Luggage

I’m on the Thalys headed for the airport; it’s 8:55 p.m. and I’ll get there in an hour. I thought I’d use this time to tell you about my baggage. You already have a pretty good idea of the challenge it’s been, but it gets worse. If you read one of my last blog entries, you’ll remember that the train station in Brugge was being reconstructed, the elevator wasn’t working and a helpful young couple took my suitcases off the train and down the stairs for me. Well, what comes down must go back up when you leave and, of course, it was a little bit heavier after three days in Brugge. I stood at the bottom of the stairs contemplating how I was going to make it to the top, and decided just to go for it. I managed to get everything up two steps and I could see that there was no way I’d make it, so I tried to figure out how to get back down, when a man, business-type, in a suit, rushing to catch his train said, “Here, let me help you with that.” Then he tried to pull it up the steps and said, “How did you think you were going to do this?” Before I could tell him that I’d been relying on the kindness of strangers, another man came along, grabbed the other end and helped the first one up to the top of the stairs. Then they left. I headed for the train, which was about to pull out and started throwing one bag after another on the train when a third man ran over and helped me get the heaviest one on. So, now I’m OK for 55 minutes until I have to get off at Brussels, the whole time planning my exit strategy. When we started coming into the station, I piled all my stuff up at the door, and a nice young man who was waiting behind me said he’d help me off, after I asked him. One more train to go. I went to the Thalys information booth to ask if there were any porters, and this very cute, fresh-looking young man said, yes, come back at 8:15 and he’d call someone who would help me. He was so friendly and kind, it gave me hope. So I spent an hour and a half having a Coke, potato chips, and a banana and watching a little kid play with the automatic doors in the Thalys waiting room until I could go back at 8:15. When I did, he called someone as he had promised and told me to wait over there. I waited but no one came and I started to get nervous. He was very busy at the information booth trying to help people who had a train to catch, but when he saw that I was still waiting, he called someone to take his place and he came out of the booth and said he’d help me himself, and he did. My knight in shining armor. I wanted to take him home and adopt him I just knew he’d be good to his mother. So he got me and my 200 lbs. or so of luggage on the train, but when I tried to tip him he demurred, and disappeared from my life.

I’ve been so grateful to so many people on this trip whom I’ll never see again, It leaves me wishing there was something more I could do. Maybe the kid in the movie was right - just pay it forward. Well, next stop is the airport; then my challenge will be to find a taxi or a shuttle to take us all (me and my luggage) to the hotel. I hope it’s not too late for taxis to be out or I might be sleeping in the airport. I’m glad my flight is at a decent hour in the morning - 11:00. If I do ever get to the hotel, I should get a pretty good night’s sleep. Well, if you read all this, you ARE a loyal friend. Thanks to all of you who sent me emails - I felt so much closer to home.

Postscript to Luggage: When I finally got a "chariot" at the train station/airport in Paris, I put my bags on it, rolled it into the hotel, checked in, took it up the elevator to my room, pushed it into the room and kept it overnight until I used it the next morning to haul everything back to the airport. Desperate times call for desperate measures.