I’ve said it before but I am just not one of those people who travels well.
It doesn’t matter how long or short the flight is I always get off looking a hot sweaty mess. It fascinates me how some people manage to look fresh and smart even after long haul. I on the other hand–well you wouldn’t put me out for the rob as my neighbour says!
But my most recent trip bet all. I managed to look like a hot, sweaty mess before I even got on the plane and it was not pretty. It all started at the security check.
The sister in law in her wisdom decided we would only bring carry on. I have never in my life travelled with just carry on luggage. Not even for a weekend. It was a challenge to put it mildly.
When we got to security. I took my toiletries, iPad and phone out and put them in the tray. The young fella eyed my ziploc bag of creams and potions. “Are you travelling alone?” he asked. “No” I replied pointing at the three girls in the next queue.
“Are these for all of you?” He inquired, picking up the ziploc bag once more. “God no! That’s just for me.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve already taken half the stuff out”I implored. He rolled his eyes and relented. Thank you lord.
But something showed up in my bag when it was being screened and I got pulled aside by this cranky looking fella we shall call Bollicky Bill. He informed me he had to open my bag and check.
He sees the ziploc bag of toiletries and gasps. “You can’t bring all that with you.” Then shows me this minuscule plastic bag that I was supposed to fit all my bits into.
He told me to choose what I wanted to keep. “But I need it all” I said giving him my best puppy dog eyes. He was having none of it.
“He goes to take out my perfume. “No way! That was bloody expensive” I say. “We’ll pick something cheaper,” he says stonily. I reluctantly take out the sun cream, deodorant and shampoo. “That’s not enough. It needs to close.” I give him my death stare but he is unperturbed.
He picks up my brand new moisturiser and takes it, followed by my good serum then opens a tube of tinted moisturiser which squirts all over my lovely white top. I want to kill him. My leave in conditioner, tooth paste and body lotion are also confiscated.
“If you wanted to bring all that stuff you should have checked in a bag,” he says smirking at me. “I didn’t book the bloody holiday. My sister in law did. It’s all her fault!” I hiss before grabbing my paltry beauty supplies and storming off.
What goes around comes around Mister! Your day will come!