In which our correspondent finds there’s nothing like being in unfamiliar surroundings to bring on moments of madness...
Have you noticed how the potholes of business trips are so much more hazardous than those of everyday life? The potential for making a disastrous mistake seems to be so much greater when you are travelling. Combine the pressures of work, being in a foreign environment and the fact that you are usually expected to be somewhere else within the next hour, and all it takes is one moment of foolishness to send you right off track.
Particularly scary is when it happens on the way to the airport. From the moment your mishap occurs, the pressure builds as take-off time approaches. I came to understand this on a recent flight to the US. Bleary eyed from an evening spent entertaining new clients, and caffeine-free – never will I skip my wake-up triple espresso again – I boarded an early train from my suburban home and had a snooze, jumping off with a start when I reached my tube connection for Heathrow.
As I walked down the steps to the underground station, an inexplicable panic suddenly came over me as I wondered – where was my phone? I spent ten seconds patting down my pockets before I realised that a much more important question needed to be answered – where was my luggage?
It was, of course, in the luggage rack of the train I’d just disembarked. As it glided off to London Liverpool Street – containing my slickest designer dress and jacket, I might add – I was left on the platform feeling utterly sick. And incredibly stupid.
The countdown began. With three hours to go until my flight, I caught the next train to the end of the line only to find my luggage had not been removed from the previous one, and was now en route to Chingford. So off I went on a train in the opposite direction of the airport and followed my belongings into the depths of Essex, where a kind ticket officer reunited us. I actually kissed him, I was so relieved.
Thus followed a £50 taxi across London (the prospect of getting that one through expenses at a time when we have been instructed to tighten our belts didn’t exactly improve my mood), in rush hour with the prerequisite amount of pointless road works slowing us to standstill. I didn’t take my eyes off the clock for the whole hour-and-a-half journey, my mind racing through the flight rebooking, meeting rescheduling and credit-card bashing this was all going to mean if I didn’t get there in time. Suddenly, the loss of my fancy wardrobe didn’t seem so important.
Finally, at Heathrow, I bolted through departures and security as fast as my useless legs would carry me – thank heavens for fast-track, which actually did what it said on the tin this morning – with ten minutes to spare before boarding. Collapsing into my seat, I have never been so in need of the welcome glass of champagne. I chugged it down, resisting the urge to ask for a second one, and vowed never to make such a silly mistake again.
Unfortunately, I’m not sure this is a promise I’ll be able to keep. This is not because I’m forgetful, disorganised or simple (and no, I’m not blonde, before the chauvinists among you ask). It’s because these fleeting moments of carelessness occur when you’re in unfamiliar surroundings, or are distracted by the finer details of your trip.
Perhaps that’s why I left a file of important documents on a table in a Russian hotel – because I put it down to take a photograph for someone. Or why my laptop once didn’t make it out of the overhead locker when I disembarked a plane in Asia – because I was too busy filling out my landing card.
In my defence, I’m an experienced traveller so surely a few mishaps dotted among all the numerous trouble-free trips I’ve taken isn’t so bad. (Ask yourself – has something like this really never happened to you?) But I will end with one more anecdote. Once, I managed to lock myself out on a balcony several floors up in Prague – in my rush to take in the lovely view, I didn’t notice the dodgy handle of the door. I asked the affable porter who rescued me whether this kind of thing happened all the time. “No,” he replied. “You are the first.”
Perhaps I should look into upgrading my travel insurance. Or keep quiet, before my boss refuses to let me out of the office again.
