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The traveling hugger... (Part 6)

Next step: reshaping the carton in which the hugger will be sent! Fortunately I love cartons, tapes and scissors...

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Then the Post Office... As much I did not know what mission it would be to find a matflap in India, I knew what mission couriering it would be!

Saturday morning. I put my alarm clock at 11:20. When it rings, my whole body, exhausted by a week of traveling and tensions begs me not to react but this is the only free day I have before my holidays... And from what I remember the Post Office closes at 12 so there is no time to laze around in bed!


At 11:35 I am at the Post Office:


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I took the picture later but here are about twenty people waiting in line. I skip the line because I know there are good chances they won’t take my parcel and I’d rather find out fast!

And good I did. No parcel in this Post Office… The clerk tells me the address of another Post Office.


I sit in a rickshaw. I am running out of time now. He doesn’t know the address so I step out – I don’t have time to spend looking for the place. Same thing with the second rickshaw. The third one knows!


I arrive at a Post Office hidden in a building, funny.

Less funny, it closes at 11:00.

I knew it... It was gonna be a pain in this ass to courier that piece of shit...

Except that...


(To be continued)



The traveling hugger... (Part 5)

The same night I was taking the plane to Mumbai. At the check-in desk, the SpiceJet guy told me that I should probably check in my hugger but seeing me pouting, he offered to let me try my luck at the security check... 


At the security check, one of the military woman – women have separate lines in India – asked me what it was. I explained but she was not keen on letting it go as hand baggage: she wanted me to check it in. Except that it was 9 PM, I was super pukish, I had no baggage checked in and I certainly didn’t have 20 minutes to waste waiting at the belt in Mumbai at 11 PM... 


One of her girlfriends seemed to take pity in me and asked her male colleagues, sitting around the next X-ray machine, for opinion. They immediately recognized the hugger and agreed to let me carry it! (My smile was doing wonders that day ;) ) But my military woman would not hear anything and refused to stamp the tag. The brave woman who had decided to help me took my hugger and got its tag stamped by the military guys and voilà! For once I was glad men trump women in this country! 


When I arrived on the plane, the hugger would not fit in the luggage trunk, and it bothered me the whole way at my feet – this shit had started to really annoy me now...! 


And now I had to courier this thing! 


(To be continued)


The traveling hugger... (Part 4)

Using all my charms (well, not all actually, it is just about a bike after all! My smile should be enough ;) ), I managed to convince the sales guy to remove the hugger from the exhibit bike (a new model they had received the same day)!  


Thirty minutes later and much more knowledgeable about race bikes (once I overcame my shyness and started talking I was unstoppable with my questions), I left with my hugger!


But the adventure was not over...


(To be continued)