When I studied abroad for a semester at Oxford University in England, I did a lot of traveling. There were a lot of opportunities for something to go wrong, but I stayed relatively lucky and had some pretty good travel experiences. It wasn’t until I was on my way home, back to the United States, that I had what was probably the worst travel experience of my life. I piece of foreshadowing, I should have taken that travel insurance quote I received before my trip, a bit more seriously.
The process should have been easy enough – I would simply get on a bus from Oxford to London, I would be dropped off directly at Heathrow Airport, and I would then go through the typical airport procedures and board my flight. I had two large pieces of the luggage, stuffed to the brim with everything that I had brought with me to live there for three months, and well as the hefty collection of souvenirs I had picked up while I was on my travels. These two suitcases were large, heavy, and had almost every important thing that I owned in them. When I carried them from the apartment where I had been living to the Oxford bus stop, it was truly an arm workout.
The bus ride between Oxford and the airport was smooth enough, though a bit sad for me because I was leaving all of the friends that I had grown close to over the past semester. Who knew when I would see them again? My trip home was already a trip that was more sad than happy. There were a few tears on that bus ride away from Oxford.
Then, as soon as I reached the airport things started going wrong. I was to be dropped off a terminal 3, and we made stops at terminals 4 and 5 before them. When I got off at my terminal, the last one that this bus would stop at, I waited for my luggage to come out from underneath the bus. And waited. And waited. Until finally the last piece of luggage was removed, and my items weren’t there. I had seen them put my suitcases underneath the bus when I boarded at Oxford. I had heard of people losing luggage on flights, but on a bus? When I asked the driver he commented that it was possible he had taken off my luggage at terminal 4 or 5, shrugged his shoulders, and drove away.
In a panic I flagged down an airport worker, who made some calls to the other terminals and discovered that my luggage had indeed been left on the sidewalk at terminal 5. So since they found it, it should be pretty easy to get it back, right? Not the case. Since it was left unattended it had been confiscated, and they refused to hand it over to anyone until it had been identified by the person who left it there, who was the bus driver, not me. Well, that man was already halfway back to Oxford.
We argued and fought, and they continued to insist that I would not get my luggage back. As it got closer to my flight time I started to panic. Do I get on the plane without my two suitcases, not knowing what will happen if I leave them in this situation? Or do I miss my flight and not have a way to get home? After two hours of arguments, tears, and stress, they finally agreed to give me back my luggage after a thorough search. When I got my suitcases back I ran to my boarding area and checked in at 4:43 – with check in closing at 4:45. I had just made it.
While my luggage and I all made it home in one piece, it was one of the most stressful situations I’ve ever been in. And to this day, I always sit on the side of the bus where there’s a window looking out on where they unload the suitcases so I can keep an eye on what they are doing there!
