Another year, another pair of wheelie-bag wheels worn through; another disbelieving response when I apply for a refund against my guarantee.  This time, it was on the platform of Tring railway station where my bag’s wheels finally gave up the ghost; this time, the manufacturer wanted me to send the entire bag back to them ‘for analysis’.  Preposterous!

Bored of this annual stand-off, I decide to look for an alternative solution.

And I may have found one.

The rest of my suitcase is perfectly serviceable; as always, it is only the wheels, which prove a constant point of weakness.  If I could just replace the wheels…

With some of my earlier cases, the wheel attachment had been moulded as an integral part of the case itself, and so could not be replaced.  However, my current case is a different proposition.  Carefully unzipping the inner fabric lining––revealing a smuggler’s dream hidden compartment––I discovered that the wheels were simply screwed through the hard outer fabric of the case.  If I could find replacement wheels to fit the same dimensions…

When in need, turn to Amazon.  And, as always, Amazon supplied.  Three days later––and still resisting Prime’s next day delivery––a small parcel appeared on my doorstep, and I set to the task of repairing my broken wheelie-bag.

Phillips-head screwdriver in hand, the job of removing the useless, old wheels was relatively easy.  Attaching the new ones was no much more difficult, although it required slightly more precision lining-up and much swearing.

Fifteen minutes, a slightly sore palm, and my wheelie-bag was as good as new.  Better even.  The new wheels looked more robust and sturdy than the old ones; more made of the right stuff. Make do and mend. I feel like I have stuck up two fingers at big business’ consumerist strategy of planned obsolescence.

Or have I?

Always, at the back of my mind, there will be a nagging doubt surrounding my own workmanship.  Will the bag ever be as good as when it first rolled off the production line of the original manufacturers?  Have I unwittingly committed some DIY faux pas, which will only manifest itself when I embark on my next travels? 

Only Time will tell.  My newly-repaired wheelie-bag may last for five years, or a wayward wheel may roll off on my first outing out-of-doors.  Whatever, in case I ever need to make running repairs, I may make a Phillips-head screwdriver my constant travelling companion.

© E. C. Glendenny

E. C. Glendenny likes to always be prepared.