The Big Red Bag

8 million people live in London, England. How much larger is that number on any given day when we take into consideration all of the day-travelers and tourists?

The volcano that erupted in Iceland landed all of the planes out of the UK for quite a while, including the one I was supposed to take back to the States. I had stayed a night in Heathrow airport using the wonderfully thin mat they supplied to all of us and the heat blanket which looked like a large amount of tinfoil. I had met some friendly Germans there and we passed the time together for the day. When I realized I wasn't going to be going home any time soon, I e-mailed my professors and decided to head back into London.

Before I went back to the area where the parkour certification was to find someone I could stay with, I decided to spend the day seeing as much of London as I possibly could. So there I was, with my tiny camera in one hand and my huge, red, rolling suitcase in the other being as touristy as absolutely possible - and trying not to turn as red as my luggage.

I decided to hop on one of the tour buses (it was actually a really good deal plus a ride on the St. James river) rather than spend much of my time just walking. I set my luggage in the corner of the bus on the first floor, and made my way to the top of the bus to enjoy the warm weather and the sights.

Easy travellin', 21 year old

We could get off the bus whenever we wanted to go see various attractions. I decided to go see the Sherlock Holmes Museum. So I got off the bus and started making my way towards the museum when I realized that this small walk was much easier than before, when I realized that my camera was in one hand and there was nothing in my other. I forgot my bag on the bus!

I looked back towards where I had come from - bustling people all over the place, bright sun and blue sky, old buildings lining the thin streets - and thought this simple phrase, "Oh well. I hope they have a lost  and found." And I carried on into the museum.

An hour or so later I emerged from that truly awesome museum with a new mission: to reclaim my bag. I made my way back to the bus stop, told  one of the tour guides my situation, and asked if they had a lost and found. To my surprise, they did. He used his walkie-talkie to contact a tour bus, then told me to jump on it and I can get off at their lost and found area.

Let's remember what city I'm in. London: one of the most popular tourist destinations with plenty of sight-seeing companies, intriguing side streets, and plenty of scams (though I was fortunate to run into any of those).

The bus pulled up, opened the doors, I stepped inside and voila! - there's my bag, sitting in the same place as I left it. Out of all of the possibilities of getting onto a different bus, or someone messing with my bag, or it being reported to security, it was right where I left it, and somehow I was right where it was.

I grabbed the bag, got off the bus, and made my way to the boat ride on St. James River.

Moral of the story? Probably many. But the one I take away most is: don't worry. Maybe it's a good thing to be tense at some moments to make sure you accomplish what needs to be done, but at this moment, I just couldn't worry - I had no desire whatsoever to panic so I just went on with my day and everything turned out fine.

Who knows - maybe my bag got to see more than I did.