The Written Podcast: Where's My Luggage?

I was going to make this article part 16 of my New York trip, and yes, the topic I’m going to write about is still a part of that holiday as I was still at Heathrow at the time and haven’t gone home yet. That was my original intention, to write about everything that happened from the moment I left my front door to stepping back through, as one big series, but as I was writing these articles, I wondered if what happened at Heathrow airport needed to be included within the series, but instead just be written about as normal articles. My holiday started when I got on the coach at Ipswich, and ended when I got off the plane at Heathrow, because from that point forward, it didn’t feel like a holiday, but instead just another day with different stuff happening.

I was tired and uncomfortable from trying to sleep for hours, and all I wanted to do was get home so I can have the pleasure of collapsing on the sofa. But first, I needed to go and collect my luggage from the conveyor belts. I didn’t write about collecting my luggage at the beginning of the holiday, because nothing extraordinary happened. By the time I got through customs, the bags had already come out from behind the rubber curtain and lifted off the conveyor belt by the staff so they wouldn’t keep going round and round, allowing me to go and find my suitcase and then walk out of the airport with it. I didn’t have to wait for my suitcase unlike what I had to do back here in England.

Due to being an English citizen, there wasn’t much fuss when it came to checking my passport - it was merely but a quick glance to determine that I looked like my picture and handed it back to me so I can continue on my way. Due to the speedy process, I was by the conveyor belts before the suitcases had started coming through.

Side note: Have you ever had to walk what felt like miles right after sitting still for 7 and a half hours? That’s what I had to do, and my legs were stiff, my knee was aching, and I genuinely felt like I couldn’t be bothered to walk the distance, but the thought of walking in through my front door and sitting on my sofa carried me forward.

Have you ever waited for something? Of course you have, so let’s pad out the question with more detail. Have you ever acknowledged that time goes incredibly slowly when you’re waiting for something to happen? They say water doesn’t boil if you stand and wait for it to, which basically means if you’re waiting for it to boil, you’ll be surprised just how long it takes because all the other times before you were keeping yourself occupied with something, creating the illusion that time is going quicker and before you know it the water has boiled over the rim of the pot and spilling onto the hobs of the cooker. Change a pot full of water to a conveyor belt at an airport and you’ll be forced to acknowledge just how long it takes for them to process everyone’s suitcases so they can come out through the rubber curtain. The entire plane gathered around waiting for the suitcases to come out, and some of these people were rather desperate considering they’ve got connections to make - connections that were rearranged due to the plane being late. The last thing they wanted to do was miss their connection a second time, and from how long it’s taking for everyone’s luggage to appear, a few people were getting agitated and nervous.

Eventually, one by one, suitcases started to appear. People collected their belongings and disappeared. A conveyor belt goes at a steady pace so it’s easy for people to spot theirs and pick it up without hassle. Because I was keeping an eagle eye out for my suitcase, each one which came out I unintentionally took note of and logged them in my memory.

But, even though my memory was still functioning decently enough to remember suitcases, I was still incredibly tired and exhausted, and all I wanted to do was get home. The two mixed: tiredness infected my memory, which meant when the same suitcases started to reappear and mine hadn’t surfaced yet, I was beginning to get nervous. The more suitcases I saw reappear, the more nervous I became and started thinking the worst: that they had lost my suitcase. It does happen, but you never think it’ll happen to you. One by one, people collected their suitcases, even the ones which have gone round three times were plucked from the belt and disappeared, leaving me, one of the first people to arrive, waiting and waiting and waiting, growing increasingly paranoid that something terrible happened to my suitcase.

And then it appeared. It wasn’t the case of it had gone round once before, or it took me a while to acknowledge that it was mine, I knew immediately and picked it up like I was stealing someone else’s and walked briskly towards the National Express desk where I knew I had to let them know I’ve missed my pre-booked coach and needed to arrange another. That’s another entire article in of itself, and will be next week.

But it’s crazy how tiredness and make you nervous. Seeing the same suitcases go round the conveyor belt three times, each time becoming increasingly adamant that they’ve lost mine; looking back at it as I write this article, I genuinely couldn’t bring myself to believe anything else. I checked in at JFK airport very early - probably one of the first people to check in for my particular flight so logically my suitcase would be among the first to be boarded on the plane and therefore be put at the back, which would then mean it would be among the last to be unpacked from the plane and placed on the conveyor belt for me to pick up my end… but due to being tired and irritable, I saw only paranoia and nervousness; all that logic went out the window.

But, I retrieved my suitcase, I was one step closer to sitting on that sofa.

Thanks for reading

Antony Hudson

(TonyHadNouns)