This morning my roommate and I decided to take some of our luggage that we are leaving in Paris while we are taking a trip to our directors. Tomorrow we are bringing our stuff for the trip and we didn't want to have to drag two suitcases on the metro during rush hour. It all starts out well, but on the street that passes the parking lot to our apartment complex, I start to hear a weird sound. I checked my wheels, but I couldn't see anything. But the sound persists, and I know something is wrong, but we are already late. We cross the street and I turn to my roommate and ask, "Is something wrong with my wheel?" She replies "You don't have a wheel." Great. Fantastic. I turn back and found the wheel in the street before we crossed it. The wheel is flat on one side; well, that accounts for the weird sound. So the real question is what now? I decide to carry on because it will be easier than turning back and making a new plan. So I heave the suitcase over one shoulder and continue the walk to the train station.
Let me tell you a little about this suitcase. It is close to two feet by three feet and I have put all my books in it because I'm not planning on reading them in southern France. So it probably weighs between 50 and 60 lbs (yes, I am going to be overweight on my flight back to the states. That's what happens when you have a love affair with books). So the point I'm trying to make it, carrying my luggage the ten to fifteen minute walk to the train station is not the most fun thing I have done. Still, I manage to get it there, put a postcard in the mailbox, down the stairs, through the turn stile, and up the stairs to wait for the train. I turn back to see how my roommate is doing with her luggage. Well, she has managed it fairly well, except that at some point (through the turn stile?) she managed to bang her hand on something somewhat sharp and cut it open. It is bleeding quite well (she says it was gushing). Fortunately, I have a tissue, which she wraps around it and we continue on our way, riding the train, walking the moving sidewalk and escalators to the metro, up the stairs and to our directors house. Good news, she had a band-aid.
The adventure continues my friends!
I had thought possibly I would buy a new piece of luggage, however the shop that has luggage that I always admire is actually a wholesale shop. So, no new luggage (yet?), which means I get to transfer my luggage from my director's house at the end of the trip to my hotel room, then from the hotel room to the airport, then onto the car in Utah and then to my house. Fortunately after that, it is going to take a nice visit to the dump. And I think the airports have those nice little luggage transporter things. (don't ask me what that word is, my brain shut down after my final today)
Ah the joys of life!! Too bad I didn't get a picture with me hauling my luggage around!
2 comments:
I understand about the luggage. When I was in Germany, I had two suitcase, neither of which had wheels and one had a broken handle. Transfers were not fun, since I had to travel alone and usually with a bike. Sometimes I found a way to attach at least one suitcase to the bike but it was still hell since both those suitcases had my whole missionary life in them. On top of that I had a carry on bag and backpack full of books. My advice; just keep dragging the suitcase. HOw much damage could be done, right? And you're just gonna get rid of it anyway!
Wow, that is an adventure! Sorry to hear about your suitcase. What a drag. Good luck getting it figured out!
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