10 Most Bizarre Ways To Become Famous

Also the inspiration for a Hollywood feature film - 2004’s The Terminal, starring Tom Hanks and directed by Steven Spielberg - Iranian-born Mehran Karimi Nasseri, born 1942, also known as Sir, Alfred Mehran (apparently the misplaced comma is deliberate) lived in the departure lounge of Terminal One in Charles de Gaulle Airport for eighteen years.

From 26th August 1988 until sometime in July 2006 when he became hospitalised, Sir, Alfred Mehran was an unofficial resident of the airport, having found himself to be a stateless individual upon his arrival there en route to England.

What does that mean? Well, he had entered France legally and with the appropriate paperwork, but when attempting to board a plane to the UK had found that the paperwork was no longer on his person. For eighteen years, unable to move on, he slept on two red benches pushed together, with clean sheets and pillow case which were packed away upon awaking.

The circumstances surrounding this peculiar situation aren’t properly nailed down, largely because Nasseri himself was found to be an unreliable narrator of his own life story, up to and including his attempt to get on the plane. In one version he lost his passport, in another he was robbed, in yet another he posted them elsewhere. His fragile mental state allowed for multiple, usually contradictory backstories to his tale, and without relatives, friends or paperwork no one could ever determine which was true… if any.

Something of a celebrity, Alfred became a cause célèbre too. He received the necessary papers to move on when his case was taken on by a highly-regarded French lawyer, but refused to leave. He wasn’t some random indigent, however: Alfred kept himself and his belongings immaculate, and although he would accept money and vouchers for food, was always sure to leave a tip. An intellectual, he would wax lyrical about global politics, which were something of a passion with him.

Perhaps most poignantly, when documentary filmmaker Paul Berczeller looked into Alfred’s family, he found his siblings all still living in Tehran and all perfectly well aware of their brother’s whereabouts. They had no idea about the mental illness he laboured under: they had assumed that this was the way he wanted to live his life.

It seemed that he’d arrived in France entirely in possession of his faculties, and had only begun the irreversible downward slide once he’d been trapped in the airport for some time. Today, no one seems to know where Sir, Alfred Mehran is. Once he left the hospital, people just lost track.