There's no phalange!

Me: Heathrow Airport. Still.

Him: Nairobi

Distance: 6,120 miles (or, according to Google Maps, 79 d 15 hr if I start walking now)

'There is smoke coming from the engine. There has been a lot of smoke. I don't think we should be taking off.'

I am wedged between two other passengers and flicking my way through the in-flight entertainment system when the man in front of me raises his first concern. The air stewardess casts a cursory eye out the window and I follow their gaze, noticing the smoke for the first time. She makes a dismissive gesture and I flick my eyes back to the screen, trying to ignore the word 'smoke' and wondering if there is any film that I haven't already seen during the many flights I have taken over the past month.

'Did you see it as well?'

A second man has stood up in the aisle and is now leaning over to the other man in front of me. They talk excitedly for a few minutes about the quantity of the smoke and what it could mean.

'I think it's a ball-bearing,' Man #1 says confidently. Man #1 looks like he is heading for a high-class safari and I am pretty sure knows very little about plane technology or ball bearings.

'All I know is I'm not sitting down,' Man #2 announces loudly to Man #1. I give up on the comedy I was trying to watch. Although this is stating what is probably an obvious fact, comedy is less funny when your plane may be on fire.

The air stewardess reappears and gone are the dismissive gestures. Over the tannoy the captain announces that they are testing the engine as it is apparently smoking.

Two hours and three tests later it is still smoking and Kenya Airways finally decides it might be a good idea to get us all off. Queue chaos as we go through immigration, pick up our bags, traipse to the airport Premier Inn, and get dinner.

'Screw dinner', I think to myself as I finally open the hotel door. I know I have some final Christmas chocolates in my suitcase, so I will munch on a few of those while watching Netflix. If feel almost smug at the thought. I unpack my case for what feels like the millionth time since I left home a month ago and locate the chocolates.

Excellent, I'll start with a yummy white chocolate.

I take an initial bite and GAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Turns out the 'chocolates' from my sister-in-law are actually individual soaps. It is hard to express the level of disappointment in words! However, once I have rinsed my mouth thoroughly, I realise may not be a bad thing. Given I hadn't expected to stay the night and my toothpaste is sat in my parents' bathroom.