I was planning a short trip, just a few days’ away, nowhere far, but I discovered that I didn’t really have the right bag for my journey.  My usual suitcase was too big; my little daysack too small.  I hunted around a bit online and decided the ideal thing would be a duffle-style bag, 60 litres capacity – seemed quite roomy – a bag, which all the online descriptions suggested would be useful for going to the gym.  Well, I certainly wasn’t going to be going to the gym with it, but it looked like it would suit my needs for my short break perfectly.  It had carrying handles that could be converted into straps if I chose to carry it like a backpack, and it even had a separate, little zip-up compartment, which could be used to store shoes.  I thought that I would definitely make use of that.  I even found one for sale on eBay, which was a tenner cheaper than Amazon.  Result.

So, I waited a few days in the expectation of the imminent arrival of my new duffle bag.  Waited, to no avail.  Every delivery van passed my front door without stopping to call.  After a few more empty days, I decided to check up on the tracking information supplied by my eBay seller.  I was in for a surprise.  It appeared that my bag was going on something of a trip all of its own.

Over the course of a week, from its starting-off point it had travelled to Preston, then on to Bristol, and then after that taken a short detour to Hemel Hempstead.  A total trip of something over 300 miles.  I felt rather envious of my new bag.  This was a more ambitious journey than I was planning for myself.  What did it get up to in each of these strange places?  What had decided it to pick these three random points on the map over anywhere else?

My new bag’s adventures made me assess my own planned journey in a similar light.  What did I plan to do when I got there?  Why was I going in the first place?

I am currently still waiting for my new bag to turn up.  I wonder where it will get to next?  Now that it has got the taste for a spot of wanderlust, the world is its oyster.  Europe?  Perhaps further afield?  Dubai.  India.  Hawaii.  Through its postal tracking reference number, I can monitor the course of its travels.  It feels rather like receiving a postcard from a friend travelling overseas.

And my message to my new bag would be similar to so many of those holiday postcard sign-offs:

Wish you were here.

© Simon Turner-Tree

Rather than wait for his bag to be delivered, Simon Turner-Tree might just go to the gym instead.