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The curious case of the suitcase that went on a European holiday without me on Vueling airlines

https://www.vueling.com/en

The curious case of the suitcase that went on a European holiday without me

https://www.vueling.com/en

By Steven Smith

There was great excitement when, as a late birthday gift, my nephew took me to Marbella for five days.

We flew out with British Airways, and I came back on a codeshare flight operated by a Spanish airline called Vueling. Now, I have no complaints about the flight itself. Everything went perfectly well.

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for my luggage.

There are certain things you expect to bring home from a holiday: photographs, memories, perhaps a few extra pounds around the waist and a vague promise that next time you’ll pack less.

What you don’t expect is for your suitcase to continue its European travels without you.

My luggage has now been missing since Saturday, and what began as an inconvenience has turned into a bizarre international mystery involving airports, telephone calls, automated updates and a suitcase that appears to have had a far more adventurous journey than I did.

The reference number, which I now know almost as well as my own telephone number, is LGWVY28092.

The bag was particularly important because I had been sharing it with my nephew, Matthew, who was due to fly to the United States shortly after we returned. His clothes were inside, along with mine. So this wasn’t simply a case of waiting patiently for a delayed pair of socks to turn up.

Then came the updates.

At one point, my luggage appeared to be in Paris Charles de Gaulle. Why Paris? Your guess is as good as mine. From there, I was told it was being sent to Barcelona before eventually — hopefully — making its way back to me in London.

Paris to Barcelona to London. My suitcase was practically Interrailing.

What has made the whole experience considerably worse, however, is the extraordinary difficulty in getting a clear answer from anyone.

I have telephoned. I have messaged. I have chased. I have watched the online tracking system with the dedication of an air traffic controller. I would love to be in Paris ,

Eventually, the status changed to the rather exciting announcement:

“Your piece of baggage has been located.”

Wonderful!

Except there was one small problem.

Where exactly had it been located?

Being told something has been “located” is not particularly reassuring when nobody can confirm where it physically is, whether it actually arrived in Barcelona, when it will be placed on a flight to London, or when it might finally arrive at my front door.

Each telephone call seems to produce another version of: “We are waiting for information.”

Meanwhile, my suitcase continues to exist somewhere in the mysterious world of international baggage handling.

My suitcase before its extended holiday .

There is, of course, a funny side. I have visions of it sitting beside a swimming pool in Barcelona, sipping sangria while I sit in London trying desperately to discover its whereabouts.

But underneath the humour is a serious point.

When airlines lose passengers’ belongings, communication matters enormously. People may have medication, work clothes, sentimental possessions or valuable items inside their cases. A computer-generated message saying a bag has been “located” simply isn’t enough after days of uncertainty.

Passengers deserve to know what is happening to their property.

So, as I write this, the great suitcase saga continues.

Somewhere between London, Paris and Barcelona is one extremely well-travelled piece of luggage that belongs to me.

If anyone sees it, could you possibly tell it that its holiday is over?

Steven would quite like his clothes back.

P.S. The latest piece of “help” from Vueling Airlines was the suggestion that I call Barcelona Airport myself and see if I can find my luggage.

You really couldn’t make it up.

UPDATE: THE SUITCASE FINALLY COMES HOME!

Now for an update on my luggage.

After around ten more phone calls — yes, I am like a dog with a bone — there was finally some good news.

Now, the people at Vueling Airlines are actually very charming. You are given the choice to speak to them in English or Spanish and, even as they told me that no one could find my luggage in Barcelona but that they would keep trying, there was always the cheerful: “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

I have to admit, the latter did begin to irritate me slightly. YES — FIND MY SUITCASE!

Eventually, on Friday, six days into my suitcase’s extended stay in Barcelona, there was good news: it had been found!

However, it still wasn’t showing on the system the following morning, so naturally I called again. Yes, apparently it was on its way back to Gatwick, although no one seemed quite sure exactly when. They estimated somewhere around 12:45.

I called again later and there was still no confirmation that it had actually landed.

Then, at around four o’clock on Saturday, I received a text from Eagle Aviation, who were going to deliver my luggage.

There was an odd delivery time showing, so I emailed them. They told me they hadn’t actually received the luggage yet, so I was safe to go out.

The following morning it was much the same story. At around 11am, I was told that perhaps it would be in the 12:30 batch they were expecting, but they couldn’t confirm it.

So, safe in the knowledge that my suitcase was apparently still nowhere near my front door, I headed off to Chelmsford to see my great friend Aston Avery, who had been nominated at the Make a Difference Awards. I reckoned I could easily be home by six.

There I was, sitting next to Anna Kennedy OBE — who, I should point out, did forgot to share her Skittles  however provided me with some great popcorn Thank-you — when at around 3:45pm my phone started buzzing.

“Your luggage will be delivered today between 16:42 and 18:42.”

AN HOUR’S NOTICE!

Luckily, it was towards the end of the show, so I legged it. And no wonder I have a hernia now!

Somehow, I made it back home by 5:30pm.

At 5:55pm, the call finally came.

Could I come downstairs and be reunited with my luggage?

Apparently, they don’t bring it to your actual door.

And there it was. After eight days missing in action, several countries, countless telephone calls and considerably more stress than any suitcase deserves to cause, we were finally reunited.

I am going to do exactly what my nephew told me to do in the first place and buy an Apple AirTag. I also now have the pleasure of posting my nephew’s belongings back to the USA!

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Apple-AirTag-

On the upside, in nearly 50 years of travelling, this is the first time anything like this has happened to me. The actual flight with Vueling was very good, and the cabin crew were professional, smart and charming. So I’m going to put the whole thing down to very bad luck — or perhaps Malaga Airport!

Would I fly with Vueling again? Yes, I probably would.

Would I ever travel without an AirTag again?

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

As for my luggage, it is very happy to be home.

Although after its unexpected European adventure, it is now telling me that it needs a spa day.

Frankly, so do I.

https://www.vueling.com/en

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A Dream in Saussignac

Celebrating my best pals birthday was just a dream.

My best pals birthday in superb surroundings .

France’s Dordogne is no stranger to charm, but this tiny wine-soaked village might just be its best-kept secret

By Steven Smith

Five days in a southwest French village left me sun-warmed, wine-softened, and wondering how I’d lived this long without knowing Saussignac existed. This is rural France at its most painterly — all rolling vineyards, candlelit dinners, and the slow thrum of a life well-lived.

The Birthday That Changed Everything

When my best friend invited me away for her birthday, I braced for Dubai. Maybe Ibiza. Somewhere loud and expensive, where my idea of a lie-in would be drowned out by basslines and foam cannons.

Instead, she said, “Saussignac.”

The name meant nothing to me — until an artist friend described it as “wines of the gods, food like nectar, and a village so pretty it could be in a Merchant Ivory film.” He added, with a wink, “Some hotels feel like art galleries — all taste, style, and warmth.”

Two weeks later, we were landing at Bergerac Airport, a dinky 1960s gem that could double as a film set. In 10 minutes, we were in the hire car. In 20, we were in another world.

“Darling, you don’t do anything there. You immerse yourself in beauty.”

First Glimpse of a Slower Life

The drive was a moving painting: rolling vineyards, fields of wildflowers, terracotta-tiled farmhouses unchanged for centuries. Every curve of the road offered a new gasp-worthy view.

My Secret Sanctuary

While the rest of the party checked into the lively hub of the village, I chose a private B&B run by Dutch hostess Ingrid Leenders.

Her place is a pocket of peace: rustic gardens, a tiled pool, and rooms with open-plan bathrooms (romantics, take note). No TV, but strong Wi-Fi, a coffee machine, and a small fridge. Each morning at seven sharp, breakfast appeared — fresh bread, cheeses, eggs, and orange juice.

Ingrid herself? A doll. Always ready with tips, and never in the way.

📧 Bookingsingridleenders@outlook.com
📱 WhatsApp: +31 622 796 060

The Social Set: Le 1500

Meanwhile, my friends took over Le 1500, a 12th-century building transformed into a boutique haven by retired businessman-turned-artist 58 year old Michael F. Rumsby and his husband, Lee McNeal.

Every room is a curated mix of antiques and art. A history room and library invite slow afternoons. Outside, the walled garden hides a pool, bar, and dining terrace that in summer becomes an event space — open-air films, long-table dinners, and the infamous Bad Boys Burger Night.

🌐 Websitewww.le1500.rocks

Le 1500

Saussignac on a Plate

Our first evening was spent at Mélange, a family-run restaurant with stone walls, castle views, and a menu that changes weekly. Owners Melanie and Charlie are culinary magicians — especially for those of us with “difficult” diets. My pescatarian self and vegan friends were both spoiled.

🌐 Websitemélange.fr

The Dream Venue

If I ever marry, it will be at Château Lestevenie.

Owners Petrie and Jaco, both South Africans trained in the Stellenbosch winelands, host Summer Soirées so perfect they feel scripted: live jazz, vineyard sunsets, and rotating menus of Mexican, Indian, and French cuisine — all paired with their own sparkling Lestevenie Brut.

🌐 Websitechateaulestevenie.com

https://chateaulestevenie.com/our-story/

Wine with a View

Just a short stroll from the village, Château Fayolle offers 130 acres of vines and woodland, plus terrace lunches that must be pre-ordered.

Wine here is history: since 1254, Saussignac and Bergerac bottles have graced Europe’s finest tables. Today, owners Frank and Riki Campbell are taking it global.

🌐 Websitechateaufayolle.com

A Golfer’s French Fantasy

Some in our group opted for Château des Vigiers — a blend of fairways, fine dining, and château glamour between Bergerac and Saint-Émilion. It’s home to a championship golf course, a Michelin-starred restaurant, and a choice between historic suites or sleek relais rooms.

🌐 Websitevigiers.com

An Unexpected Spice Hit

In Bergerac, we found Jardin de Kashmir — hands down the best Indian restaurant I’ve ever eaten at. Flavours deep enough to make you close your eyes.

🌐 Websitekashmirbergerac.fr

Living the Slow Life

Saussignac isn’t about ticking off sights. It’s about strolling past shuttered stone houses, tasting wine under vine-laced terraces, and lingering until the sky blushes.

Bring a car — taxis are rare and expensive. Pre-book meals and flag any dietary quirks in advance. And then? Let the place work its quiet magic.

“By the end of the week my body was lighter, my mind calmer, my soul recharged.”

If You Go

Best time to visit: May–September for warm evenings and vineyard events.
Getting there: British Airways (London City) and Ryanair (Stansted) fly direct to Bergerac. Car hire essential.
Don’t miss: Mélange for dinner, Château Lestevenie’s Summer Soirée, Château Fayolle’s terrace lunch.
Pack for: Lazy afternoons, lingering dinners, and the urge to never leave.

END

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GOING UNDERGROUND


Steven’s Viewz

Going Underground

It was hard not to stifle a chuckle when I spotted the old familiar sign on the London Underground: “DO NOT STARE.”Really? How is it even possible to avoid making eye contact—no matter how hard you try—when there’s a man across from you mining his nose with such vigour that you worry his fingers might pop out through his eyeball? Or that couple in the corner, so utterly absorbed in each other that you’re not quite sure where to look—especially when she takes a break from kissing to slide her tongue into his ear. lets not start on ” If you see something that does not look right please report it ”

But that’s London for you. A glorious, bustling, cosmopolitan city teeming with people from every walk of life, each more stylish or eccentric than the last. The Tube isn’t just a means of transportation—it’s a rolling reality show. Every trip, every change of line, brings a new cast of characters and a fresh episode of human theatre.

Personally, I’ve always loved the art of people-watching. Airports were once my favourite stage. I’d arrive early just for the chance to observe humanity in transit. Back when loudspeakers used to blare out dramatic announcements—“Mrs Jones, please come to Desk Seven. You have an urgent message.” I never followed to see who Mrs Jones was, but oh, how my imagination ran wild. Maybe she was running away with a lover who’d had a sudden change of heart. Maybe she was being lured back to a secret double life. Most likely, it was something terribly dull—but still, it was enough to get the mental movie reels spinning.

Imagination has always been my saving grace. It’s carried me through life’s best and worst moments. The joy of observing life and its never-ending cast of characters continues to fuel me. As Shakespeare said:
“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts.”

But let’s return to the Underground, which has been whisking Londoners beneath the city’s streets since 1863. That “DO NOT STARE” sign, upon closer inspection, had smaller print I hadn’t noticed before:
“INTRUSIVE STARING OF A SEXUAL NATURE IS SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND IS NOT TOLERATED.”
Fair point—and an important one.

Over a decade ago, I interviewed twelve Page 3 models about their experiences with dating and sex. Shockingly—but sadly not surprisingly—every single one of them had experienced some form of sexual harassment on the Tube. From groping in crowded carriages to lingering, uncomfortable touches during rush hour, it was a grim reminder of the darker side of commuting. Everyone deserves to travel safely, without fear of violation or discomfort.

Yes, let’s stamp out intrusive behaviour. But while we’re putting up signs, how about a few more reminders—common courtesies that could make life better for all of us packed into those rolling metal sausages?

Here’s my updated list of suggested announcements for the London Underground, to be posted right alongside “DO NOT STARE”:

  • Uncross your legs. No one wants your muddy footprint on their trousers when the train jerks to a stop.
  • Remove your backpack. Place it between your feet—don’t swing it around like a medieval weapon during rush hour.
  • Move your bags. That seat is not reserved for your handbag. Let others sit down.
  • Offer your seat. A little kindness never goes out of fashion. If you see someone elderly, pregnant, or visibly struggling, give up your seat. Don’t pretend to be engrossed in your phone or suddenly blind. But again… DO NOT STARE.
  • Leave the snacks at home. This isn’t the Orient Express. No one wants to arrive smelling like a bucket of fried chicken or a spicy chow mein from Mr Wok.
  • Escalator etiquette matters. DO NOT stop dead at the top to check your phone or sort your shopping. Move clear—or risk being shoved, bumped, or bruised.
  • If someone touches you inappropriately, report it immediately. We all have a right to feel safe.

London’s Underground is legendary around the world for good reason. It’s fast, far-reaching, and, if you ask me, oddly charming. Yes, the fares could be more reasonable—please, Sadiq Khan, no more price hikes—but it remains one of the most efficient and fascinating ways to travel.

So let’s respect it. Let’s love it. And let’s all do our bit to keep the journey pleasant for everyone.

And remember—DO NOT STARE.
Even if that Colin Farrell lookalike in rugby shorts gets on at Clapham.

https://tfl.gov.uk/modes/tube

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Wine tasting at the most talked about gallery in London ?


https://www.firepit.art
Sip wine and dine at the most talked about gallery in London https://www.firepit.art

Steven’s Out and About

To many, I might seem like the life and soul of the party, but in reality, I’m quite shy. Outside the familiar setting of events and friends’ parties, the thought of going to bars or clubs fills me with anxiety and dread. Like many, I want to meet new people, try new things, and expand my social horizons. After the passing of my former partner, I’ve struggled more than I care to admit—even to those closest to me.

Saturday nights are usually spent writing or watching a box set, feeling safe in my own space. But this year, I resolved to change that. The question was: how?

2Shades agony aunt Heidi Gammon suggested that instead of heading to the buzzy clubs and bars of Soho and Vauxhall, I should try something different. My tastes have always been eclectic, so I took her up on the challenge.

It wasn’t long before I found the perfect option—one that ticked all the boxes: a wine tasting with dinner. Of course, I couldn’t go alone, so I brought along 2Shades beauty editor Clare Mc Sweeney and her beloved teddy bear coat (don’t worry, no teddy bears were harmed in the making of it!).

The wine tasting was hosted at one of London’s most talked-about galleries—Firepit. Located on the Greenwich Peninsula, right by the banks of the Thames, Firepit is an experimental and forward-thinking artist collective, making it the perfect setting for an evening of culture, conversation, and, of course, fine wine.

Held on the last Saturday of each month, the wine-tasting masterclass is hosted by former restaurateur and sommelier “Charlie” Young, a man renowned for his deep knowledge and infectious passion for wine. Charlie’s reputation precedes him—his expertise is matched only by his ability to make learning about wine both engaging and thoroughly enjoyable.

Doors open at 5:30 PM, giving guests a half-hour to settle in, mingle, and explore the gallery’s latest exhibitions before the tasting officially begins at 6:00 PM. The setting itself—Firepit, a cutting-edge artist collective on the Greenwich Peninsula—adds an extra layer of creativity and intrigue to the evening.

Charlie pours the wine and chats .

Now, if you’ve ever attended a wine tasting where the host droned on endlessly, more focused on their own cleverness than on making the experience enjoyable, you might be wary. I’ve been there. In fact, I once attended a tasting where even my endlessly patient and sophisticated friend finally snapped, exclaiming, “FOR F—’S SAKE, JUST POUR IT!”

https://www.firepit.art

Thankfully, Charlie’s approach was the complete opposite. He made a point of ensuring the evening was lighthearted, interactive, and fun—without ever compromising on substance. He didn’t just educate; he entertained. And judging by the lively atmosphere in the room, he had a gift for bringing together a wonderfully diverse and genuinely lovely group of people.

The tasting featured six carefully selected wines, each with its own story and character. Gallery owner Marcus Jake was also on hand, standing by with a bucket for those who wished to spit or discard their samples—though, let’s be honest, few took him up on that offer. His primary role for the evening? Acting as Charlie’s glamorous assistant, which, in reality, mostly involved keeping everyone’s glasses generously topped up.

The wine tasting flies by in just over an hour, but the evening doesn’t end there. Charlie stays on for the dinner portion, offering expert advice on wine pairings and sharing fascinating insights in his signature engaging style.

Celebrity photographer Annemarie Bickerton with Charlie and me https://www.firepit.art

Dinner is served in the gallery itself, creating a relaxed and sociable atmosphere. Guests—many of whom started the evening as strangers—naturally connect over a two-course meal, exchanging thoughts on the wines, the artwork, and life in general. The sense of camaraderie is undeniable, making it feel more like an intimate dinner party than a formal event.

2Shades Clare Mc Sweeney and Annemarie Bickerton with friends join the fun https://www.firepit.art

For those who prefer just the wine tasting experience, tickets are available separately, with no obligation to stay for dinner. However, gallery curator Matthew warmly encourages guests to linger, explore the artwork, and enjoy another drink at their leisure.

“We want people to experience the gallery, to feel at home in the space,” Marcus explains. “That’s why we keep ticket prices as low as possible. The wine tastings and dinners have been a real success, bringing people together in a way that feels effortless and enjoyable.”

And a success it certainly was. 2Shades will definitely be back.

Date and time

Saturday, April 26 · 6 – 10:30pm GMT+1. Doors at 6pm

Regional French Wine Masterclass with optional two-course dinner

An informal and exciting wine masterclass featuring six premium wines from the Loire Valley, Madiran in the Southwest, the Rhone Valley and Provence. Presented by Vinoteca founder Charlie Young

There are two tickets:

Masterclass £16.50 per person, 6:00pm to 7:15pm

Two-course dinner £16.50 per person, 7:30pm to 10:30pm

Communal two-course dinner, with glasses or bottles of the wines featured in the Masterclass from £6 per glass

Regional French Wine Masterclass with Charlie Young

Anjou Blanc ‘Large Soif!’ 2020 – Terra Vita Vinum, Anjou, Loire (white)

Chinon Clos de la Bonneliere 2020 – Chateau de la Bonneliere, Chinon, Loire (red)

Pacherenc du Vic Bilh Sec 2021 – Domaine Laplace, Madiran, South West

Madiran ‘Aydie l’Origine’ 2021 – Domaine Laplace, Madiran, South West

Côtes du Rhone Vieilles Vignes 2018 – Famille Gras, Rhone South

Coteaux de Béziers Chardonnay Prestige 2022 – Chateau Preignes Le Neuf, Provence


Two-Course Dinner

Main course

Cider-braised roast ham hock with Jersey potatoes and spring peas

Dessert

Hot cross bun bread & butter pudding

Vegetarian/vegan options available on request

All masterclass wines available to buy by-the-glass or bottle

A Note from Firepit.

We have a challenge 25 policy. So please bring ID that proves you are over 18, if you are lucky enough to look under 25!

Masterclass starts at 6:00pm, you are welcome to come earlier and enjoy the gallery space.

Marcus with two of the fabulous guest Stephen . https://www.firepit.art

https://www.firepit.art