Ralph Oswick: A bad case of oversize luggage
I’ve booked a long-haul holiday in November. Don’t worry, it’s fully refundable if things take a turn for the worse.
However, I’m confident enough to have treated myself to a natty new suitcase, and I’ve even packed my sunscreen and snorkel.
I love packing! It comes from my days with Natural Theatre when one might return from a gig in Korea on a Wednesday and make a dash for Bogota (or Basingstoke) on the Friday.
There could be three or four teams packing at the same time, while the Mercedes crew buses revved up outside.
To save money, the team leader sometimes packed for everyone and met them at the airport. We used colour-coded packing charts.
A Naturals packing chart was a work of art. In fact, I’ve got one framed in my flat.
Once, an actor was flying out to join his team in Tokyo. He lived in London, so I packed his two huge silver cabin trunks. I offered to take them to Gatwick by rail. Silly me. A nightmare journey ensued.
After being delivered direct to the platform by cab at Bath Spa station, the dreaded bus replacement announcement rang out. Muggins here had to drag the trunks all the way down the flipping stairs.
The bus was a double decker and my trunks completely blocked the aisle. I felt the whole bus turning against me.
On arrival at Swindon station, I managed to get a porter (remember them?) to manhandle the trunks across the main line (Eek!).
On the train, the guard remonstrated with me for loading my precious cargo into his van without permission.
Why, they could contain IRA bombs he announced to the entire carriage. I was regarded with suspicion all the way to Reading.
The route in those days was a coach from Reading to Heathrow and then a second coach to Gatwick. A massive argument broke out as a complete stranger got abusive about my oversize luggage.
Terrified of missing the flight, I squeezed onto the very full bus. ‘That man pushed in!’ came the cry from those left behind. I could sense a lynch mob forming.
At Gatwick, the actor messaged to say that he was being held to ransom by his taxi driver for non-payment. I dragged the boxes to the rank and explained to the belligerent driver that the journey was a special offer included in the flight ticket.
Apparently, it had gone over two zones and I had to pay the difference. As the car was a limousine, this was quite a hefty sum.
After a mad dash across the concourse, the trunks so impressed the check-in staff that my colleague got upgraded to business class all the way to Japan.
Although he arrived safely, the blinking trunks did not! And guess where they turned up a few days later? Bristol Airport. I kid you not.
Customs wouldn’t release the trunks imediately as they were evidence of a scam, so I packed an identical pair of boxes, using the original detailed packing chart fished out of the bin. But this time they were dispatched by professional couriers. I wasn’t going to fall for that one a second time!