{"id":8619,"date":"2022-09-24T21:37:54","date_gmt":"2022-09-24T19:37:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/cyclingdestination.cc\/?p=8619"},"modified":"2022-09-28T11:44:00","modified_gmt":"2022-09-28T09:44:00","slug":"the-day-my-bike-returned-from-holiday","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/cyclingdestination.cc\/en\/verhalen\/de-dag-dat-mijn-fiets-van-vakantie-terugkwam","title":{"rendered":"The day my bike returned from holiday"},"content":{"rendered":"

Admittedly, I never thought I would ever write this article. By now, I have been using air travel for over 20 years. In heyday, I sometimes flew as many as 10 times a year. Short or long distances, with or without hold luggage, with or without a bicycle. The longest delay I ever had was three hours. I don't wish three-hour delays on anyone, let alone with Cor and Don at a Turkish airport. And that Cor and Don are also on the plane. Even your worst enemy would rather wish a gentle slide. In all these years, I never missed a piece of luggage, or someone forgot to bring it for me. Until 27 June 2022. The day my bike went on a slightly longer holiday than I did. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\"cycling<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Text: Sander Kolsloot, photos: Kostas Karadimos<\/em>, Sander Kolsloot<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Back to the beginning<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

After a wonderful, short trip to Northern Greece<\/a>, where I was allowed to explore the region for a new event, I am at Thessaloniki airport early in the morning. My driver Lampros gives me another high-five and I put my bike case containing my - not yet a month old bike - with the 'odd-size' luggage. Funnily enough, I then think: 'as long as it comes'. Anyway, I laugh that away. Almost six hours later, from Thessaloniki, via Athens, I am waiting at the baggage carousel. Now bicycle luggage always takes a bit longer, but after 30 minutes I start to pinch it a bit. All around me I see piles of suitcases, prams, buggies and I don't know what else. It can't be? My bike had apparently booked an extra day on holiday.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\"thessaloniki<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
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\"baggage<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

In the queue<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Have you ever stood in a queue? Yes? Are you ever conscious of the time you spend in line? I dare say you often think you are in the queue longer than you actually are. Once, for a consultancy assignment, I was clocking waiting times at the entrance to a large exhibition centre. A man approached me wildly gesticulating and almost shouted: 'It's outrageous, I've stood in the queue for more than 20 minutes'. I was able to dryly inform him that he had waited exactly 9 minutes and 10 seconds. Ouch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Get in line!<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Back to 27 June. After an hour of waiting (really an hour, that is), I know enough. That bag is not going to come. Off to the office of AVIA PARTNERS<\/a>, the baggage handler. There I see a queue of about 10 men. The process is slow as pot syrup. Two people inside behind a desk, about 10 minutes per customer. Ai. that's going to take a really long time. A few times, out of the corner of my eye, I see another black pannier on a luggage belt, but each time it's a false alarm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\"cycling<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Horror stories<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Everyone experiences setbacks differently. Some become instant hypochondriacs or hyperventilate. Others turn it into a party and everything in between. Once I join the queue, I hear horror stories about suitcases that have been lost for months. I quickly make 'friends' and somehow I help people fill in necessary forms. In English, Italian and 'tapas-Spanish', I have done my good deed of the day. An American lady walks out of the hall with her suitcase to loud cheers. A reassuring sight. Meanwhile, I notice a lot of commotion in the queue. A mid-week in the Netherlands is off to a bad start for a few Greeks. A man in a suit walks wildly gesticulating in and out of the little office. When I ask someone if maybe we could get a cup of coffee, I get a strange look. This is not going well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Friendly<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Once it's my turn, a friendly, red-haired guy helps me with my claim. He says: oh that suitcase is probably in Athens, they usually send it on the first flight tomorrow. Great! I get a receipt with a reference number on it. I can track everything via an online system. Annoying, but yes. The whole process took almost two (2!) hours. With an alarm clock going off at three in the morning, that's no fun. Back on the train, I blow off the stress for a while. It will be fine, I remind myself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Long wait<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Then the long wait begins. At first, I am still in good spirits. I think: after two days I will get in touch. Two days becomes a week. A week becomes a month and in all this time there is NO ONE who lets me hear anything. I call AEGEAN, the airline, several times during this period. There I end up in a jumble of call centre ladies and gentlemen who ask extremely kindly if I would like to send an email. The answer to that mail never comes. The online system shows no change. Is it going to end in a minor way after all? The system allows you to contact baggage handling. Nothing no response. You can't call them, just e-mail them. Only after a month (!) do I get word that the suitcase 'according to the system is somewhere at Schiphol'. I am relieved. Pleased, I e-mail if I can't come and collect it. No response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Wasting time looking at pictures of my bike<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Baggage seekers and other assistance dogs<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Meanwhile, I posted some messages on LinkedIn. People are offering to help. I hear nothing from AVIA PARTNER or from AEGEAN, but others still want to help search. My parents, back from a trip to Italy, are also among the suitcases at Schiphol Airport. Enquiries at the ticket office bring them no further. Through the grapevine, others offer to ask friends. I have acquaintances at the ANWB Emergency Centre, but they don't know how to get on with this either. It becomes almost surreal. Friends who laughingly ask me if they still need to ask about it. About my bike. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Change of food<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

When I have an appointment at Oneway Distribution at the end of August, the conversation comes back to my bike anyway. As a joke, I quickly check the system to make a good joke of it. I am startled: it says 'delivery process initiated'. It's going to happen! I jump up from the sofa and both Carola (OWD) and Ruben look at me in amazement. I am stunned. My bike is coming back! It is 19 August, almost two months after my flight from Thessaloniki. But then things remain quiet again. I email with AVIA PARTNERS. No response, except a \"what's your reference number\", even though it's written in the subject in cow letters. Nothing, nothing at all. At some point when I start emailing daily, something seems to happen, but still no concrete date for delivery. I'm just going to bide my time along the Vuelta Parcours. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Let off some steam at La Vuelta Holanda in Utrecht<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Thursday 22 September<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The Netherlands is playing in Warsaw against Poland for Nations League football. I am watching Better Call Saul with a slanted eye. My thoughts wander a bit. Then suddenly the bell rings. Slowly I rise from my chair. 'I didn't order anything, did I?' I think to myself. Probably another collection or something. When I open the door, my mouth falls open in surprise. There it is! My bike! Or rather, the suitcase, in which my bike should be. I am speechless. After a few moments without words, I fall into the delivery man's arms. He's at a loss for words. 'You had to wait a while for that?' he asks, laughing. 'Three months,' I reply. He can't believe it. Happy, he poses, for an ultimately eventful photo, for an eventful period. Bizarre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\"bike<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The suitcase is in one piece, the bike is in one piece, everything is still in the bag. I just can't believe it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Take a deep breath<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I am writing this story two days after I got my suitcase back. I had a chance to breathe in, breathe out and take it all in. You can read this story as a story of someone who was borderline desperate at times. Someone who woke up at night and suddenly thought 'shit, he's not coming back, how am I going to manage that again?' You could also read it as a slightly exaggerated story of a suitcase that was in a different place for a while. Hadn't gone flying then, it's just a bike. No big deal. It doesn't matter to me. I wanted to share this story partly for the sake of losing it, but also because there are learnings in it that go beyond getting a suitcase back or the stress you can have that something you have on loan is not returned. For me, it was hugely stressful and I will explain why.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Points of (no) return<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I now have quite a bit of experience in work where I have or have had customer contact. As an entrepreneur, but also previously as a commercial force and consultant, I have found that customer contact and communication are important. In this whole process, I mainly missed that: communication. Nowhere could I get up-to-date or reliable information about the status of my luggage. Whether the bike is worth \u20ac5 or \u20ac6000 doesn't matter. It is and remains my bike, owned by someone else at the time. Trust is a big thing then. You build trust by having contact with people. That was completely absent. The airline didn't do anything at all and the people at AVIA PARTNERS were so riled up that they just switched off the phone. The 10-day email processing time was never met. Never. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stress<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

It caused a lot of stress. I just couldn't process that well. If you don't know anything or only get summary info, you have to trust the process. That's tough when you already don't trust the organisation. The bizarre thing of all is that the suitcase had been at Schiphol since 29 June (so 2 days later). For over two and a half months, it was waiting in a basement somewhere. That process really could have been faster. So it was ultimately unnecessary stress. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Loan<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

One of the things that contributed to my stress was having gear on loan. The bike and wheels both belonged to different partners I work with. The cost of replacement would well exceed my insurance coverage. That created additional financial stress. In addition, all my belongings were also in the bag. My clothes, my pedals, my shoes (!). Everything. It was\/is just stuff, but you can't just buy everything new if you don't know if it will be returned. With communication, that could have saved a lot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What also stressed me out myself was the idea of having to go through the whole process of insurance. The longer the time went on, the more indifferent I became, but also the more I thought I actually had to go and make the claim. Receipts, hassles, you name it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tips after this experience<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

All's well that ends well. The bike is back and everything is in one piece. The clothes smell a bit musty, but nothing Ariel can't wash. If you ever fly, there is always a risk that your luggage will arrive later than you. In the current situation (autumn 2022) with hassles at Schiphol, it's tricky anyway. Here are some handy tips (also from the Open Door Foundation)<\/p>\n\n\n\n