Hong Kong Airport
I’ve arrived. But my two very small pieces of luggage have not. Those that know me know I have a tendency to lose stuff. So as I arrived very early at Birmingham, I thought it wisest to check my minimal luggage in. No chance of losing it then. And In it all the very valuable root tracing documents. And the copy set. What an idiot! How could I get it so wrong?
On arrival I turned on my phone to be greeted with this text
“Flight AF188: your baggage item no102196 will not be delivered upon arrival. It is still in transport. Please go to the Air France Baggage Services desk”
and another duplicate text for the small rucksack containing the few clothes i decided to bring. You know pjs. socks. pants.
An hour of trailing around and much discussion with officials. Me looking like crap, tired and emotional and not in the business mode I’d normally assume for such important conversations. I’m given a form and told by the man who looks about twelve, and who seems to think that as I’m here for 3 months it’s slightly funny and absolutely fine they have lost my stuff, that it will possibly arrive midnight tomorrow.
I know, I know, I wanted to travel light. Occurs to me that I’m coming ‘home’ with roughly the same amount of stuff I left with back in 1961. Me, and my little bag, and my stuffed monkey Marve today. Back then, me and my little bag and a blow up Father Christmas.