G-SPOT: How I cheated fate after it tried to cost me my flight

This approach is meant to cover all the usual hazards: traffic that suddenly decides to stop moving, slow security queues and the ever-present possibility of a last-minute request for documentation you were never informed you needed.

International travel introduces additional layers of suspense. Passports must be inspected, visas examined, health documents studied thoughtfully and occasionally frowned at for reasons known only to the official holding them. Immigration and security checks also have a habit of multiplying without warning.

Arriving early also improves one’s chances of securing decent seating or, on an overbooked flight, being treated kindly rather than being politely informed that one will now be flying tomorrow. 

On full flights, those who check in last are often the first to be bumped. Add to this the fact that some airports resemble small countries and gates can change at the last minute, and my early arrival begins to look less neurotic and more sensible.

Then there is what I like to call the ‘Peace of Mind’ factor. Instead of attempting to sprint through terminals sweating heavily and out of breath, arriving early allows one to use the toilet unhurriedly, get food, answer emails or simply sit and stare into space. It turns the airport from a stress arena into ‘me time’.

While ‘lastminutedotcom’ travellers swear by the so-called airport theory of arriving just in time to squeeze through security and board miraculously, the margin of error is slim. Missed flights, unlike missed buses, are rarely forgiving. For me, early arrival remains the safer and significantly less theatrical option.

Last week, on a short hop from Lamu back to my base in Malindi, this philosophy paid off once again.

The airline had sent an advisory the day before, saying departure from Lamu Manda Airport would be at 4.45pm. Check-in would open at 3pm, close at 4pm and arrival in Malindi would be at 5.15pm. Clear, sensible and reassuring.

Naturally, I planned to be at the airport by 2pm. Unless everyone else had adopted the same thinking, this would place me firmly at the front of the queue.

This was particularly important because I was doing a favour for a friend and transporting a large cooler box. Alongside my rucksack and laptop bag, it threatened to test the airline’s weight allowance. Being early meant I could resolve any issues calmly rather than negotiating with ground staff while a queue of increasingly impatient passengers formed behind me.

Early arrival would also give me time to deploy charm and good humour, should it become necessary to “talk nicely” about my extra luggage.

The cooler box could, of course, have been sent by bus or courier. However, the owner was away and unable to collect it, and had specifically asked me to bring it back. There was also the small matter of imagining what might happen to it en route by matatu or bus, an exercise guaranteed to generate unnecessary anxiety.

In the end, my various bags came in comfortably under the airline’s allowance, and no charm offensive was required.

Where I really benefited from my early arrival, however, was timing. It soon became apparent that the flight was leaving significantly earlier than announced. Had I arrived late, there might have been trouble. Somehow, the other passengers appeared to have received the memo about being early, while I seemed to have missed it entirely.

I arrived in Malindi at roughly the time I had originally been scheduled to leave Lamu. Fortunately, I managed to alert my tuk-tuk driver, who was waiting for me at the adjusted time.

Because I was early anyway, no crisis arose. Still, it made me wonder: if a flight departs earlier than scheduled, are passengers entitled to compensation in the same way they would be for a cancellation? Or is early departure simply treated as a bonus, provided you were already there, sitting calmly, congratulating yourself for arriving far too soon?