get him anywhere. “So what can I do?”

The official explained that the only solution was for Brian to fly to another country, go to the local Libyan consulate, get an entry visa for Libya and fly back to Tripoli.

“But I can’t fly to another country unless you let me back into the concourse to change my ticket.”

“This is true,” agreed the official. “But I cannot let you back into Libya now you have left.”

Brian went back into the departure lounge. He could wait for the next British Caledonian flight and try to talk his way onto that using his old ticket. However, the next flight wasn’t for four days and no sane person would seriously consider spending four days in the airport’s tiny departure lounge.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He slipped through a side door onto the tarmac. Once outside, he walked from plane to plane on the runway, shouting up to the pilots and asking for a ride. The captain of a Swissair plane took pity on him and let him board.