Losing Streak

I realise after three months on the road that losing personal possessions is a part of travelling. I’m on a roll at the moment. It started unnoticed at first with things like biros, socks and lighters. You go looking for them one day and they are just not there. When we flew to Fiji, we lost a whole day as we crossed the International Date Line. It was a Friday too, a valuable day by anyone’s standards. Its not just Fiji, practically all our destinations have claimed a possession. If there is a resting place for our lost property, that Friday is in good company.

Miami took a toothbrush, Hilton Head a jumper, San Francisco a credit card. New Orleans nearly had us both mislaid but we’ll put that down to drunkenness. Las Vegas’s beguiling slots emptied our wallets and yet I gifted it a towel. The Grand Canyon held us spellbound while it quietly pocketed a penknife. Monument Valley, not to be out done, took the camping stove. Los Angeles airport even got in on the act, hiding my diary. Don’t ever lose property at the boarding lounges, you’ll find you can’t leave the terminal to check the lost property office.

Fiji took us in, chilled us out and then sent us packing without the electric toothbrush charger. New Zealand enchanted us but then swiped not only the replacement jumper, but the digital camera too. Australia so far has captured our caravan’s license plate, window and brake lights. The caravan is old and tired and it may yet donate parts it feels surplus to requirements to the dusty outback.

Apart from the body blows of diary and camera, all other items fall under the biro-lighters category. A scratch of the head, a shrug of the shoulders, what can you do? After the usual period kicking yourself for not double-checking under the bed, behind the door and under the sink, each loss is quietly accepted. As I pack up my bag once more, I’m resigned to the fact that every departure will tax us an accessory. Hopefully we’ve reached the peak of this losing streak and we’ll go back to socks-in-the-washing-machine normality. Perhaps St Christopher as the patron saint of travellers is trying to tell me something. Travel light or you’ll end up losing your reason.