Little Bag Lost Thursday 23rd June - Paris

It’s splendid to arrive in one’s destination with all the time in the world until hotel check-in.  

There’s even time to visit the loo while waiting for your luggage to arrive and to idly chat while waiting for the bags you last saw in Brisbane almost two days ago, emerge from the little black hole above the carousel in Paris.

One of us had bought some new fangled tracking gadgets to give our bikes and car keys an added layer of protection and to make them more easily found respectively, and for a bit of a giggle had put a couple in our bags while packing.  

It was mildly satisfying discovering in Sydney that our luggage had not been left behind and fun to receive the notice that it was “with you” when the first of them trundled up to us for collection at our destination.

The other one didn’t appear to be working quite as well though, as the bag location hadn’t updated since Sydney.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is how your jetlagged correspondent came to be sitting near naked in the small hours of the morning while writing this account, filled with fervent hope that his outer garments will have dried sufficiently enough by  morning that his fellow travellers might be denied sights unbecoming of a hotel breakfast room.