Days 4 and 5: Plumbing the Depths.
It seemed that my faith was futile.
The next 2 days brought more of the same. I persisted in commuting and conducting the training in my black socks and sandals, apologising profusely for presenting a spectacle that could have had the fashion police locking me up and throwing away the key. (I am just grateful that nobody could see the image in the mirror that confronted me every night when I climbed into bed!)
Yet nobody seemed to care. Apart from the hotel, customer service was non-existent and nobody I expected to help appeared the least bit concerned. Another call to Air France on Day 4 elicited a sense of irritation and a request to please leave matters until the next day, when they would see what could be done. Meanwhile the hotel staff also kept pursuing the matter with baggage claims and greeted us at the end of the day with a sad shake of their heads as we walked through the door.
By this time I was pretty sure that my suitcase was sitting in the unclaimed baggage room at Tunis airport. This conviction was reinforced by a discouragingly large number of people with lost luggage stories to share; many of whom had been able to reclaim their bags only by going personally into the unclaimed baggage room and grabbing a case that they were assured was not there! We thus determined we would do just that.
Interestingly we were given the same advice when we phoned Air France on Friday. When, however, (hoping for customer service) I asked my colleague to insist they send someone out to meet us and help us deal with the Tunis Airport authorities, the Air France representative we had been dealing with told us this was not possible, especially after hours. Apparently they finished at 6:00 p.m., but she assured us we could go to the airport any time and make our demands as Baggage Claims was open 24 hours a day. Somewhat sceptical after our earlier experience of no reply after the arrival of the midnight flight, we had no option but to accept her word.
Accordingly, after completing the day's training and a final debrief meeting with the client, we headed out to the airport at 6:30 to see for ourselves. Once again it was raining heavily and the rain and puddles presented a challenge for this pensioner impersonator! Amazingly we were allowed through with absolutely no difficulty and proceeded to the baggage desk where it sounded like World War 3 was about to break out. One very irate customer (apparently annoyed after waiting for two hours after disembarking to collect his luggage following a baggage handler walkout that afternoon) was letting rip at an equally irate baggage claims officer and the two looked very close to coming to blows. We watched in some trepidation but the passenger finally stormed off.
Unfortunately, that did not mean we were about to be served. The baggage officer now proceeded to vent his feelings to his colleague at the top of his voice, while lighting up a cigarette. It was over 5 minutes before he was able to calm down sufficiently to deal with us, and we didn’t dare say a word while we waited.
Smiling sweetly and apologising for adding to his troubles, we explained why we were there. Whether it was this gentle approach or because he was still angry, he did not even look at my claim form but simply pointed to another room where we were to go. Here we were let in and left to look through the Air France section, where there were a surprising number of children’s prams but only around a dozen suitcases. Unfortunately none was mine!
I could not believe that after battling for a whole week, my suitcase and I had not been reunited. More disappointed than at any stage since first realising it had gone AWOL – I had been absolutely convinced it would be there – we made our way back through the rain and puddles to the taxi rank and returned to the hotel.
It felt like I was fighting a lone battle and, despite my persistence and everything I had done, I was destined to return home without it.