From one bag to another

Last week I went down to my basement to check on something. I don’t go down there often – to be honest it is a bit of a mess. I totally forgot what I was looking for because there I saw my travel collection of bags. Small carryon with wheels for just an overnight trip, backpack for the plane, medium size case which has become my go to and an oversized mammoth of a case which I have no idea why I bought. What was I thinking of?

Oh – I was so sad. I sat down on the carpet next to the bags and had a chat.

“How are you guys?” I asked. “It seems like forever since we travelled together.”

Mammoth case “Well you got that right, lady. When was the last time you ever picked me for a trip. I don’t even know why you are hanging on to me.”

“Well you know Mammoth – you are a big lady – you might come in handy one day if I decide to emigrate – AGAIN! After all it is becoming a bit of a habit now. Emigrate from England to South Africa – emigrate from South Africa to Swaziland – emigrate from Swaziland to Canada – maybe a retirement emigration to – I dunno – Barbados – might not be a bad idea. Especially in view of the weather today.”

Of course medium sized fairly new bag couldn’t help but chime in. “Oh I remember our trip on Silversea Cruises. It was so amazing. The luggage crew with Silversea were so gentle and carried me up to your suite and laid me out on the luggage table so carefully. I felt so special and just sat there waiting for you to come into the room (which was amazing). I can remember smiling smugly to myself while you exclaimed with joy and ran around the room checking the bathroom and walk in closet and the balcony. My goodness, you were like a 5 year old at Disneyland.”

“Oh shut up” said Mammoth. “I am so sick to death of hearing about your special trips. You have only been part of this family for 2 years – wait my friend until you become old and tatty and then let’s see you get taken on a luxury cruise line!”

Medium bag sat and said nothing – probably sulking.

Backpack meanwhile chirped “well I go on every trip now that Mom has seen how much better it is to travel with a backpack on a flight rather than a stupid little bag on wheels”.

“Who the hell are you calling Mom?” said small wheely bag. “Let me tell you when she goes on a carry on only trip I am the one! So shut up! I have done a whole two week trip to Ireland and it was only me – all the way. Boy oh boy she had those clothes packed in so tight – my jaws were aching. But I did it. I was so proud of myself – and of her. Mind you I did notice that I never saw those clothes again. Rumour has it downstairs here that they ended up in the bin.”

Oh yes, travel memories. The excitement of which bag to choose, which clothes to pack, what to wear on the plane. Dammit – I miss it!