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.


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