My husband has a thing about luggage. Women may have a fetish for handbags but Dougie can’t pass an Antler shop or the luggage department at John Lewis without touching up the cases.
Usually when we go on holiday we take checked-in luggage and seem to have acquired a myriad of cases to suit a fortnight on the Med or a short city break. I’ve just counted them:
2 x extra-big non-wheelie bags
2 x big wheelie bags
2 x medium wheelie bags
3 x smallish wheelie bags (all of which are too big to be hand luggage on a plane).
Hence I was told we NEEDED some smaller ones, so fed up is my man of watching everyone else’s cases coming round the carousel quicker than ours. Dougie is also hoping the purchase of small cases will discourage eager hotel porters from wanting to carry them for him. Woe betide anyone who tries to wrestle a bag out of a Scotsman’s grip. As he once succinctly put it towards the end of our fly-drive holiday in Canada: “They want a tip for carrying these cases for five minutes, with the aid of an elevator, when I’ve been lugging the feckers around for a fortnight!”
So please say hello to our new, teeny-weeny, carry-on cases. Sub-0-G, bought from Domo and apparently they are the World’s lightest luggage. At 1.74kg and measuring 40.5x29x16.5 cm they are small enough for even the meanest cabin requirements. To me they look like a granny’s shopping trolley, especially my flowery version, and they are so incredibly light they seem flimsy. But no, with a 10 year guarantee and made from parachute material, it will be reassuring to know that even if the worst happens, my case of treasured knickers and tacky souvenirs (or is that the other way round?) will happily float to the ground. Would it still work if I hung on? Dougie informs me this isn’t what ‘made from parachute material’ actually means as he lovingly unzips his new toy and fondles the packet of silica gel contained within.
I’m hyperventilating at the thought of how I will get all my clobber in this titchy bag and I may have to have a few dry runs before our trip to Madrid in half-term. It’s also occurred to me that we’ve spent more on the cases than if we had just paid to take our bigger bags on the plane: but Dougie’s playing the long-game here. I’ve told him I will happily book a few more mini-breaks so we can use our new luggage and thus save money…..!
The one case my husband has never upgraded is his trusty medical bag, a sturdy Samsonite briefcase. Fifteen years ago he crashed his car into a dyke on one of our Lincolnshire roads. He searched for some time for his medical case, only to discover it had smashed through the back window and hurled itself into the dyke on the other side of the road. There was hardly a scratch on it. His beloved case is also strong enough to hold his weight if the chairs in patients’ houses he has to visit look worryingly damp. The case can also fend off large, intimidating dogs and be surreptitiously dropped on small, ankle-biting, yappy ones.
I can still remember our old suitcases from 20-odd years ago. They are residing in the loft, filled with old baby clothes and my wedding dress. Ah yes, that faux-leather monster of a case, so easy to spot as it lumbered round the carousel, the colour of baby poo and held together with, you’ve guessed it, half a roll of gaffer tape. (Add to the list of “What Dougie Does with Duck Tape”: please see HERE and HERE)