Before I venture off on any travels, I invariably perform the same last-morning rituals: lock up the back-door; make sure all the windows are shut; and throw away any food that will go off during the interim.  Any food, that is, except for any items of fruit.  Somehow, I find it hard to throw out fruit.  It seems such a waste and, after all… fruit.  You never know when it might come in handy.

So, to extend the list of last-morning rituals I perform before leaving on any travels, there is locking the back-door; making sure the windows are all shut; throwing away any excess food; and finding a space in my luggage for any left-over items of fruit.

On my last trip––to Spain––this took physical reality in the shape of three lemons.  As if Spain didn’t have enough lemons of its own.  That fact notwithstanding, three lemons got tucked away into a corner of my suitcase, and I then proceeded to do the exact same thing that I always do with fruit I take away with me: forgot all about it.

Three lemons travelled from Zaragoza to Segovia; Segovia to Salamanca; Salamanca to Ávila; Ávila to Toledo; Toledo to Cuenca; Cuenca to Valencia; and then from Valencia all the way back home again, where they re-emerged from my suitcase looking, surprisingly, none the worse for wear for their journey.

In the past, other fruit have not fared so well.  Bananas, particularly, tend not to be great travellers, IMHO; quickly reverting to mush.  One solitary apple travelled with me all the way to Japan, where it was promptly confiscated at Osaka Itami Airport.  My last sight of it was in the hands of three customs officers who were examining it with the same kind of suspicion I would have imagined to be reserved for an unexploded bomb.  But, to give them their due, they did give me the option of filling in a lengthy form so that I could reclaim it when I was leaving the country.

But even I know that sometimes you just have to say ‘sayonara’.

© E. C. Glendenny

E. C. Glendenny always makes sure she gets her five-a-day.