I Simply don’t know how it happened! That it did happen is beyond dispute, but how? I put it down to being tired, and in a rush; looking forward to getting home and seeing ‘she who must be obeyed’ and so on. Let me explain. If I can.
Picture the scene: Lisbon Oriente train station, a little after 1pm. I’ve just arrived from the airport and I have a ticket for the 2.09pm train to Coimbra clutched in my eager hand. I extract my mobile from my pocket and turn it on, intending to message and keep ‘she who must be obeyed’ up to date. Instead, I open my email account, as there is a new one, just in. It’s from Emirates and I almost don’t bother, thinking that it will be one of those ‘now that you’ve landed, please tell us about your journey’ requests. But I do and I read that my suitcase is still at the airport. I look down at my suitcase, the one by my feet. It’s here, I think. Then reality strikes. No, it isn’t. It looks like mine. It’s the same brand, same colour. It’s got the little Emirates tag thingy, too, but it’s not mine. There’s a slight out of body experience going on: I re-read the email, hoping that a strange, unaccountable blip in space-time has just occurred, but it’s still reading the same.
I email back, and explain that I’m at the train station; is there any chance that someone could bring mine to the station and we can do a swap? I know the answer, of course, before the reply comes back: ‘regrettably, no’. I take a moment to regroup and disconsolately make my way to the ticket office to exchange my ticket for the next train, the 3.39pm. I then go to the taxi rank and make my way back to the airport. In the cab, I call home. ‘You’ve done what?’ It’s not unreasonable, I suppose, as questions go. I simply cannot explain it. I eventually arrive back at the airport and make my way, against the flow, as it were, to the baggage hall, and find the lost and found office, where a lovely lady brings my suitcase. It really is the same, just a little lighter than the one I purloined.
I keep saying how foolish I feel and they keep saying that it’s easily done. They ask where I was going to from the station. When I say ‘Coimbra’, they look at each other and then start to laugh. Obviously, I join in, not really understanding the joke, then ask what is so amusing.
Well, it turns out that the lady whose suitcase I managed to take from the carousel is on her way to Coimbra, by train! Probably the same one that I have now missed! They are going to have to deliver her suitcase to her in Coimbra. If I had known, I could have arranged to meet on the train and do a swap. You couldn’t make it up!
Mike Gaunt is a former headmaster at St Christopher’s School, Bahrain
- mikegaunt@gmail.com