Shit happens
We arrive in Marseille after sitting on the tarmac for an hour in Mykonos. Something to do with having to move the bags around, Capitaine said. Something to do with having to put more bags in the front cause it’s windy Capitaine says. Liar, Liar pants on fire. Eventually we are off and a quick 2.5 hour flight we land in Marseille. We go to claim our luggage and then will head outside to our awaiting transfer. The RWC signs above the luggage carousal welcome us. Only problem is one of our bags doesn’t arrive. Mine. There are about 20 of us left milling around after everyone has gone and then someone comes over and addresses us all. Of course we have no idea what he is saying but by the reaction of the other passengers we know our bag isn’t here and isn’t coming.
A couple of things to say here. Firstly yes I have clean underwear and socks as we do have one bag and thankfully those things are in there. I also have toiletries and medicines. But that is it. I have the shirt on my back and the pants on my legs and the sneakers on my feet. We queue for eternity to fill out a form to say that our bag did not arrive and then are told that we hopefully our bag will be here the day after tomorrow and then we need to come and pick it up. “Cant you send it to our hotel? “. “Non non, if you want to see luggage again then you will need to pick it up. FFS.
With our transfer long since given up on us we head out and catch an Uber to our hotel, have a very bad late night meal and go to bed. A poor nights sleep is had and in the morning I envy WH who puts on a clean tshirt and shorts. I put on yesterdays clothes( the wrinkled, sweaty all day travel ones from yesterday) and head out for maybe a floaty dress, or even a tshirt. Two hours later. FFS
Two things. It’s all winter clothes. They are all tiny. Are there no woman over a size 12 in Marseille? If there are they don’t shop here. Two malls and 10,000 steps later I eventually end up at a RWC merchandise store and buy a big t shirt. Job done, and man am I grumpy. There is not one little bit of go with the flow left in me. I am hot, my two day old sweaty long sleeved shirt is clinging to me and my long travel pants are sticking to my legs. WH has long given up trying to improve the situation and we trudge towards the hotel. With hard earned crappy tshirt in hand.
We chance upon a tourist train and as the legs are done and the feet are swollen I suggest we climb aboard. Toot toot. We bounce and shudder around a circuit and get really bad photos but hey at least there is a breeze and I am sitting down.
On the way back to the little toot station where we started our tour we decide that we are now quite close to our hotel and we literally leap out when it stops for an ambulance blocking its path. Probably there for an old lady leaping (yes I know oxymoron) from a little toot train.
We check out the RWC display and then walk slowly along the waterfront back to the hotel.
Hopefully my bag will be here tomorrow. I have cancelled our transport to Arles and our stop off at Aix-en-Provence and I will go to the airport and collect my bag and be grateful to receive them. I will then leave Marseille and enjoy the Provence.
PS
Budget airlines can suck. The Uber to town and then back to collect the bags probably cost more than the flight. VOLOTEA airlines do not send the bags to your hotel even if they choose to leave them behind.
My shirt and pants are washed and hanging in the bathroom. Hopefully a different receptionist is on in the morning so I dont have to do another walk of shame through the lobby.