A suitcase is a girl's best friend, until you're separated forever, as Penny McWhirter discovered.
You should never underestimate the relationship between a woman and her suitcase. I am a television producer and regular traveller for a national public affairs show and I have an intimate bond with my case and its contents. It has become an inseparable private closet of familiarity and security with Magic Pudding qualities; able to produce an outfit for every conceivable occasion without being overweight.
![Illustration: John Shakespeare](http://web.archive.org./web/20170904082750im_/https://www.fairfaxstatic.com.au/content/dam/images/g/k/m/5/x/c/image.related.articleLeadwide.620x349.gkm6g9.png/1446100336639.jpg)
I look after my case and usually pack it with meticulous care but like all relationships, ours has not been without turbulence. My beloved has strayed a couple of times - once in Abu Dhabi and another time in France. Thankfully we were reunited on both occasions and all was forgiven.
Then, recently, I was sent to the Gold Coast and our connection was severed forever.
I should have sensed we were doomed but I just didn't see it coming. I packed in a hurry. I threw in all my black dresses instead of just one. I wasn't sure how warm or cold it would be so I threw in all my T-shirts, my favourite jeans, plus a couple of jumpers and a warm coat. I packed silk shirts, tossed in my runners, swimmers, goggles and cap for early morning exercise. I packed all my recently purchased makeup and my (expensive) blast furnace of a hair dryer. I even tossed all my earrings in because they were safely contained in a button jar. The list goes on…and on … and on. I am embarrassed to admit. I over-packed. I had taken advantage of my bag's generous proportions.
On arrival at the Gold Coast there was still no hint of what was to come. I even purchased some new items to stuff into my case! And when it came time to pack ready for the flight home, I stuck to the the golden rule of television - never put all the precious footage into a bag you plan to check in. We had filmed for five days and I had a couple of boxes of discs and a hard drive. I also had a laptop. So, to avoid the humiliation of airline staff with portable scales weighing and measuring my hand luggage in the boarding queue and then asking me to cough up $50 if it was oversized or overweight, I sacrificed my handbag and put it in the case.
I was booked on a 4pm but managed to grab an earlier flight arriving in Sydney just after 3pm. I made my way to the carousel in Terminal 2 and waited for my bag. It didn't arrive. I went to the baggage counter and was given a reference number and a phone number and told to go home. Even at that early stage it was a wrench to leave the airport without my bag.
When I got home I called the number they gave me and got straight through to a call centre in Manila. They knew nothing about my bag. Eventually I received a call from the baggage centre in Sydney and was told my bag would be on the 4pm arriving at 5.30 and would be couriered to me within four hours. Phew. By 9.30pm there was no sign of my bag. I finally got through to the baggage centre and was told my bag should have arrived but somehow was not loaded at the Gold Coast and could have been accidently put on another plane. To where? I asked. No idea they said. So I was back on the phone to Manila at 11pm. No news. They promised to call back to keep me informed. No call came. Early next day I called Manila again. I was informed that my bag might be in New Zealand with 21 other "lost" bags. What the ???? I was promised an update. Nothing. I called Manila again. So sorry we made a mistake they said. Your bag is not in NZ. We don't know where it is. I decided to cut ties with Manila and went back to the baggage centre in Sydney. I left a voice message. No one called back. For days. I remember leaving one message sobbing down the phone for someone to please call me back. They didn't.
Ten days after our separation I received a call from the manager of baggage services to inform me that my bag had indeed been put on that 4pm flight from the Gold Coast. But he was sorry to report that the security people had viewed CCTV footage of a stranger removing it from the carousel in Sydney. My beloved was now officially tagged "mishandled." Mishandled! Didn't he mean mistreated, abused and stolen! Oh and here's the rub: "Airline liability for mishandled baggage is limited by Commonwealth government legislation."
I wonder what the limited liability is for a broken heart?
No issue is too small to raise Heckler's hackles. Readers can send pieces of about 400 words on what's got their goat to heckler@fairfaxmedia.com.au. Chosen submissions will be published online at smh.com.au/comment. Please include daytime phone details.
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