Xéniteia

I arrived at Brittany Ferry’s port at 9 o’clock on the dot. The satisfaction of having arrived on time was short lived. I immediately realised that I had forgotten my passport. After spending all afternoon preparing for this trip. Tying up all the loose ends. Getting all my work out of the way. Packing the right things and making sure that everything was in order before departure. And yet throughout the whole day it never even crossed my mind to pack my passport. I can honestly say that this has never happened to me before. I like to think that in my disorderly way of going about thing there is always some form of underling structure that ultimately leads to order. Is it not a common saying that “out of chaos comes order”? I was truly disappointed with myself for forgetting my passport. I had spent a good portion of the day going over the novel The Yellow Dog to ensure that I knew the book well enough and that I wouldn’t make a fool out of myself when it came to discussing it. And there I stood in front of Charlie and Denise, bag on my shoulder and laptop in hand, having achieved exactly what I had tried so hard to avoid. I looked like a fool. I had forgotten my passport, the most obvious of things.

I ask myself if the same thing would have happened to inspector Maigret. One of the reasons I engaged so well with the novel is the similarities I found between myself and the inspector. He is sharp-witted and observant. I like to think I share these characteristics with him. But maybe I think a little too highly of myself! Or am I just being too hard on myself! I put the mistake down to the fact that for the first time in a while I haven’t had to organize the trip personally, worry about making the booking or going through an online check-in. Luckily, despite there being little time to spare, I managed to go home, get my passport, and return to the port in time for departure. An hour later, as planned, the ferry set sail for Roscoff.