The Case for Carry-on

“I only do carry-on,” I told my niece when she suggested stowing away in my luggage on my trip to Turkey.

I should really listen to myself.

The last time I checked luggage, it didn’t make the connection in Edmonton and I found myself 1 1/2 hours from home, my car keys in my checked bag.  As I tried to explain my predicament to the very french person on the other end of the line, the only response I got was that, when found, the bag would be sent to my home.  Well that won’t help me!   I tried in french with the same response.

The bag arrived on the next flight, fortunately only a couple of hours later.  It’s been three years.  I never heard from  that airline again.  Maybe they’re still looking.

I haven’t checked a bag since.  Until today.

The young man who helped me check in warned they could be sticklers (my word) about the weight of carry-on at the gate and I was 2 kilo over.  It was a direct flight. I was there in lots of time.  What could go wrong?

I checked my bag packed with everything I need for another 5 weeks in Turkey.

I arrived safely at Nevsehir Airport.  Not quite sure where my bag went.  Maybe it decided to skip Cappadocia and is waiting for me on the beach in Antalya.

What struck me was the response to my plight.  The attendant noticed immediately that I was bag-less while all the other passengers were leaving, checked with the ground crew and then ushered me into an office where they took my information and provided me contact information.  I was then provided an overnight kit, stocked with a t-shirt, socks, toothbrush and paste, brush, deodorant and feminine hygiene products.

Which begs the question – how often does this happen that they just have these on hand?  My shuttle driver didn’t seem surprised, nor did the receptionist at the hotel.

No travel is without its mishaps.  The bag will show up.  I have everything I really need – passport, money, camera and tablet.

I may not have my “stuff”, but I’m in Cappadocia, which is something out of a fairy tale, I’m sitting by a warm fire and I ‘m drinking a beer.  I’d say life is pretty good!

And I will never check a bag again.20151216_102609

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