CheerioooOH NO my laptop is gone.

Leaving my purse with all my cash at a pay phone in Sevilla. Booking my flight home from San Juan TWO weeks later than my husband (found this out at the airport when I couldn’t check in). Missing my fight by 3 minutes because I just wanted one more sushi roll in Miami. Crashing my 4-wheeler in Mexican sand dunes. Twice. All things I’ve actually done. #survivor. And my trip to Africa didn’t ‘disappoint’ as I can now add another heart-stopping story to the list.

After a relaxing afternoon spent napping and lounging in my London hotel room (a day room at the Sofitel London Heathrow) we headed to the airport. The hotel is just a 20 minute cab ride to Terminal 3 where my flight that evening would depart. It was such a perk having that day room and getting to shower and lallygag around all afternoon. But we quickly rushed out in hopes we could grab a pint in the lounge preflight. Lounges mean you get to avoid terrifying airport food.

My flight that evening to Cape Town, South Africa would depart at 6:10pm.

4:41pm. I neared the security belt and bent over to grab my computer out of the assigned pocket in my carry-on backpack and place it on the tray table. S#@T. It wasn’t in there. Panic. Looked inside my rolling bag. No luck. F%$*!!!!!!!! The look on Shelley’s face, my very experienced and organized companion, was priceless. In her shock she was certain that I had placed it elsewhere. This is possible as I’m not totally organized, but I know myself better than that. My characteristic that trumps my disorganization is forgetfulness. I looked her straight in the eyes and said, “I know I left it sitting on the bedside table. I remember leaving it there. I’ll be back”. Then I darted.

Have you seen Phoebe from ‘Friends’ running? Her arms waving wildly and legs all askew. Every limb independent of the other. That was exactly what I looked like as I took off to hail a taxi. My carry-on and purse flailing behind me.

Of course you can’t just grab any cab outside the busy Heathrow airport. But I didn’t realize that because in times of distress I don’t do anything intentionally. I’m more of a ‘panic and act’ type of person. I rushed up to the first cab I saw like a lunatic banging on the window. He sent me away. Saw another cab a little further off. He was appalled at my madwoman behavior but was at least helpful and pointed me in the direction where taxi’s were properly lined up waiting for guests.

I hopped in the cab at the front of the line where I was greeted with a “Cheerio”. No cheer here mate…instead I let him know this was a ‘Fast and Furious‘ mission.

Oh great. It was now 5pm and London also observes the fun tradition called ‘rush hour traffic’. I assume that’s why the famous movie is titled, ‘Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift’, rather than ‘Fast and Furious: London on a Weekday’. That cab ride TO the hotel was painful. I passed time by panicking. And praying. And checking my carry-on 8 more times. Could God make my 15” MacBook appear? Not this time. I then called the hotel in hopes they would have my computer ready to hand over at the front Concierge Desk.

5:10pm (now one hour before my flight departs). I arrive at the hotel and encounter many staff people who have no idea about the missing computer, nor seem to realize the urgency. Grabbed a ‘fit-ish’ looking guy and we ran to the room I had only checked out of an hour prior. No computer. Now I was just pissed. I might be missing a flight all for a computer that has randomly disappeared.

5:14pm. There are literally 4 people just looking around the front desk confused about a computer, yet they think someone may know something. Hey, no rush. Just let me know when you have an update. Should we grab a cup of tea and talk about it, while picking up stacks of paper to look for it?

5:15pm. Knight in shining armor (armor=the shiny Sofitel name badge), runs up with my precious Apple MacBook Pro! I screamed a million thank you’s (everyone loves a loud American!) as I ran back to my taxi. As we cruised back to Terminal 3 my incredible driver kept giving me his traffic updates and encouraging me by telling stories of other forgetful and disorganized travelers who had no chance of making flights. I was feeling totally pumped that I wasn’t near as idiotic as those other tourists.

I returned to the airport (and hugged my £120 chauffeur – the equivalent to about $500 billion USD by the way. No one said mistakes were cheap). But now the security line was total bananas. An entire Japanese school was ahead of me, along with every other overnight flyer just arriving. Rules are made to be broken. I began ducking and weaving my way through the security line maze. My genuine panic as I begged person after person to be let in front of them had many endeared towards me(naive thinking?). Or maybe it was just sheer sympathy as most knew, as well as I did, that I still had another security check to go and then needed to book it past 30 gates before my fate would be realized. Nevertheless, many strangers happily let me cut in front and wished me luck.

Oops. I forgot to separate my liquids. It’s truly embarrassing when you cut in front of no less than 100 people, dash thru the security line like a pro, then stand there. Waiting. And waiting. All while they re-run your bag of liquids. I almost just told her to trash it, but my SkinCeuticals serums were included and there are ZERO FLIGHTS WORTH ABANDONING THAT GOLD! Humbled, I waited. Then repeated this whole ‘poor desperate me’ act at the next security check point.

Finally…free!

5:50pm. (the flight doors would close in 5 minutes). Although I had word from Shelley that the flight was still boarding. Actually her exact text from earlier said, “It’s a hot mess of people. Gonna take a while”.

I sprinted. Well, it felt like a sprint. I was winded like I had been sprinting. I must have look fatigued (or at least desperate enough I would be a hefty tipper) that a man in a cart quickly drove me the last 12 gates worth.

I SAW SHELLEY! And an open door! I couldn’t believe it. I got in a work out, solved a problem and now was going to arrive in South Africa as regularly scheduled. There was just one last piece of this ridiculous puzzle. And it wasn’t too pleasant:
So as I take a seat in what will be my home for the next 12 hours, IN coach, I start to get an oh so familiar feeling….let’s just say things were already a getting a little “cramped”. It’s going to be a great flight!!!

Tell me – what’s the worst thing you’ve left behind while traveling?