Loosing baggage and my patience

My first step in the entire trip to Germany began at home. Amritsar. And it involved flying to Mumbai via Delhi, and from Mumbai to Hannover via Turkey. So after crazy packing, unpacking, sulking, throwing out things and buying new things, I was all set with one big black suitcase, one traveling backpack, one laptop bag, one bag on the shoulder and one sling bag. Phew! Sounds like a lot, but was apparently nothing.

On checking into the Amritsar airport, I was told that a thru check-in would enable me to pick up luggage right from Mumbai airport itself and I needn't check it at Delhi. With sentimental goodbyes, I left, for a journey that would change my life. And it indeed. At Delhi, I checked on my luggage and I was told that it was 'all good' . I rechecked, after I was told sternly by my dad to do so. So, I did it. Again. And I was again told it was all good.

Anyway. On arriving at the Mumbai airport, my backpack found its way, but my big black suitcase didn't. Worried, scared and giddy, I was asked to go the counter and register a complaint. I did that, gave in all my details and somehow called my folks back home and told them. Frantic calls were made, I had a connecting international flight and things were essential. But the airline didn't seem to care much. I was stranded. My friends were waiting outside, hoping to greet me with love and all, my folks were getting impatient and all I could do was silently cry sitting on the iron luggage holder. The black bag, had my life. Well almost.

What followed was nothing but a desperate attempt to make things right. With relatives, friends and everyone trying to help, I was told that the bag, if found, would be despatched to me directly in Hannover. I couldn't do much, but take their word for it. After five grueling hours at the lost baggage counter, I found my way out. I couldn't do much anyway. I decided that it was time to leave, nothing would change .

The next few hours were spent chilling with friends at the airport and their attempts to get my mind off the lost luggage. As I went in to check-in for my next flight, an emptiness grasped me, and I didn't know what would lie ahead. It was a HUGE step for me. I was now a wanderer.

Somehow, I made it through my flight, trying my best not to think what was inside my big black suitcase, but uh, nothing was helping.

On my arrival in Hannover, I was greeted with some good news. My tandem told me that my bag was on its way from London to Hannover and would arrive by nine. My joy knew no bounds. Apparently due to some very grave human error, my bag was on a flight to London. But that had passed. Yay

But there was something else in store for me. When I came back to pick up my luggage later that night, no one knew anything about. I didn't know what was going on. The airlines said nothing was on the flight and no bag had come. So more frantic calls were made, people disturbed and questions asked. But nothing was there. It wasn't there. I had no choice but to leave. After running around all over Hannover airport for almost 3 hours, I got nothing.

I had absolutely no hope now. My mum called me the next morning, saying that the bag was now at the airport and I needed to pick it up soon. The airlines had sent it on the next flight to Hannover. But due to some major documentation that needed to be done, I couldn't go immediately. Later that afternoon, my mum called me and sternly asked me to pick it up (lets call it that) and the airlines had passed information that my baggage would go back if I didn't pick it up. I could scream out loud at that point. I arrived at Hannover airport, went to the concerned authority (after calling and confirming that I would be coming) and picked up my big black bag.

The bag that costed me my patience, my wonderful journey experience, my faith, and moments of immense helplessness. The loss of one baggage made me realize a lot of things and my first international travel experience one to remember.