Well, that’s 50 Euro, two hours and a couple of years off my life I won’t get back. Despite extensive domestic and international travel experience, I made the biggest blunder of my traveling life as Marilynn and I journeyed to Dublin for five weeks of study abroad (her), research (her), lounging around (me) and a week’s vacay in Scotland (both).
A jet-lagged me left my laptop bag at the bus rank at Dublin Airport, not realizing my error until I was about one-third of the way to our accommodations. Although not an official member of Marilynn’s study abroad trip, her co-director had journeyed a day earlier and most students were on our flight. Busses from the airport into town are often crowded, so Marilynn took roughly half the students while I waited for the next bus with the rest.
Between counting heads and holding onto my carry-on bag, I left my black laptop bag under the bench I was sitting on. Aside from the laptop, the bag contained my passport, British money, prescription medications and other items important enough or personal enough to keep with me instead of leaving them to baggage handlers.
As my mistake became clear, what little color remained in my cheeks drained in realization I needed to rely on the students to make their way into town while I retraced my steps. In my panic, I gave instructions on where to get off the bus to the person who’d never been out of the US before. It all worked out fine, but what was I thinking? That’s precisely the point — I wasn’t thinking straight after a sleepless overnight flight.
After exiting the bus at the next stop, I had to download an app to call a taxi, which arrived quickly. The driver definitely sympathized as we discussed the odds of me finding it. Fortunately, the driver deposited me near the bus rank where I was fairly certain I had left the bag.
But was my laptop bag still there? Did someone nefarious pick it up? Did someone turn it into the Garda, who were now pawing through it and looking at things they shouldn’t be looking at?
The bag was right where I left it, just under the edge of the bus bench, unnoticed by other harried passengers trying to get to wherever they were going. Although black bags look like other black bags, maybe that was an advantage for me, as a bright bag might have attracted unwanted attention.
Despite my palpable relief, I now had to get back into town. The local bus makes more than two dozen stops before it gets near the hotel, so I went to the taxi rank, which was quite crowded. The second driver wasn’t nearly as chatty as the first and spoke with a thick Dublin accent I couldn’t quite get my Southern ears to comprehend. I nodded apprehensively at whatever he said, although I was not quite sure what I was agreeing with. Hopefully I didn’t join a cult or agree that somebody important needed to be assassinated.
The important thing was that my laptop bag was back in my possession and that our next Irish adventure could begin.
To Europe ... and Back 