“We are sorry but your suitcase did not get put on the plane in Berlin…”
The words that no traveller wants to hear. You are in one part of the world, and all your clothes, toiletries, and irreplaceable souvenirs are somewhere else, unattended and at the mercy of baggage handlers and an incompetent airline. I was assured that my case would get put on the morning flight the next day, and then the airport would call me to arrange delivering it to the apartment I was staying at in Barcelona. So I had nothing to do except go and check in, then wander down to the sea front to check out the beach, and buy a toothbrush on the way back so I could at least brush my teeth that night.
My case did get delivered the next day – but not until 8pm, by which time I’d already wasted most of the day sticking close to the apartment in case the phone rang at any moment to say they were on their way with my stuff. Which gave me a day and a half to enjoy what was left of my time in Barcelona. Luckily, a few local Spanish men were around to help me out with that, and the rest of the time passed in a blur of sweaty bodies.
On Friday my best friend arrived in Barcelona from London to travel with me down the coast to my parents’ villa. We both moved to London ten years ago this week, and when she asked me a few months ago what our plans were to celebrate, I invited her to join me on the last leg of my travels and spend a couple of days lazing around by the pool.
Today is her last day here, before she flies back to London tomorrow. I have another few days here by myself to unwind, before I get back to London on Thursday afternoon. There’s still plenty to do, though of course it’s a lot more fun doing it with a glass of wine by the pool!