The Baggage Claim

A Travel Plan That Never Took Off

I landed in Bangalore yesterday, full of noble intentions and ambitious plans. I had one and a half working days at my disposal, another half on the 18th, and a well-crafted mental itinerary that included catching up with friends, relatives, and possibly even my own self.

Naturally, none of that happened.

Instead, I spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at my suitcase, wondering why I had carried three books but no visitors’ cards, four pairs of shoes but nothing that remotely resembled a complete outfit. Somewhere between my efficient, hand-washing, bare-minimum-traveling younger self and my current state of chaotic overpacking, something had changed. I had stopped making lists, stopped planning my stay with precision, and—most unforgivably—forgotten to bring the customary thank-you gifts.

One does not simply ‘wing it’ unless one enjoys mild existential crises at the baggage carousel. Before even booking tickets, setting an intention for the trip is key. Is it professional networking? Personal bonding? Sightseeing? A culinary pilgrimage? If I had articulated my goal beforehand, I might have realized that I needed business cards more than an extra set of heels.

Packing is where I went off the rails. The younger me, the one who hand-washed her travel wardrobe, would be horrified. A capsule wardrobe should have been the goal: mix-and-match neutrals, one or two statement pieces, and a scarf that doubles as an accessory, blanket, or emergency turban if needed. The handbag—oh, the handbag—should always have the essentials: ID, cards, chargers, and in my case, visitor cards I actually remember to take out and use.

Staying with family and friends is lovely in theory. It comes with warmth, familiar food, and inside jokes, but also unsolicited life advice and someone waking you up at 6 a.m. with a concerned, “You’re still sleeping?” An Airbnb offers solitude and control over your schedule, but then again, who wants to figure out how the geyser works at an ungodly hour? A mix of both might be the answer—two nights with family, one night in an Airbnb, and one escape plan in case things go south.

Had I planned better, I would have set up coffee dates, sent messages beforehand, and scheduled quick catch-ups that didn’t eat into my work hours. But instead, I operated on a vague “we should meet” basis, which, as expected, resulted in exactly zero meetings. Even worse, I realized I hadn’t carried gifts—what happened to my once impeccable habit of bringing little tokens of appreciation? A bag of homemade snacks, a book, or even just a heartfelt note—small gestures that say, “I thought of you.”

One of my only concrete plans was to visit a board game café in Bangalore. Did I go? Of course not. I got distracted by the general logistics of my life and found myself, instead, scrolling through Google Maps with great enthusiasm but zero execution. This is where pre-scheduling comes in—had I just picked a time and put it in my calendar, I would have made it.

So, dear reader, what have we learned?

1. Set an intention—know what your trip is about.
2. Pack wisely, not like someone blindly throwing things into a suitcase.
3. Plan accommodation based on sanity, not just nostalgia.
4. Network like you mean it—schedule those meetings.
5. Actually show up for your leisure plans.

As I look at my half-used suitcase and my missed opportunities, I tell myself: next time, I’ll be better. But let’s be honest—I’ll probably still carry books I won’t read, shoes I won’t wear, and, somehow, forget my visitor’s card again.