Leaving Dunedin with one of our grown kids for a long weekend (The Queen's Birthday) we were heading to the famously beautiful (and warmer) Coromandel Peninsula in the North. We crossed the tarmac to board a plane the way we had arrived, by one of those portable stairways. The sun was shining and I felt happy and carefree climbing the stairway to the rear of the plane, the way we used to in the 1950's.
Airports excite me with their smell of the gasoline, the deafening noise of plane engines revving, taking off and landing all around. I pulled out my phone to snap a selfie with, I hoped, our plane in the background. There was raucus shouting and I turned to see airline personnel in orange vests on the tarmac waving - at me? As they continued to call out, I burst out laughing (see below), embarrassed and grateful that they were cheering me on in this still uncomfortable campaign of shameless self-promotion.
Only when one of them charged the portable airplane stairs could I see that instead of cheering me on, the guy was displeased to the point of threatening. The phrases "$50,000 fine", "security risk" and "no photography allowed" cut through the noise, I winced, shouting "SORRY" and ducked into the plane, feeling lucky that he hadn't confiscated my phone.