For some time I've been trying to convince myself that I'm an adult and I should travel as adults do. Maybe "not being adult enough" is the reason for why most of my airport experiences have been as irrational as the equation in the title.
Based on my observations on the real adults at the airports I should have a small purse which only includes my wallet, passport, tickets and a book/magazine; a neat carry on luggage on two wheels for extra clothes in case checked in luggage gets lost or delayed; a larger, neat luggage (or two if needed and allowed) on two wheels for rest of the stuff. Of course the real adults also look always fresh and rested even after traveling for 28 hours.
Since 2004 I've crossed the Atlantic 15 times, and most of those times I've been everything but an adult. My luggage are not adult-like, for usually I travel with a knapsack, a giant army-looking bag and a smaller, stripy hippy-style bag which has been my dearest travel bag since I bought it in Germany in 1997.
The worst (or the most ridiculous, fun and memorable) trip over the Atlantic was my return from the exchange year in Toronto in 2005. Back in those days passengers could have two checked in luggage, each 32 kilos. Without having a scale at my Toronto home I packed everything and imagined that I probably have about 35 kilos in each. I was wrong.
The airport-lady told me that my luggage were 35 kilos and 50 kilos, which was unacceptable. With a you-are-in-trouble-tone she told me that I should remove 20 kilos from the bigger luggage into a box that she gave to me, and obviously 20 extra kilos would cost like hell. I didn't have a visa card or any cash, and I couldn't pay anything. I was afraid she will tell me that my stuff will stay in Toronto. Fortunately she had a moment of compassion, and she looked at me and told with a VERY serious face "Don't you ever do this again". I promised not to.
The next 45 minutes included unpacking the luggage and packing the box and repacking my knapsack (which weight over 10 kilos too, but the lady didn't know that, lucky me!); passing the security without a bigger hassle; repeating some of the unpacking-repacking-exercise once more at the gate and having yet another extra checked in package without a cost. Finally I was sitting on the plane. With my (clean) underwear in a sack and a stripy purse with a wooden cat statue in it as my carry on package. I was laughing so much that I didn't even have time to cry when the plane took off and Toronto was left behind.
After that my travels across the Atlantic have been more graceful, but something is still usually going slightly wrong. Either because of something I do (like forgetting my wallet at a desk or dropping my ticket before the security gates and noticing it after the security gates when there's no way back) or something that the system does. In December, when I was flying to Helsinki, Finland, the system would have sent me to Kinshasa, Congo. It was only after my checked in luggage was already long gone and I was about to leave from the check-in desk, when the gentleman serving me noticed that he was sending me to Kongo. Luckily (again!) everything was sorted out and even the luggage found its way to Finland, only a day later than I did.
When preparing my return to Canada I decided that this is it, now I will be an adult. No more over-weight luggage, panic, hassle or other irrational behaviour with wooden cats in my purse. On December 30, when I was checking in at the Helsinki airport, I could have passed as an adult. I had a large checked in luggage on two wheels, a neat carry on luggage on two wheels and a purse for my wallet, tickets and passport... and for two kilos of chocolate and woolen socks. If I have to behave like an adult, at least I will be an adult with warm feet and a sweet trip!
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