Terrorist Alert at Luton Airport - Sinister Suspect: Dodgy-Looking Old Lady

Overzealous security staff at Luton Airport get heated and
threaten that abusive behaviour awaits me at Tel Aviv's
 Ben Gurion Airport. Photo: Tel Aviv, Copyright Janet Cameron

This happened in 2013, but it had such an effect on me it's as though it was yesterday. And all because of the metal bracelet.

When the bell rang as I walked through the scanner at Luton Airport, I was happy to relinquish my metal bracelet, which was immediately taken away for further investigation. As requested by security staff, I returned back through the scanner. There were no incriminating bell-like sounds and so I assumed I was clear. After all, to most people, this absense of scanner response might seem an indication that the bracelet was responsible for the original warning bell and not a ticking bomb strapped round my middle. But not to Luton Airport security. And so, the drama commenced.

Thoroughly Frisked and Scanned

I had to ask for a chair, so I could remove my lace-up boots. One was, eventually, found. Then I was brusquely told to stand up and lift my arms while a young woman thoroughly frisked me, up and down my body, round and round my waist. It seemed to go on forever. "Do you know, I am 70-years-old," I told the woman, "I can't believe this is happening to me. Do I really look like a terrorist?"  A security man standing nearby decided to pitch in, and asked me where I was going. "To Israel," I replied.

Meantime, the young woman was now working on me with a hand-held scanner, up and down my body. Then I had to place a foot on a stool, first right, then left, so she could work my legs, inside and out. I could feel my face burning with embarrassment, and I continued complaining. "You will get much worse than that in Israel," said the man, who seemed intent on scaring me, while, at the same time, displaying his racism. "They are much worse than we are here. You just wait and see what happens there." He warmed to his theme, enjoying his scaremongering. "I know, because I worked at Sharm el Sheikh," he declared.

Sharm el Sheikh is, of course, in Egypt but I suppose that was near enough for him!

Suffer in Silence?  Not me!

I accept I can be pretty vocal when I feel my personal space is being abused for no good reason, especially when I am feeling humiliated. So, I dare say that I had triggered his reaction. Even so, I thought those picked for that job, involving as it does, the potential for upsetting people, would have been trained to show some respect and exhibit calming behaviour, never mind the blatant racism! But no such luck.  I replied that I had "evidence" to show that my entry was genuine, (photos and identity numbers of my friends) but that, it seemed, would make no difference. I began to feel afraid, wondering if it was true and that I might be abused, and whether, maybe, I shouldn't have come.

Eventually, I was allowed a chair to replace my boots and my bracelet was returned. I was travelling, mostly, with Israelis and was shown considerable kindness, a willingness to help me with my case and allow me to go in front of them and I felt quite touched by this. Later, on the plane, I found I was sitting next to two young Israeli men. They were surprised when they discovered I'd thrown my bracelet in the rubbish bag brought around by the flight attendants. I'd actually discarded it quietly, without a fuss, placing it between some other rubbish to conceal it, but I guess the flight attendants check everything out. They brought it back to me. I said it had got me into trouble with security and I didn't want it anymore. The truth was I was so fazed by the experience I didn't want ever to lay eyes upon that bracelet again.

Insensitive

"You didn't have to throw away your bracelet," said one of the young men. "No Israeli security officers would search you like they did at Luton because of a metal bracelet." The men said that their security were trained to search out real suspects and that, in no way, did I fit the terrorist profile. In the unlikely event that a search was appropriate, as a woman of mature years, I would have been taken to a private room, not subjected to such an embarrassing ordeal in public.

Clearly, the men were also concerned that their countrymen had been so maligned by the insensitive British security officer. Then they said that they wanted to make it up to me for what had happened to me at Luton.

I Enter Israel in Style in a Chauffeur-Driven Car

So it was, that on arrival at Tel Aviv, they, together with another young woman travelling with them and "yours truly" were picked up by a chauffeur driven diplomatic four-wheel drive and whisked off to the checkout, bypassing the long queue of Easyjet passengers trailing across the tarmac. The Israeli officer glanced over my passport and presented it back to me with my diplomatic pass, headlined in both Hebrew and English "State of Israel - Border Control" and on the reverse: "Keep as a certificate of Border Control approval."  It would, explained my Israeli Knights in Shining Armour, also serve me on my return journey. They wanted me to know that Israelis had more respect for older people than their British counterparts and were smart enough to sniff out the real suspects.

I would have liked to stick up for my own nation, but how could I after such a demonstration of inadequacy followed by the kind and gentle treatment of the Israelis I'd encountered? One can only speak as one finds! My return journey was equally unproblematic, more so because of the pass, but I did observe the Israeli attitude toward my fellow passengers at Ben Gurion Airport and no one was being treated as I had been treated at Luton.

I have always, previously travelled from Gatwick, and although security is stringent there, there does seem to be a better system and a certain respect for passengers. 

I will most definitely avoid Luton Airport in future.