It wasn’t intentional. However, if you ask someone on Locked Up Abroad how easily intent can become immaterial in some countries – especially when sentencing foreigners found guilty of a crime – it’s scary to think about.
I’m typically a carry-on-only traveler, however I anticipated lots of baggage on this trip. With that in mind, I bought a 3-piece set of dark grey, wheeled, polycarbonate luggage. Snazzy! It included a large and medium bag (each of which would be checked with the airline) and the smallest bag would serve as my carry-on.
And speaking of baggage, it seems an appropriate time to mention I was also traveling with my husband, who will remain nameless (for his own safety). 😬
In total, we had seven bags: one checked wheelie bag each, one carry-on wheelie bag each, one medium-to-large backpack each, and one additional checked item, which was a duffel bag consisting of random “what-if-we-need-this-someday” or “why-buy-it-again-it’s-cheaper-to-bring-it” items. Of course, each checked bag had a bright red, metal, luggage tag.
After suffering through a head-splitting 8-hour flight with a painful sinus infection, we landed in Barcelona and made our way to the baggage carousel. I pointed out the red-tagged bags, he pulled them off the carousel, and we schlepped our way past security over to the taxi stand.
Unfortunately, the cabs in Barcelona don’t charge by time or distance alone. Instead, it’s both, PLUS a surcharge for each piece of luggage. Since then, I’ve also learned that not only did we pay an elevated fare for coming from the airport (which is common around the world, though annoying), but we also paid a surcharge for going to the train station. W-T-F?
This map shows two fairly direct routes from the airport to the train station. I’m 95% sure our driver didn’t use either of them. It took us close to 40 minutes (and 50 euros) to get from the airport to the Barcelona Sants train station, but thankfully we had approximately 3 hours to eat and relax before our train left for France.
And so we ate, and relaxed, and sometime during all that, I took off all the unsightly giant barcode tags the airline added to the checked bags. Later, as we settled into an indoor seating area, I moved the duffle bag off the top of the largest grey wheelie bag and noticed there wasn’t a red luggage tag on the bag.
There was no red luggage tag!?!
Albeit did look very similar to our bag and was the same size, shape, color, and material… it didn’t have the damn red luggage tag. AND now, after my clean-up efforts, it also didn’t have the barcode or any visible association with its owner.
Cue the Benny Hill theme song…
I left him at the train station with 4 bags (which was the most he could maneuver solo), then hailed a cab and took the stolen wheelie bag, my wheeled carry-on, and my backpack with me back to the airport. Yep, I had to pay to bring all those with me in a taxi, again.
At this point, I have roughly 90 minutes to get the correct bag and make it back to avoid missing my train. After a white-knuckle taxi trip back to baggage claim, I wrangled my way past a security checkpoint, then the large (stolen) bag was x-rayed and cleared for entry. I’d be writing quite a different story today if it had any ‘problematic’ items contained within.
At the baggage counter, one small bit of luck did go my way; the baggage attendant found a tiny sticker barcode that identified the owner of the stolen bag. They should be able to scan that, print out a new barcode, and notify the owner of its safe return. However, I didn’t wait to find out. After showing my ID and claim check, I grabbed the correct (RED TAGGED) bag, ran out to get yet another taxi, and convinced the driver to get back to the train station as quickly as possible.
Ironically, the lengthy layover I originally dreaded became my saving grace. I arrived at the station 20 minutes before my train was scheduled to depart. The only remaining hurdle was getting through security.
But that’s another travesty for another day…