by Corinne Purtill
I checked the bag in Johannesburg. By the time it rolled wearily from the luggage carousel in Cape Town, its cheap lock had been sawed away. Inside my zipper bags were unzipped, the neatly folded piles kerfuffled in search of a trinket to exchange for a few desperate rand. On the Richter scale of travel misadventures, it was a minor tremor. I wasn't even miffed. Until, that is, I examined more closely and realized they had decided that I had nothing worth taking after all.
Corinne Purtill is a freelance writer based in New York City.