People think airports are full of things left behind.
A phone forgotten beside a departure gate. A passport rescued from a security tray. A jacket abandoned on a chair by someone already running towards their flight.
They picture the things that can be labelled, stored and returned.
But the things truly lost at airports never reach the lost property desk.
Time.
Curiosity.
The moments that lie between departures and arrivals.
I should know. I’ve spent years watching them.
I used to love airports. I wore baggage tags like medals and measured the world in numbers:
Bristol – Belt 9.
Lisbon – Belt 3.
Dublin – probably another number I’d forget.
Every journey was the same from the belly of an aircraft.
Darkness.
Take-off.
Landing.
Another sticker.
Another place reached but not discovered.
Then my owner stopped flying whenever he could.
At first, I hated it.
My wheels collected scratches from railway platforms and cobbled streets. I missed the polished floors of airports and the certainty of a baggage carousel. I waited in the rain instead of disappearing beneath aircraft. The journey became slower, messier… longer.
Then something unexpected happened.
For the first time, I stayed with the journey.
I watched coastlines melt into mountains through train windows. I rested beneath café tables instead of airport seats. I carried a reusable bottle instead of another disposable one. I learnt that the best souvenirs weren’t bought in duty free but discovered in conversations that only happened because there was finally time for them.
Soon we’ll make another journey – to Trinity College Dublin.
The sea has to be crossed, but this time I won’t disappear into clouds. I’ll feel the ship move beneath me, watch the coastline fade behind us and see Ireland slowly emerge from the horizon ahead.
Once we arrive, the city will reveal itself slowly: the Luas trams carrying us through Dublin’s streets. Dublin Bus connecting the city. Irish Rail carrying us beyond the capital, where Ireland’s green landscapes unfold. A TFI Leap Card replacing countless paper tickets – a reminder that sustainable choices are often the simplest ones.
A reusable cup will hang from my handle. My wheels will find pavements and platforms rather than conveyor belts and cargo holds.
The lightest thing I’m carrying isn’t a jumper.
It’s a new way of seeing the world.
Funny really.
I spent years collecting proof that I had travelled: stickers, tags and numbers.
I thought they meant I’d discovered somewhere new, but they had only proved I’d visited.
And those old numbers I carried so proudly?
Bristol – 9.
Lisbon – 3.
They told me where to wait.
The new ones tell me how to travel.
11.
12.
13.
The United Nations Sustainable Development Goals.
Not destinations.
Directions.
Those are the only numbers worth bringing home.
References
1. United Nations Sustainable Development Goals – www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment
Resources
1. Luas – www.luas.ie
2. Irish Rail – www.irishrail.ie
3. TFI Leap Card – www.leapcard.ie
4. Dublin Bus – www.dublinbus.ie
