Long, long ago, it was possible to buy an air ticket to a city in Europe with a bonus return flight to another city included.
It seems incredible now, but a Christmas family trip to the UK in the 90s with Cathay also included an interlude in Paris providing a few days break, before sending us back to Manchester.
I was really looking forward to the city of lights. It was my first trip to a city I had only dreamed of. All went well at first. Our main luggage was back with the family so we could travel light and everything was as wonderful as I had hoped.
My schoolgirl French was tolerated and I took on the burden of becoming communicator-in-chief. All too soon it was time to return to the bleak north.
An early flight meant catching the first metro service of the morning to the airport. The ticket office wasn’t yet open and along with other early-bird commuters, we had to clamber over the turnstiles and hope that the inspectors weren’t on duty either.
Luck was on our side and we headed on to the shuttle bus. I had already breathed a sigh of relief that I would no longer have to struggle with the French language when my husband asked me to check where to get off.
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Down to the driver I went, gesturing to Mr English-speaker-only (my husband) to get off through the concertina doors when I signalled, and I would take the front door. The moment came. We alighted and just as the bus pulled away, I came the realisation that I had left my carry-on bag next to the driver.
I do recall a pathetic mon sac, mon sac (my bag, my bag!) and there may have been tears. A gallant Frenchman assured me that the bus would do a circuit and would be back within 30 minutes. It was and so was the bag – imagine that these days! We were at Terminal 2 but alors, a communication fail. We needed Terminal 3.
There was a breathless rush through passageways to the Cathay check in. “I’m very sorry Madame, Monsieur, but ze flight ees closed,” the airport staff said as we arrived. There were perhaps more tears … a welling at the very least. “Please come back tomorrow”.
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Anxious about costs, we asked if it would be an extra charge. “We will just change your ticket, no problem,” they said. “Meanwhile, may I suggest you stay close to ze airport?”
With a cheap hotel sorted, panic attack averted and family contacted, we headed back on the metro. We had the best day of all in sunny, wintry Paris and all the better for being completely unexpected. Of course, we arrived at check-in the next day with plenty of time to spare and a story to tell.