As I do not believe in Angels, or heaven for that matter, the angels did not laugh and it was probably an act of revenge when I left Zürich in my plane heading for London. I managed to sort of take the dream photo from the plane window. As I could only take my smaller point and shoot Lumix camera (being loaded up as a professional photographer with my Nikon and all the trimmings would have been a bit too much to carry), the photo is not perfect, but on the lefthand side you do see the Jungfrau, Eiger and Mönch in the Bernese Overland according to Mr. Swiss. I boarded the plane, got through customs and everything under control. There was one small mistake that happened, but I only discovered the mistake in London City Airport when I landed. I was so happy that everything went well, too well.
So there I was all on my Todd waiting at London City for my luggage. So I waited, and waited and waited and realised there was no more luggage coming. The thing we all dread had happened, my suitcase was apparently not on the plane. Not being someone lost for words, I enquired in rather loud tones where my luggage was at the desk. After a few phone calls and astonished expressions, the lady told me it could be that they did not notice that my luggage was still on the plane (which was just ready to start from London again, so no chance of a look to see). I was assured that it would be returned as soon as possible and that it would be delivered to my address in London by a courier service. She also said it happens everyday at the airport (what a reassurance!). I was given a piece of paper with a web address where I could check now and again (I was doing it every five minutes when I got to my domicil) to see how things were developing.
My friend and her boyfriend who were waiting for me on the other side of the exit phoned me to ask where I was and why I had not yet entered the airport like everyone else on my flight. I told them what was going on. Eventually I got out, making a few loud remarks to the staff in the lost luggage section. They said they had sent a notice to Zürich Airport and it was all happening, but they had not yet answered. I told them to use a phone and they said that would not be necessary. So I asked for the phone number and told them I speak the language good enough to ask myself. I started to dial and asked for the number and it seemed suddenly one of the luggage freaks had decided to call (was she afraid that an angloswiss would go beserk?). To no avail, no suitcase. So I arrived at my friends place with the request for some clean stuff to be getting on with for the next day. On the way to her place we stopped off at my dads.
I had not seen him for a year, but he was looking well for his age (97) and was quite able to have a good conversation. He lives in Dagenham, so afterwards I went to further fields in Hornchurch (if you don't know where all this is - it is East from London towards the Thames estuary).
The suitcase adventure lasted from Wednesday when I arrived, until Friday morning at 09.30 hours when it was delivered by one of our ethnic minority/majority. A very nice gentleman, smiling and happy to place my case in my hand. In the meanwhile the case had visited Lisbon. Now do not ask me why, but it was obviously a mistake made in Zürich Airport. I was kept informed by London City Airport by phone. A lady had called me and told me that she found my case in Lisbon. Unfortunately she was probably Asian origine and I did not understand the name of the town, interpreting it as Eastbourne. However, on the lost luggage site on the computer I saw that it was Lisbon. The case was delivered the day before to London Heathrow, but delivery was only made the next day early in the morning to where I was staying. Luckily my friend could keep me suppied with clean socks and other articles of clothing necessary. I quite liked the nightdress she gave me, so decided to wear it all the time. A toothbrush and toothpaste was also supplied.
A big problem was that my diabetes tablets and cholesterol tablets were also travelling to Portugal, but I decided doing without them was a wiser choice than putting myselves into the hands of the NHS (Biritish National Health Service).
I survived and am still debating whether I can get some Swiss Francs out of the Swissair for the inconvenience.
So that ends the first part of the London visit Chronicle. More will follow.