The Tale of the Missing Backpack

As I wrote yesterday, my bag is missing. British Airlines didn’t deliver it along with myself to London, England, which has left me a little understocked in the underwear department (among other things).

Now how this happened, I’m not sure. As you might recall, I had made a point of checking with British Airlines when I checked in at San Francisco to make sure that my bag was properly tranferred from Alaska Airlines. They assured me it had, and would be on the flight.

Obviously, it didn’t.

I called British Airways this morning (and put into a wonderful-sounding queue — the British have a far more pleasant customer service practice than we have in North America, I must say!), and learned that they had found my bag. In San Francisco! It was put on a flight yesterday, and supposedly had touched down this morning, about when I had called. They didn’t know “for certain”? that the bag was, in fact, on the plane. Only that it “should”? be on the plane. Specifics wouldn’t be known for a couple of hours yet.

So the tale continues, at least until it magically appears in our hotel room.

Which I hope is soon, “cuz I really need a shave.