Sunset (Monday, May 27, 2019) where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic. That’s a bit of Spain in the upper right.
This is my happy place.
Arriving at the Tangier airport, I asked of the Iberia agent about my luggage. She called the service desk.
“Yes, sir. Your luggage is here in lost and found.”
And thus I was united with my luggage, which had apparently arrived on our around May 23, three days later than I did.
Of course, no one from the airport called the hotel, even though they knew where I was staying. And no one from the hotel seemed to be able to find the luggage either, or knew who to call at the airport.
[An update at 6 p.m. Madrid time on Tuesday: as of this moment, according to the screen captures on my computer, Iberia is still showing my luggage as lost with a WorldTracer on it. No one at TNG scanned a bar code, or even asked me to sign anything. No wonder this system is a mess.]
I have my luggage. Now I I have fresh clothes, thanks be to god. And all my toiletries.
Next: doing battle with the airlines for reimbursement, and doing battle with the private insurance company to gain restitution as well.
Here are the original posts, in chronological order:
The plot thickens.
No one wants responsibility for even investigating my luggage loss.
American Airlines: “We’re sorry to hear you’re still separated. As Royal Air Maroc was the final carrier, please continue working with them directly.” Apparently the protocol is that the final carrier manages the investigation.
Royal Air Maroc:
And of course Iberia had nothing to do with this mess. From an email to a contact at AA, some local context:
“We arrived TNG at 11 p.m. This is a tiny two-gate airport, and two jets arrived at the same time.At least six people on the AT flight arrived without luggage. We were all escorted to the tiny office of Iberia, the largest carrier here, who apparently services the AT luggage problems.”
That seems to be why the irregularity report was entered that way.
Who is going to take responsibility and pony up the compensation I’m due?
The Hotel Continental is one of the faded dowagers of Tangier’s heady days as the Interzone, where intrigue and drugs and money and secrets all washed together in the middle part of the 20th century.
I had not been inside on my previous trip, but our guide took us there last week, and I was glad for the opportunity to photograph the stunning mosaics and examples-everywhere of Moroccan style.
From our tour last week: