Two boiled potatoes and a cocktail the colour of a Slush Puppy almost landed me in a West African jail. Admittedly, theft wasn’t on my mind when I’d huddled into a corner with the meagre pickings on offer at the (only) lounge in Gabon’s Léon-Mba International Airport in Libreville. Two lonely bottles of spirits behind the dusty bar weren’t even worth the extra weight in my luggage.