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| This unexciting picture is Harold's baggage ticket - the one they handed to me when he was taken away What's most interesting about it is that it is damaged. Was this a sign?! |
This was not good. Had Harold been accidentally left on the plane, he would have been found. Had he been mislaid at Paphos Airport, he would have been found. He had a baggage label put on him at the gate at Bristol airport. There should have been an email saying, 'We've found your baggage; it will be at Paphos tomorrow' (Saturday was the next flight in from Bristol).
So was Harold now dead in some drug-hazed dive in Tangier? Was he tied up in a corner while someone tried on all my clothing and found it wanting? Was he crying for his safe cupboard in Lion's office and all his friends and wishing with all his little heart that he hadn't wanted to have an adventure? I tried to visualise him touring the world with a cute little scarlet hottie but Harold was the kind of suitcase who would have let me know he was okay.
Heartbreaking...
The only really viable option now was that he had been stolen. Apart from his shock and fear, I wasn't feeling too good about that for myself not only because of the clothes I was fond of but because my laptop was in him. Now, you might be wondering why I had a laptop with me on holiday. It's because I have four email addresses all to do with different lines of work plus a personal one. As I'm a minister and I work with people with physical, mental, emotional and spiritual problems, their emails are wired so that they can only come into me on my laptop. While I keep off the Internet as much as I can on holiday (and always on Sundays) people often need access to me whether I'm away or not.
The laptop is, of course, passworded. However, people can break passwords and there was a lot of very personal information on that computer. And direct logins to my websites. And to my credit cards. The fact that GDPR was looming was not helping either... My ego was having a heyday with all that stuff for sure. There's nothing so bad a load of self-blame can't make worse, after all.
Another reason for having it was that I've been editing a book for a client whom I was due to see in Nicosia that afternoon. I'd intended to take the laptop so we could do some work in person together which is always the best way for an editor to work. She was going to pay me for that work too...
That laptop had never before in its life gone in a hold. Yes, I probably should have taken it out when the easyJet lady at the gate said Harold could not go on with me. But she said, 'Take only what you need on the plane,' so I did. And I was flustered as to exactly what I would want on the plane, I only had a small handbag and I saw Harold loaded onto that plane. What could possibly happen between the plane and the carousel?
I do need to say here that it wasn't actually easyJet who lost Harold; it was LGS, the baggage service at the airport. But easyJet had the duty of care.
So, setting worries aside, today's jobs were to hire a car and get a present for Ari. Oh, and sunglasses and some somewhat essential vitamins because that old shingles stuff was back together with another problem which I won't go on about here (there's loads about it in earlier years on this blog). Suffice it to say that a few years ago, I decided that I was not willing to live a half-life on codeine or morphine so I hunted until I found alternatives. I have a prescription for a cocktail of natural medicines from a consulant in Harley Street (I know, get me!) which works a treat while I do the inner work to clear the last dregs of the original problem. These vitamins etc. are effing expensive and include the fully-legal CBD cannabis oil.
So, that was important. As was the present for Ari. Of course, Ari didn't need a present and I'm only an adopted grandmother but any real grandmothers out there will understand why the lost embroidered slippers simply had to be replaced.
It was Ari's mother Natasha's birthday this week too and, to my huge relief, I'd put the earrings that I had got for her at a local craft sale into our hold luggage so they were safe.
The car, technically, had nothing to do with easyJet but was still annoying because we were going to hire it yesterday but were sidetracked by the whole 'vicars need knickers' scenario and essential shopping and it turned out that the car hire firm near the hotel had nothing available today. They did have the perfect car yesterday of course...
So that was a bus ride to the next car hire firm, but it turned out to be all for the best because the people at Nippy Turtle (what a great name!) were terrific and right next door to them was the most beautiful shop of hand-made goods and lovely clothes where I was able to buy a beautiful shell box for Ari.
Even better than that, the lady who runs it offered me anything I needed to help me out while Harold was still missing. I said, 'Thank you, but we don't want to buy too much if we can help it,' and she replied, 'Oh no! I will lend you clothes and anything you need. We are on this Earth to help each other.'
I must admit that I shed a tear then because I am always touched by the kindness of strangers. I can't find her shop name at the moment but if I do, I shall be sure to post it.
We hired the car and set off for Nicosia where we were to meet my friend and client, Darcie, and the family later on for supper. On the way, thanks to the Internet, we found a Holland and Barrett which sells a lot of vitamins and the all-essential CBD oil. Except this one didn't. Bum. I bought what vitamins I could and hoped for the best as we set off for our rendezvous in Nicosia.
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