The EasyJet Blog, Part Ten.

Cyprus, October 2018.

We had a lovely holiday, thank you. This was the replacement holiday given to us by EasyJet after our ridiculously stupid (and funny) experiences over Harold, the lost, run-over, bomb-scare suitcase. See here for the start of the story if you missed it.

I've come to realise over the years that every thought or problem is where you last left it. So if you've got an issue with someone or something and you don't clear it up, the next time you come across a similar situation or person, it will repeat itself. That's karma for you.

For example, it looks from the outside as if I had quite a few relationships before I got married - but it was all the same relationship just with different men. I only broke my duck when I met someone on the other side of the world when I was having to live consciously every day and was unable to put up my habitual boundaries and defences. Even then, I'd probably have re-infected the marriage if God/the Universe hadn't had enough of my ridiculousness by then and given me a red-flag event to wake me up for good.

Those red flags can be large or small. When we were given our new holiday and our new suitcase, I thought it was all sorted both inside and out. But then, I managed to damage a wheel on Harriet, the new suitcase, on a weekend trip and that stopped me dead in my tracks. It was very obvious that I had a suitcase problem.

Except, of course, it wasn't about suitcases; as the wonderful Danaan Parry wrote in his Warriors of the Heart  book on conflict resolution: 'the presenting problem is never the real problem.' It just looks like it is.

It took a while to find the root issue, during which I did quite a lot of internal work about loss and betrayal (yet another layer of the onion) ... and not only did the nice man at EasyJet give me his private email address and a 24-hour one for emergencies before we left ... but our suitcases all arrived safely. Phew.

There were some of the usual annoyances: the flight out was three-and-a-half hours late and the one back an hour-and-a-half late but then, if you think about it, flight scheduled times really only mean 'this flight will not be leaving before this time.' It's all a lot more relaxing when you've worked that one out and we both had really good books to read and a picnic so it wasn't really any problem.

Technically, you're allowed a free snack and drink if your flight is delayed more than two hours but they managed to cram us onto the airoplane after an hour and 55 minutes and then we waited the rest of the time on the tarmac. It's really quite clever, that one :-)

There was one glitch when we got to our room at the Helios Bay Hotel in Paphos. Have you ever seen a more ridiculous layout for a kettle and toaster? You simply couldn't use both safely. Even if the cords had been long enough to put them on the top of the hob, it was cleverly programmed to go beep if you did that, even when the cooker was switched off.

Yes, you could push the table up against the cooker and put them both there but then you couldn't sit at it comfortably or use the cooker... We did move the table  but I got annoyed; it was pretty late at night and I was tired.

The trouble is, I'm energetically pretty powerful nowadays, so when we tried to use the toaster for a late night snack, my annoyance transfered and it blew all the electrics, plunging us into darkness.

Luckily for me, I have a Lion who had already noticed where the fuse box was in the room and who had light sorted in a minute and we began to laugh. But the toaster was dead; it wasn't just a fuse in the plug. Obviously I hadn't cleared up all that energy quite as well as I thought I had!

We work pretty well together, Lion and I. He always notes the practical things and I always locate emergency exits. That's because my ego worries in depth (Scorpio moon) and his worries in detail (Virgo moon). Between us, we can worst-case scenario pretty much any potential problem and realise that we are doing it which actually makes it easier to sort stuff out.

The next day, we got a new toaster and an extension lead from reception and proceeded to have a very happy holiday.

(Somewhere in this picture is a Lion ... it's at the amphitheatre at the Kourion Archaeological site which is well worth a visit).

So the moral of the whole EasyJet story, I think, is that when something goes wrong, do point it out politely, consistently and stubbornly until your voice has been heard.

But even more, realise that, if the problem is a repeating one, then you are a part of it. There's some deep self-fulfilling belief inside that will ensure that the situation is repeated and repeated until a true resolution is achieved.

I appear to be sorted on suitcases but I know there's plenty more resistance inside me that needs work.  But it's a joyful kind of work because the results are clear, and lovely and prosperous.

Wishing you a wonderful day.

The EasyJet Blog Part Nine (Resolution).

Meet Harriet. She arrived last week, compliments of EasyJet. No, she won't replace Harold in our hearts but she is very welcome all the same. And she is certainly snazzy!

So, the holiday is over; the refund for items bought or damage has been approved. Now, do I ask for a replacement holiday given that, although ours was certainly affected, we still managed to be happy and enjoy ourselves?

First, I had to sort out in my own multifariously-wired head why this had happened. You may be the kind of person who says, 'stuff just happens,' but I'm a Law of Cause and Effect kind of girl.

Was it karmic for something I'd done? If so, then no, don't claim another holiday. This was Justice.

Was it, however, Justice that it happened to Lion as well as me? Probably not. So, yes, do claim another holiday for his sake.

Was it that I was the agent for someone else's Karma? (that has happened before). If so, yes, do claim another holiday.

Was it going to take a huge amount of time and effort when life is about letting go and moving on? If so, no, don't claim another holiday.

I sat with this in meditation and the answer to why was so clear: I simply hadn't cleared up my thinking from last year's trip to Albuquerque to see Fr. Richard Rohr. When I went on that, I wasn't at all well and, to be honest, I'd thought the trip would be a major part of my healing. It was; but not immediately. So I was coming home, tired, a bit discouraged and bad weather delayed one of my flights which meant I lost the connection at JFK and ended up sleeping on the floor.

Being a vicar and all that, I had rather expected to be able to sleep in the chapel (!) but unfortunately, that wasn't on. So I was not at my best and, understandably, given the lost connection, Colin the Suitcase didn't make it home for another five days.

I didn't think much about it - but I certainly didn't clean up the vibration around it either. So, the Law of Cause and Effect would find it very simple for it to happen again. Nothing more than that.

So that was probably it but, even so, I wasn't entirely sure. So, the answer, for me, was to write just one, very polite, very short email to the head of Customer Services at EasyJet, outlining what had happened and respectfully requesting a replacement holiday. And then give it up to God.

I did just that, and let it go.

Within three hours, we had had a telephone call from EasyJet, apologising profusely and promising a new holiday. Now that's good customer service!

Okay it took a slight nag to get the follow-through but now we are booked to go back to Cyprus entirely at EasyJet's cost in September. We are thrilled.

And that's the end of the EasyJet blog in honour of Harold the Suitcase. Thank you for reading.

And there will be plenty more blogs to come...

The EasyJet Blog, Part Eight (To Complain Or Not To Complain?).

Cyprus is a wonderful place to go on holiday; I just wish we had had more time to enjoy it.

And now we were home, I had to decide exactly how much time I was willing to spend trying a/ to get my money back for the things I had to purchase and b/ whether to ask for a replacement holiday.

You see, I didn't want to complain. Hopefully, if you've been reading this blog, it hasn't come across as a series of complaints because that wasn't how it was intended. I'm a believer in the Law of Cause and Effect and I know that if you go on and on and on about something, you just attract more of the stuff you're going on about.

It's a tough call sometimes; you feel dreadful and you need a good moan. Well, fair enough, but there's an old saying that we should only complain three times or we will start to draw more of exactly the stuff we don't want. The more you complain, the more you feel like complaining and the more miserable you become.

That's why I prefer blessings and appreciations. You do those often enough and they draw more things to appreciate. And Cyprus had many things to appreciate including the amount of times that Lion and I laughed over the whole suitcase situation.

So the key for me, in applying for compensation to EasyJet was firstly to be certain that it was justice that I wanted rather than to throw bricks. Accidents happen, cover-ups happen - I've made mistakes myself in my life and hidden them, I have to confess so maybe this was just long-overdue Karma. But it was also important to make it clear that when someone has a duty of care, they have a duty of care.

The second thing was to work out just how much fun I could have in doing it. And that was slightly testing in itself! Okay, writing this blog is fun because I love to write so much that if I were shipwrecked on a desert island I would most likely write a novel in the sand. But filling in online forms? Not so much.

I might not even have done it had I not tried to contact EasyJet four times while we were on holiday to ask what I should do next and to ask for a replacement suitcase. No reply. Then I had an automated email from them36 hours after we collected poor Harold from the airport. The email said, 'You lost luggage has been found. It will be delivered within the next 24 hours.'

Really? You don't say!

I'm not a subscriber to 'rage against the machine' but this was just ridiculous.

Now, I don't have much clout (sometimes I really miss being a journalist!) and, though my workshop students might disagree, I am a bit of a wimp. I'm a lioness fighting for someone else, but for me...?  But I do have a big brother. And said brother is a top-notch lawyer in contract law.

I emailed him (he was in China or Burma or Bhutan or Dubai or somewhere exotic on business), told him the story and asked for backup. His reply? 'OMG of course!' It may surprise you, but that made me cry. We're not an incredibly close family and he used to sit on my head a LOT when I was a child.

So, I started the process of claiming for the losses and damage. You have to fill in a form that looks like this. And provide pictures of receipts. A tad tricky if you're trying to claim for something that was given to you for Christmas more than a decade ago but which is still very dear to you.

I considered contacting the friend who had given me the lovely golden silk chiffon wrap that was so badly stained but, on second thoughts, I didn't think she'd have the receipt either...  Luckily, in that case, six separate soakings and tamping with soap sorted the problem sufficiently because EasyJet were not going to allow that claim without a receipt!

Eventually, on a website that kept falling over and not saving the files (is this deliberate? I was beginning to wonder...), after two days of trying to get the damn thing to save what I'd posted, Taurean tenacity won out and I submitted my claim...

...To be told that elecrical leads were not covered in hold baggage and that £45 of my claim was being denied. It's in the Terms and Conditions, apparently. I replied, saying that this was cabin luggage not hold luggage to receive this communication:

Right! This bit, I was going to enjoy... Good old journalistic training! I answered as follows, taking apart their terms and conditions. I'm also including  my favourite text of all time from our housesitter (and I did apologise for her language!)

Result! All of my claim has been allowed.

Next episode: how do I actually manage to claim the money given that I am required to sign away all other rights to claim in any way, shape or form in this world or the next? That given that I am planning to ask for a replacement holiday? Stay tuned!

The EasyJet Blog Part Five (Nicosia).

The only thing to do then, was to put on my one remaining smart-ish outfit and head off for Nicosia. Fans of Harold, I'm afraid there's not a lot to report in this episode - but there is a knuckle-biting twist at the very end...

We had a fabulous time in Nicosia meeting up with Darcie Silver, whose book I've been editing. We met on Facebook and have become fast friends. 

Darcie's wife was told that her eyesight was failing rapidly and nothing could be done about it so they decided to backpack around the world on a tiny budget so Natalie could see everything she wanted to see before she became blind. The book's in its final stages right now and serendipity at its best meant we would both be in Cyprus at the same time.

Though it would have been nice to have had my laptop and have done some work together on it...

When Darcie's book Backpacking Into Darkness is out, I'll post a link to it here.

Once Darcie had persuaded me to cross the border into Turkey to see how it felt (it is different, just as crossing the Bosphorus in Istanbul feels different) and we'd had tea and a chat, we went to meet Tim, Natasha and Ariadne for supper. They took us to a taverna in the suburbs of Nicosia in a place which felt like a village square and where the owners let us take our table outside in the cool of the evening. There, we caught up on life, the universe, EasyJet and everything, noshed ourselves silly on mezes and I got tipsy because that alleviated the shingles pain. I don't think I was too embarrassing...

And then it was the hour-and-a-half's drive back to Paphos and a return of all the worries. The are so clever when it's the middle of the night and you've had a tad too much alcohol, aren't they? And the shingles thing means that I can't bear to have a very light touch of something like a sheet on my right side so I could only lie on my right. Pressure, for some reason is fine.

So I prayed and affirmed and relaxed and repeatedly re-focused my mind. And the answer came very clearly. 'Call the airport tomorrow.'

So I did, after I'd checked in to see if there was any news from EasyJet. I phoned LGS the luggage services at Paphos at 9.30am to be met with the response, 'Oh yes, the police are looking for you...'

The EasyJet Blog, Part Four (Still No Harold).

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?!

Another day, another baggage status update. No news.

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.

The EasyJet Blog Part Three (My Birthday).

I really, really didn't want to have to go shopping for a bra and knickers on my birthday.

Okay, I'm 62 and birthdays at that age aren't quite the same as when you're six. But I like them and I celebrate them, especially as there was a time a few years back when I wasn't sure whether I'd be getting any more.

We often go away for our birthdays because Lion's is just two days before mine and my mother's is one day before that - and if we're not careful everyone's simply bored with birthdays by the time mine comes along. I used to think that was acceptable but now I realise that my birthday is just as important (or not) as anyone else's.

Apart from the bra and knickers, we urgently needed a mobile phone lead because my phone was out of power and the only way to contact Tim about where and when to meet was by phone. The only way to hear from EasyJet was also by email or phone.

Now, you may be thinking, 'What about her husband's mobile phone?' Excuse me while I fall over laughing. Lion may be a brilliant publisher but he is also a troglodyte. He does actually possess a mobile phone (an old one of mine), but it is more than a decade old, contains no contact numbers apart from mine and it hasn't been topped-up in a year. It's sometimes okay if I'm lost and I call him - if he's remembered to turn it on - but that's about it.

Email was available via the phone or the laptop. Sigh. What about the iPad? Tim's not on Facebook or WhatsApp or Messenger. Can I remember his phone number? Can I hell! You don't nowadays, do you? It's all in your equipment.

So, Harold's fate, tragedy or adventure, was yet unknown. I have to admit that I did worry a little; he was so new and, rather like me, so gullible. But I had to let those feelings go if the day was to be enjoyed. I could only hope that he hadn't met a shady, trafficking suitcase who travelled airplane holds secretly looking for innocents to coerce into lives of degredation and horror. Harold would have been so excited if promised adventure and exotic locations. He would have thought, 'I'll have my own story to tell Colin and the others when I get back!' But would he get back...?

I thought, 'I'll go swimming.' Great idea. I love swimming.

Drat. No costume. There were bikinis at the tourist shop next door to the hotel but nowhere to try them on and anyway, I don't wear a bikini if I can possibly help it for all sorts of reasons that I don't need to go into here. I had another paddle and that was nice.

I couldn't check emails on the hotel's computer (€4 a go) because our servers are encrypted and the password's on my laptop! But I could discover that they allow you £25 a day to purchase essentials if your luggage is mislaid.

Bra, knickers, and mobile phone lead for £25 eh? Tricky. Still, at least if Harold was still lost the next day I'd have another £25 for sunglasses, a swimsuit and a present for Ariadne (yes, do please read that sentence with irony).

I asked for help from above ... because as a priest, that's what you do. And as I walked out of the room, I saw Edita, one of the cleaning ladies on her iPhone 5. I asked if she happened to have her lead with her and she did. That was pretty bloody fast! She fetched it, explained in excellent English that it was a cheap one and they only lasted a few weeks, but I was welcome to try it. Excitedly, I went back into the room, plugged my phone in ... and watched the 'charging' sign come up. Jumped up and down with joy and went out to find out where in a tourist area you could buy a bra and knickers.

Now you may be thinking, 'who needs a bra and knickers on holiday?' And yes, many times I've gone bra-less and commando - when I've got a long sun dress to wear! But not when the natural south-moving aspect of the older woman's bust is going to be annoyingly wobbly. And not when there's a party to go to and the only clothes you've now got to wear for it are ones that require you to be fairly well held-together.

We discovered, to our situation-led delight that there was a shopping mall a half-hour's bus ride away where underwear could be found. And, luckily, we went back to our room to check the phone before we left ... because Edita's lead had died and there was no charge. Bugger.

In the end, we actually found a Marks and Spencer's where I could get a bra and knickers I knew would fit. And the shopping mall had an iPhone lead (though not an iPad 2 lead). We ended up having spent more than half our first day's holiday - and twice as much as EasyJet was allowing us - replacing three essential things.

When the phone started charging, I received an anxious text from Tim asking whether we had arrived safely and a perplexed one from our housesitter in England asking me why EasyJet was leaving automated messages on the home telephone about lost luggage.

Had they found Harold? Had they hell! But they were anxious to tell me what an excellent record they have with baggage. When I checked emails on my phone, they told me again how very good they were. Well that's nice then.

We had a lovely supper (in bra and knickers - though not just bra and knickers and that was only me...) of kleftiko at a local restaurant, as pictured. And I had a good birthday because I was bloody well determined to have a good birthday. And maybe, just maybe, I'd get some news tomorrow. That was kind of important because I was going to be needing my vitamins or I'd be starting to be in pain.

Yes, I can meditate my way through the pain (it is a leftover from shingles) and I can alleviate and even stop it for a while. But forgive me if that's not exactly what I want to be spending my time doing on holiday...