Memoires of an almost perfect honeymoon: Chapter One

Lost and found: Kuala Lumpur

No matter how much I love travelling, I always get a panic attack whenever I am travelling somewhere. I always catch myself checking the umpteenth time whether I have booked the right tickets, whether I have the necessary paperwork, whether I have switched off the geyser and the gas, whether I have locked all the doors, whether I am carrying all the necessary items and enough clothes… The list continues.

Ofcourse, all this planning never ensures a 100% success rate. Infact, I often find that I plan and plan and plan, but never plan enough time to actually execute all of it. Result: chaos and more panic.
This time too, I was quite nervous about every small thing that I could think of. But apart from forgetting to switch off the lights at home, I don’t think there were much goof-ups that happened. We reached the airport on time, only to find out that our airlines counter hasn’t even opened. We got good seats, changed our money, declared the valuables at customs and got onto the flight. A rather friendly crew greeted us and ensured that our journey was comfortable. I, however, being the fidgety self, hated the length of the journey… It was just five hours, but it seemed a lifetime before we finally landed at Kuala Lumpur.

It was perhaps the biggest airport I have ever seen. While my husband was happily soaking in the excitement and funfair at the airport, I started getting panicky again, this time about finding our way to the baggage claim and immigration. As a result, I never managed to enjoy the airo-train ride to the other terminus, or the festive decorations that adorned the airport.

Immigration turned out to be a smooth affair, and we moved on for baggage claim. We had already heard about taking KLIA express into the city, so I hurriedly bought the tickets… By then the conveyer belt had started spewing the bags…. And much to my disappointment, one of our bags was missing. We waited and waited and waited for the bag to come, and finally my surprisingly calm husband went ahead to speak to the airport crew. We were directed to the Lost and Found Department, where some very cordial officials came to our aid. The place was very comfortable, and people came in and went out with their luggage. I waited for a miracle, where someone would bring out the bag and say hey, we were just kidding… Here you go…

Ofcourse, miracles don’t happen… They took down our details, the bag’s description, and gave us a receipt. They also informed us that most likely another passenger would have taken our bag by mistake. They would try to track the person, ask him to return the bag, and deliver the same to us at our hotel.

My heart broke… This was supposed to be my perfect honeymoon… And look what happened!!!! My husband, ofcourse, continued to remain absolutely calm. The bag had his clothes… And he kept joking that this is his opportunity to redo his wardrobe…

On our way to the hotel in that awesome train, I continued to remain glum, while he tried to show me the brighter side of the situation… If you ask me, the brighter side is that I married him… had there been someone as emotional as me, we would have both been crying our way into the city…

Upon reaching the hotel, we narrated the saga to the receptionist, trying to explain to him that the airport authorities would be delivering our bag. And he says, “One of our guests brought in a wrong bag from the airport. Let me call them and check. May be its yours” You can imagine how my excitement rose as soon as he spoke… We both started at the elevator till the time it opened and two men walked out, pulling behind… Behold… OUR FREAKING BAG!!!!

I don’t remember dancing, but I do remember the stupid grin on my face… I completely forgot to scream at the man for being stupid enough to take our bag which had our name on the tag… I was so excited that I almost pushed my hubby to go to the airport with them and bring the bag back… (The rule is that if you take someone else’s bag, you need to return it to take back your own). My sane husband obviously realized what a bad idea that was, given the fact that it was late in the night and the airport was so far away… However, he did manage to send the bag-lifters back to the airport….

The very next day, the airport authorities delivered our bag at the hotel… It was a public holiday, but I believe that’s how responsible they are… Quodos to the airport authorities in Malaysia…..