12 September 2008
Dan le Merde,,,
It was during the long haul flight back from Aussie that I realized my car key wasn't in my hand luggage. This was normally routine, as what if the checked in bags are delayed?! Well, just what would be the chances of that happening today I wondered. Bad thought. Rule number one in Murphy's law eh... So as I sat in the que to report my lost bags I pondered over my options. Bus and be home in 5hrs? Taxi and pay 150 Euros?
Once in the taxi I couldn't help but watch the meter ticking over like a metronome. I got that deep stomach punch feeling, like when that big flash goes off as your driving 130 in a 100 zone! It gave me the inspiration that my friend and neighbor, Benoit, might be able to meet me half way. It was Monday after all and no one seems to work on Mondays in France! To my surprise, he was, but not his wife Severene. With some quick negotiations we were to meet just over the Swiss boarder. But yes, of course, with just 1km to go, we were stopped, as by chance there happened to be a car going the wrong way on the auto route just ahead. Right.. what next I thought. After 10min the meter was the only thing still in motion and as I had no idea how long we would be stuck here, I got nervious. Finally I convinced Sevrene to meet me where, I paid my 70 francs for a 5km trip, and things were on track again.
As my house keys were in the car, it was good that I had a spare hidden away for such occasions. Good on me for being organized! Once inside it smelled of paint, which was a good thing because it meant that my walls were now gleaming a nice new color and it seemed that my painter had almost finished. Things were looking up. During the evening I popped over to Ben's place for a drink and returned an hour later, dead tired as 12hrs jet lag combined with some smooth red wine. But to my surprise the door was locked. A few seconds of 'what the @@##' passed before I realized my painter must have still been there and locked the door on his way out. Of course he had locked all the windows and back door as well, so now I was seriously stuck. No more spare keys this time and no phone numbers to call him, as my mobile and computer were inside. Merde. After 30' of serious head banging and wondering what kind of an idiot i'd become, My other neighbor, Nico, reminded me that he had my painters number after all. Hallelujah ! One hour later and some embarrassing explanation later, I was back in my home.
Next step was to get my bag and key, so I could return to pick up my car, still sitting comfortably in the P51, airport long term parking. Good news was that it had arrived and would be delivered that evening. The driver called to say he would be there late, at 1am, so I told him I'd leave the form on my door, and asked that he leave the bag inside the door which I'd leave unlocked. With the way things were going, it was no surprise that it was not there when I woke up the next morning. I went over to Ben's to see if they put it there by accident, but no sign of it. I then called the baggage service and they told me that there had been a problem and the bag was now back in the airport. Okay I though, no point in stressing... I'll just make my training ride to the airport, pick up my stuff and be on my way. Before leaving, Ben and I discussed what else could possibly go wrong. I had my passport. I had money. I had extra tube and pump. I had maps. Nothing he tried to assure me!
The baggage guys were expecting me and showed me straight to my bike. Okay, great, good to know that my bike had finally arrived too, but now where was my bag. Hmmmm. After 3 guys spent 15' discussing the re-lost bag, they finally diagnosed the problem. My friendly delivery guy had (ignoring that there was no form) left it at my neighbours, but instead of just leaving it where it could be seen, he had hidden it inside a service room far out of sight. Meanwhile, when I called to confirm, they somehow mistook bag for bike and ignored the fact that this was never the piece that had been delivered in the first place! At this point I actually got angry for the first time and I poured out my best french sweat wordson the poor dude trying to mediate between an absent minded traveller and a 'too cleaver for his own good' delivery guy. Finally they convinced him that he better go back and get my back, as pretty soon terrorists would be the least of this airports worries! While waiting I went and realized my steam on the bike for another 2hrs. Then spent some time bumming around the airport in my lycra and road shoes confusing all the tourists. Then finally my bag turned up in all its humble glory. Phew!
Now this is where this story really should end, because I am not so proud of this last bit. But oh, what the hey, maybe i'll earn sympathy points for it and be able to use handicap parking from now on? So okay... after searching top to bottom in my bag, I realized the key was not there after all! It must have been lost. Facing the reality of now needing to break into my car, I went to airport info and asked for help. Soon after I had a rescue service on route and I was to wait at the parking entrance. But hey, now with all this, maybe I better just check to make sure the isn't even stolen as well. But no, there it was, unaware of all the chaos it had caused me! Then for some odd reason I just tried my luck and reached down to push the rear boot button... And yes, I am a complete an utter hopeless mind dead idiot. Up swang the boot and sitting there, just as I had left it, was my car key.
It was during the long haul flight back from Aussie that I realized my car key wasn't in my hand luggage. This was normally routine, as what if the checked in bags are delayed?! Well, just what would be the chances of that happening today I wondered. Bad thought. Rule number one in Murphy's law eh... So as I sat in the que to report my lost bags I pondered over my options. Bus and be home in 5hrs? Taxi and pay 150 Euros?
Once in the taxi I couldn't help but watch the meter ticking over like a metronome. I got that deep stomach punch feeling, like when that big flash goes off as your driving 130 in a 100 zone! It gave me the inspiration that my friend and neighbor, Benoit, might be able to meet me half way. It was Monday after all and no one seems to work on Mondays in France! To my surprise, he was, but not his wife Severene. With some quick negotiations we were to meet just over the Swiss boarder. But yes, of course, with just 1km to go, we were stopped, as by chance there happened to be a car going the wrong way on the auto route just ahead. Right.. what next I thought. After 10min the meter was the only thing still in motion and as I had no idea how long we would be stuck here, I got nervious. Finally I convinced Sevrene to meet me where, I paid my 70 francs for a 5km trip, and things were on track again.
As my house keys were in the car, it was good that I had a spare hidden away for such occasions. Good on me for being organized! Once inside it smelled of paint, which was a good thing because it meant that my walls were now gleaming a nice new color and it seemed that my painter had almost finished. Things were looking up. During the evening I popped over to Ben's place for a drink and returned an hour later, dead tired as 12hrs jet lag combined with some smooth red wine. But to my surprise the door was locked. A few seconds of 'what the @@##' passed before I realized my painter must have still been there and locked the door on his way out. Of course he had locked all the windows and back door as well, so now I was seriously stuck. No more spare keys this time and no phone numbers to call him, as my mobile and computer were inside. Merde. After 30' of serious head banging and wondering what kind of an idiot i'd become, My other neighbor, Nico, reminded me that he had my painters number after all. Hallelujah ! One hour later and some embarrassing explanation later, I was back in my home.
Next step was to get my bag and key, so I could return to pick up my car, still sitting comfortably in the P51, airport long term parking. Good news was that it had arrived and would be delivered that evening. The driver called to say he would be there late, at 1am, so I told him I'd leave the form on my door, and asked that he leave the bag inside the door which I'd leave unlocked. With the way things were going, it was no surprise that it was not there when I woke up the next morning. I went over to Ben's to see if they put it there by accident, but no sign of it. I then called the baggage service and they told me that there had been a problem and the bag was now back in the airport. Okay I though, no point in stressing... I'll just make my training ride to the airport, pick up my stuff and be on my way. Before leaving, Ben and I discussed what else could possibly go wrong. I had my passport. I had money. I had extra tube and pump. I had maps. Nothing he tried to assure me!
The baggage guys were expecting me and showed me straight to my bike. Okay, great, good to know that my bike had finally arrived too, but now where was my bag. Hmmmm. After 3 guys spent 15' discussing the re-lost bag, they finally diagnosed the problem. My friendly delivery guy had (ignoring that there was no form) left it at my neighbours, but instead of just leaving it where it could be seen, he had hidden it inside a service room far out of sight. Meanwhile, when I called to confirm, they somehow mistook bag for bike and ignored the fact that this was never the piece that had been delivered in the first place! At this point I actually got angry for the first time and I poured out my best french sweat wordson the poor dude trying to mediate between an absent minded traveller and a 'too cleaver for his own good' delivery guy. Finally they convinced him that he better go back and get my back, as pretty soon terrorists would be the least of this airports worries! While waiting I went and realized my steam on the bike for another 2hrs. Then spent some time bumming around the airport in my lycra and road shoes confusing all the tourists. Then finally my bag turned up in all its humble glory. Phew!
Now this is where this story really should end, because I am not so proud of this last bit. But oh, what the hey, maybe i'll earn sympathy points for it and be able to use handicap parking from now on? So okay... after searching top to bottom in my bag, I realized the key was not there after all! It must have been lost. Facing the reality of now needing to break into my car, I went to airport info and asked for help. Soon after I had a rescue service on route and I was to wait at the parking entrance. But hey, now with all this, maybe I better just check to make sure the isn't even stolen as well. But no, there it was, unaware of all the chaos it had caused me! Then for some odd reason I just tried my luck and reached down to push the rear boot button... And yes, I am a complete an utter hopeless mind dead idiot. Up swang the boot and sitting there, just as I had left it, was my car key.
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