A traveler comes up to the airline ticket desk and shows his voucher for his flight. Once his flight is confirmed, he asks that his three bags go to separate cities. One to New York City, one to Toledo, and the last one to London.
The astounded ticket agent says, “We can't do that, sir.”
The traveler responds, "YOU DID THAT TO ME LAST MONTH."
I used to think that this was kind of funny until our recent trip to Mexico.
It was a very fast, smooth, nonstop flight from dreary Boston to sunny Cancun on Jet Blue. Four hours and a half and you are there. Seventeen flights had landed very close to one another, time-wise, and security was overwhelmed. We have been flying to Cancun since 1985 and had never seen it this busy. To make matters worse, my bag was nowhere to be found and there was drenching tropical rain to get through, to our transport.
Tom and Eileen Sandy and I had a two-week trip all planned out. First we would stay on the Mexican island of Holbox (hole-bush) which is two and a half hours north of Cancun in the Gulf of Mexico. Then after four days there, we would travel down to Puerto Juarez, south of Punta Sam, and across the bay to la Isla Mujeres -- eight beautiful miles out into the Windex-blue ocean.
Perhaps I have mentioned this little piece of heaven in the past.
At least it was only MY bag out of the four that was missing, and not Sandy's. We filled out the forms and gave all the information to two Mexican Cancun Airport employees. They were sure that my bag would arrive the very next day from Boston, and they assured me they would get it to me at Isla Holbox that same day. It is a complicated trip to Isla Holbox, involving a van, a boat, and a golf cart, with around six hours of someone’s time and trouble round-trip.
We waited. And we waited. Our hotel had no news to report. Finally we asked the front desk to call the telephone numbers that we were given at the Cancun Aeropuerto. Not only couldn't we find someone who spoke English -- no one even answered the phone. The third day they tried again and did reach someone who would look in to it. Then Tom contacted our daughter Kezia, who jumped on the problem from the US. She was assured that they would find it and EXPEDITE it to me at Holbox. Expedite means “like, immediately” doesn't it?
Playa Holbox on the Gulf of Mexico
The name of the hotel on Isla Holbox was Paradicio del Mar. It lived up to its name. It is, in fact, on the beach, and it is a paradise with white sandy playas and tons of green palm trees. It cost $108 US dollars per night, and had a fabulous desayunos to start every day. Eggs cooked to order, pans full of tocino, quesadillas, hot cakes with maple syrup or honey, smoothies, fresh juice, yogurt, pan, home fries, postres, fruits, and this is all included in the $108. Pretty much we were the only norteamericanos there. You need to say “norteamericanos” because there is another Americano to the south called South America.
A bird on the playa
The next afternoon, hearing nothing and still dressed in the clothes I was wearing when we started the trip, I went back to the front desk at the hotel. They called again to Cancun. Fernando answered with good(?) news. They found my bag and it was in ARUBA. It appears that Aruba has a strict policy, and will not send a piece of luggage without a passenger attached. It is a 9/11 thing. So how did my bag get to Aruba by itself from the United States?
Fernando said further that they will ship it EXPEDITIOUSLY by Parcel Post to New York City, and then to Cancun, and on to Holbox by van and boat and golf cart to our hotel in a day or two at the most. Why NYC? No one seems to know. I think that Miami is closer. It is in Florida. Or how about this idea -- send it directly to Cancun. Daah!
We make the most of it with jokes such as, "We could play Polish Pitch tonight but the playing cards are in the red bag," or “I am looking forward to smoking a cigar tonight . . . but damn, they are in the red bag." One day I rolled up my long pants so that I wouldn't look like a just-arriving tourist.
Waiting patiently in pink shirt and green pants.
Tom had a fresh t-shirt for me to wear. It was a pink Club Bacon party shirt from 2006 and did not go really well with my green pants. One day I wore my original traveling shirt, but I rolled up the sleeves just to look different. "Sorry my clothes are so wrinkled but the travel iron is in the red bag." One of the most pleasant things about a winter vacation away from New England is changing out of your boots and socks and into your Tevas, but they were . . .
No news for the last twenty-four hours. The hotel people know us well by this point. Nicole, for instance, is from EEtaly. close to Venezia. She came here for a visit twelve years ago and never left. You hear stories like hers all the time on these islands.
Then we get a message that the bag will be arriving the next day! The problem is we won't be here the next day. Eventually it arrives at our hotel, Maria Del Mar Cabanas, on Isla Mujeres. Attached to the red bag is the baggage tag that says clearly CANCUN FLIGHT 771.
Welcoming my bag after 7 days.
In the year 2000, Sandy and I had a whirlwind trip that started in Boston, went to Albuquerque by way of somewhere. In Albuquerque we attended the wedding of our friends Kathy and Charles Gregory. They had asked us to go on their honeymoon with them to Isla Mujeres. This was the second honeymoon that we had been invited on so far. After Isla, they flew back to New Mexico. We flew west also, but to the Mexican city of Merida -- especially to explore the Mayan ruins at Uxmal (Oo-sh-mal). On the way from Merida back to Boston via Cancun, on Mexicana Airlines, one of our bags disappeared. It went ninety-eight miles east of Cancun to an island called CUBA. It is a foreign country that has hated us since 1898. "Remember the Maine, To Hell with Spain." Bonnie and her husband Ariel from SeaHawk Divers on Isla go there for the music occasionally. She is Canadian and he is Mexican, from Vera Cruz. She came to Isla for vacation and never left. Bera Cruz as in "Baseball has been bery bery good to me." Luis Tiant, former Boston Red Sox pitcher and a native of Coobah, said it. (NOT SIC) Luis and his wife, who is Mexican, can be seen regularly at El Sarape Restaurant in Braintree, Massachusetts. But I digress and it is not like me.
I bought a luggage strap that says “Cuba” on it. People ask if we have been to Cuba. We reply, "No but one of our bags has." Tomorrow I will shop for an “Aruba” luggage strap.
The customs agent at Logan found our story entertaining but he had a better one. A week ago at Logan there was a flight going to Cleveland and another one going to Pittsburg. All the luggage for the Cleveland flight was put on the Pittsburg plane, and all the Cleveland luggage was put on the Pittsburg plane. Can you imagine what it must have taken to straighten out that mess?
I don't think that it made the news because no one would believe it. Because . . . You. Can't. Make. Up. Stuff. Like. This.
On my honor, as a Grandfather, I declare all the above to be the truth,
Your friend,
Abuelo Roberto Francisco Tocino, Honorary President of the Island of Women
p.s. Skytrax says JetBlue is rated 4 stars out of 5.
p.p.s. Do you have a lost/stolen luggage story?
Isla Holbox from the air, heading back to Boston. Holbox is 26 miles long with 1762 inhabitants.
