European Vacation, Part Un

Four days. That’s how long I lived with just the stuff from my backpack. You may remember the last time I saw my big bag full of the perfect combination of vacation clothes and vital electronics and chargers was in Salt Lake City. Two missed connections (out of two) later, I was in Barcelona, big bagless and about to leave on the Liberty of the Sea with nothing but hope that United/Lufthansa might reunite my giant bag and me. It didn’t increase my volume of hope a bit that neither airline could tell me where the bag was. I got this:”The last time it was scanned was in Chicago. It’ll probably be on the next flight, chasing you.” “It won’t leave the US til you arrive at your desination.” (Huh?) “Whenever we find it, we’ll forward it to a port where you’ll be.” Riiiight. Ok. Remember, my bag was last spotted by a human at O’Hare Airport, my nemesis. The Black Hole of Aviation.

But, being a girl of action, we hit Zara and H and M to get an outfit for the next day (funny how I go all the way to Spain to shop in stores I ignore in Salt Lake City), and got to cram five days of visiting cool places in Barcelona into 24 hours. I love Barcelona. It’s one of my favorite cities.. I’m particularly fond of the work of Antoni Gaudi. To me, his designs make Barcelona a place of wild imagination and endless possibilities. It’s a Dr. Seuss village. We only saw the incredible Palau Guell. We’ll be back to explore more Gaudi masterpieces in a week.

But first, the cruise. Still no luggage, by the way. I’m having to creatively mix and match two skirts and two tops so as not to look like a bum (a bum on a European cruise, no less) for an indefinite period of time. Ship won’t wait, so off we go to Seyne le Mer, Villefranche, Eze, and Nice, France.

Some people turn their noses up at cruises. So did I, til I went to some amazing places with some of my favorite people. Now, I think of a cruise as sort of a headline service introducing you to places you can come back to later. Plus, between having to be efficient to see a whole area in a few hours and trying to keep up with Mel (my dad), you can build up the kind of exhaustion only a well-executed vacation can provide.

Speaking of exhaustion, I can’t even tell you how tired I was of my two shirts and two skirts by the time we got to Nice, WHERE I REALLY WAS REUNITED WITH MY BIG BAG! I couldn’t believe the airlines and cruise ship folk could pull it off, but they did. My well-travelled bag was waiting for me when we got back on the ship in Nice. (I always have loved France, and now, with the reunion of the century, if not the vacation, it’s even more special.) The bag had been to more cities than I had. Let’s see, the toothpaste, Moroccan oil, and contact lens solution containers were empty. Their contents pretty much soaked in to half the stuff in the big bag. I’m writing this post days after the reunion, and I still get a whiff of Crest when I take out something new. But even though some of my stuff smells like the stuff of cavity-fighting, I’m now ready to conquer a small corner (my favorite corner) of Europe. Next post starts in Monte Carlo, where I am one of the newest card-carrying members of the Players Club.