On the island of Where-is? I have to get used to the fact that most things happen in the dead of night. Last night I was woken from a very deep sleep by the insistent blaring of the telephone-for-the-deaf, situated on the other side of the room. When I picked it up a stream of equally loud Maltese battered my left ear for a brief time.
“Wait. I don’t understand.”
“Your suitcase is here in Reception.”
Moments later, the knock on the door announced its arrival. Still mostly asleep, I threw on my well-travelled clothes, opened the door and muttering my profuse thanks, dragged the prodigal suitcase into the room.
So many labels, is it any wonder the luggage went astray?
Reunited once more, I opened the beast, expecting all manner of pilfering to have occurred. Not so. Everything was exactly as I had packed it.
Back to bed and some more sleep until daylight at the earliest.