Subtitle: My bag had a better vacation than I did.
It started like any other trip. I checked in, handed over my suitcase, and watched it disappear into the mysterious black hole of the conveyor belt. “See you in Paris,” I whispered.
Spoiler: I did not see it in Paris.
Day 1: The Realization
I landed in Paris, full of croissant-fueled dreams. I waited at the carousel. Bags came. Bags went. Mine did not.
I approached the airline desk. “My bag didn’t arrive.”
The agent nodded sympathetically. “It’s probably on the next flight.”
It wasn’t.
Day 2: The Descent into Madness
I was now living out of my carry-on, which contained:
- A phone charger
- A book I never finished
- One sock (just one)
- A half-eaten protein bar
I wore the same outfit for 48 hours. I smelled like airport. I was one baguette away from a breakdown.
Day 3: Acceptance
I bought emergency clothes. A Parisian scarf. A questionable T-shirt that said “I ❤️ Baguettes.” I was now a walking tourist cliché.
But something shifted. I felt… free. Unburdened. I didn’t have to choose outfits. I didn’t have to lug a suitcase. I was light. I was nimble. I was… underdressed.
Day 4: The Reunion
My bag arrived. It had been to Amsterdam. It had seen things. It looked smug.
I opened it, expecting to feel joy. Instead, I felt… overwhelmed. So many choices. So much stuff. I zipped it shut and went back to my baguette shirt.
Final Thoughts: Sometimes Less is More
Losing my luggage taught me something: I don’t need half the things I pack. I need clean underwear, a toothbrush, and a sense of humor.
So next time you travel, try going light. Or don’t. Either way, your suitcase will probably have a better adventure than you.
