Confessions of a travelling non-dom

O’ar Pali says it isn’t easy being on planes next to strangers all the time — and you quickly find there are a series of character types, dying to tell you about themselves

Perhaps it goes with the territory: if you have decided to live your life between two countries you must accept the consequences. And no, I am not talking about Darling’s taxation treat. I am referring to what most non-doms endure on a monthly if not weekly basis. While the average UK citizen may undergo the travel dilemma a few times a year, usually during the summer and winter holidays, entitling them to complain about Heathrow’s Terminal 5, non-doms have been forced to evolve past such trivialities. Over many flights we have not only had our bags lost, mangled or sent to Uganda, but been stripped down to our bare essentials and made to hop on one foot while the sole of the other one is being examined.