Day 12 – 3 Cheeses Go Rolling . . .

They say things come in threes. So for the next two weeks (not three), it’s gonna be “3 Cheeses Go Rolling”.

Of course that phrase is often used to bring an end to a string of bad occurrences. With yesterday’s fun at the barrier system, plus Laura’s missing suitcase, it stands to reason a third is in the offing. But when? We didn’t have long to find out.

Yesterday’s frustrating evening brings no joy. No system in place by Stansted Airport or AirFrance which allows person to person contact. FAQs and circular phone messages drive us crazy. Like our imaginations. Thoughts of Laura’s suitcase flying solo to far flung places keep us on edge.

Today, we decide to head back to Bastia airport. Laura wants to speak with someone, person to person. Her fluency in French helps. Plus, we (wrongly) assume they’ll have access to an online luggage tracking system. They’ll be able to tell us exactly where her case is – surely? It’s got a bar code attached to it after all.

After yesterday’s barrier fiasco I decide not to re-enter the the war-zone. Save three euros. Instead think it’s a good idea to wait on the entrance road while Laura and Mary-Ann go kick some back sides. Big mistake. Pull Beastie in as close to the kerb as possible without damaging the alloys. Don’t want to cause aggro to passing traffic. Didn’t pay enough attention. Beastie is slightly fatter below his belt. Not by much. But in this case just enough. Certain parts of his body trim, not so trim. Stick out a little. Like a slipped mid-riff bulge. Unbeknown to me I tightly wedge his sticky out bits against a long wooden kerbside barrier. This only comes to light on moving off. Beastie yelps. Can’t say I blame him . . .

Whose been a bad boy then . . .
Now I know why, as a very last minute buy, the Homebase bought Ultra sticky black gaffa tape would be worth its weight in gold.

A non fruitful meeting with the AirFrance help-desk dampens our spirits further. Plunge our entwined pointy bits lower. We head over to Calvi and Les Castors campsite in sobre and sombre frames of mind. Silent prayers go up.

Calvi pool looks ‘cool’

On arrival our pointy bits get joyously and simultaneously inverted. Laura receives a phone call. Suitcase found. Bastia bound. Thursday guaranteed.