Sunset in the Rif Mountains.
Chefchaouen. Cats in the street. Allegedly, according to our guide, these are three generations of cats.
All signs point to no luggage, and that my large bag is lost for good.
The locals tell me that Royal Air Maroc is the problem.
American Airlines tells me they transferred my bag to Royal Air Maroc, but have no luggage tag number, and no specific record of delivery or pick-up or sign-off on the transfer. The two airlines are going to be pointing fingers to each other.
And now I get the fun of filing claims with the airline(s) and with the travel insurance company.
Of course, they will only reimburse items that I purchase to replace, up to a certain amount.
My Birkenstocks are gone. So are a pair of shoes I bought six years ago in the UK, in Wells . . . some of my best walking shoes. The Hawaiian shirts are gone. Some might cheer that news. So are two hats bought specifically for travel. And a book. And underclothes and trousers and shirts and toiletries and an expensive carbon-fiber walking stick. And my electric razor. And my maintenance meds. And some school work.
The Hilton concierge took us around to the adjacent shopping mall after Iftar on Tuesday evening. He pointed out two shops that would open very soon, at 9 p.m. I now have more underclothes, socks, a pair of jeans, two new shirts (plus two others I bought today), toiletries (so inexpensive here!!), some flip-flops, and a hat.
A new suitcase itself shall wait until I return home, unless I see something I really like.
The extra cost today? The equivalent of:
- $12 for toiletries
- $305 for clothing
I’m being infinitely patient, too. And thanking God that I am man of means, who is experienced in traveling. This bump is not going to frizzle me!