We were joined by another traveller whose case was also lost, distressed at the prospect of flying home longhaul the next day without her stuff.Īnd so began that heart-sinking traipse around the airport from one desk to another, asking for help from people who were perfectly pleasant but knew nothing remotely useful. Was it sitting in Spain? Dublin? All my lovely clothes! But a horrible feeling of inevitability set in. The one chap on duty told us to wait a little longer - it might still turn up. One by one the other passengers disappeared. She found the lots included 40 or so suitcasesĪt Gatwick, hours later, we retrieved our main case from the carousel, though ominously it was one of the last out, and then waited. I last saw my red holdall at Barcelona check-in - I recall tucking in the straps, worried they might catch on the conveyor belt, and seeing it trundle off.Ĭase in point: Charlotte at the auction viewing day. A complicated itinerary that meant taking bags on and off planes six times. What ensued was a mad scramble to get home by any means: we ended up flying from Malta to Barcelona for an overnight stay, and then on to Dublin with Aer Lingus before the final leg to Gatwick. We had to get our two daughters back to school - but easyJet could offer only a flight six days later. My husband Tom and I were woken at 4.30am on the day of our return to discover easyJet had cancelled the flight.
Losing mine was the final indignity at the end of a nightmarish journey from Malta to our home in Kent in half term last month. The problem existed pre-pandemic, too, of course - a whopping 25.4 million bags were mislaid in 2019 during air travel globally, roughly equivalent to 5.6 bags going missing for every 1,000 passengers. I pay £42 for a bag at Greasby’s, a graveyard for lost luggage It’s not just guilt I feel as I peer voyeuristically into the young woman’s case it’s fury it’s her bag and not mine I’m holding.
It is a deeply uncomfortable feeling, made 100 times worse by the thought that someone somewhere might be doing the same to my own lost case…įor in this summer of travel chaos, with mountains of mislaid luggage piled high at every airport, my own bag is languishing somewhere between Malta and Gatwick. I rifle through gingerly, picturing a young woman dressing for a smart city break - and then standing distraught at the luggage return carousel back in the UK as her case fails to materialise. There’s a fluffy jumper with metallic trim, plenty of warm tops including a soft Abercrombie & Fitch body, shirts, jeans, pleather leggings, a drawstring bag of underwear and, carefully folded at the bottom, a black Zara coat. I paid £42 for it, sight unseen, at a lost luggage auction, and am about to lift the lid on a stranger’s holiday wardrobe. Tentatively, I open the smart red Tommy Hilfiger case.