There I was, once again flying with a newborn baby. This time it was Ariya.  She was a month old and I needed to renew my visa so off we flew. I was taking her to Kuala Lumpur to see all the dizzying heights the city had to offer and the fact her passport had been processed and arrived in time was a great omen! With the exception of being placed in the middle of a Chinese tour party who had no idea about the personal space required when flying with a newborn baby, my flight was largely uneventful. As we disembarked and walked towards security, I saw the lengthy queue and cursed under my breath. Ariya was asleep, but was due a feed. Anyway, I’d deal with it so I joined the back of the queue. To my absolute delight, I was escorted to the front of the queue and my entry into the country was processed quickly and smoothly. I literally skipped on through taking a quick and somewhat smug look behind me.

I had in the back of my mind the story Chas told me about the ATM machines not giving out money at the baggage claim so I was doubly smug as I’d actually remembered something useful. I found the ‘safe’ ATM machines, took some cash out and headed for the cab. It was a long drive out of the airport but all was fine as we headed onto our adventure.

ALL WAS NOT FINE!

In my idiotic smugness, I’d managed to completely forget about picking up my luggage – suitcase, buggy, EVERYTHING!  I had skipped right past it.

We had just made it out of the airport when I realised I only had my handbag on me. We had no option but to turn around and fight our way around the one-way obstacle course airport road again.

I ran into the airport with a screaming baby who I’d completely forgotten to feed in my smugness and incompetence and ran back through security. I didn’t realise how much of a ‘no no’ this was until I reached the gate where two surly security guards finally caught up with me. They were not amused having chased me (without my knowledge) through the airport.

I was escorted by three security guards through the restricted area to collect my luggage. I looked (and felt) like a criminal and was absolutely mortified! I sheepishly picked up my luggage and the buggy which had been placed in a holding area and was escorted out of the airport.

The taxi cost a small fortune, Ariya was by this stage beside herself with hunger and I was a disheveled mess. Once again, not a great start to my solo adventure!

Lesson learned – pay attention!

 

For more travel tales of woe, read my journey to and from Heathrow here and here or for a more serious take on flying with a newborn baby, click here