Dropped. Squashed. Lost. Dropped. Lost. Survived.
No, that’s not a strange new take on the fates of Henry VIII’s wives; it’s actually the fate of my sunglasses during my travels over the last few years!
Sadly, among my family and friends, it’s become expected that I’ll either lose or damage a pair on each and every trip. I now merely get teasing and rolled eyes when I tell them it’s happened yet again. And I really try not to!
Thankfully on this occasion (in Lucca, Italy) it wasn’t the actual Ray-bans, but my still-much-prized protective soft-touch case.
Sure, it could’ve been worse. But it’s just the latest in a long line of sunnies-related woes; a curse which I seem destined never to be able to shake off.
A glorious bike ride in the sunshine around the walls of this picturesque medieval city, it had been practically perfect right up until the moment when I realised. My jacket pocket was wide open and it was gone. *Quick search for the glasses themselves, only to realise they were on my head. Phew* Not wanting to spoil the moment – my friend Claire had just arrived and was taking her first foray into the city – I later retraced my steps, but to no avail. The case had long gone.
After surviving the whole of the last 18 months’ worth of outings and holidays unscathed, I thought my curse was long banished. Perhaps I was too quick to relax.
I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way to make myself feel better is to blog about the annoying misfortune. Yes I’ll buy another case, but it’s what it means that frustrates me more – a bit of teasing and extra vigilance next time I go away. And a stark reminder of my terrible history with shades!
My unfortunate history with sunglasses
- Dropped. In a port in Grenada while climbing into a boat. They caught on the safety net first and then, as I sighed in relief and bent down to get them, continued to slip tantalisingly slowly over the net and into the water.
- Squashed. On a bus in Barcelona. I’d bought a new pair to take with me and, when I got off at Gaudi Park, I quickly realised that they’d been in my back pocket and were squashed beyond repair.
- Lost. On a plane to Mexico. I’d treated myself to a brand new pair of sunglasses in a shop at Gatwick Airport, all ready for my holiday. When I got to the hotel I realised that I didn’t have them with me and they must’ve fallen out of my bag on the plane.
- Dropped. On a picnic in a park in London. I’d been given a lovely, expensive pair of sunglasses which I accidentally dropped on the way across the park. I picked them up again but when I went to put them on later, one of the lenses had gone. A fruitless search of everywhere I’d been in the park followed. I tried to get the lens replaced in a couple of shops, but was told they’d have to be sent away and the price was ridiculously high.
- Lost. My next pair were left behind in a restaurant in Brussels. I never managed to get them back.
- Survived. Just. For now. Minus the case.
Similar experiences?
I’d like to hope that anyone reading my blog doesn’t have similar experiences with losing or leaving things behind, but I’d be interested to know. If you do… what is it? Anything you really shouldn’t have lost? Go on, make me feel a bit better about my carelessness!
Update: the curse has lifted?
Had to update this post to let you know that I actually found a pair of sunglasses!
Yep, looking for a sunny reading spot one day in Lucca, I found a place to rest for a while on top of its medieval wall, and, laying there in the grass was a pair of black sunnies!
They’re only cheap-ish ones and there was nobody else around so I figured they’d probably been accidentally left there by some other unfortunate person with a sunglasses curse. Now I have two pairs of shades and no case.
But I still felt slightly vindicated.
