Not too posh to push
Sarah Standing on the wheel appeal of luxury luggage Long-haul is a term that should really be used to describe any journey taken with luggage that doesn't have wheels. Getting from A to B with a suitcase nowadays is made completely hellish. Fine for the very young to lug laptops and bags the length of Terminal 4 en route to Gate 26, but murderous for those not in the first flush of youth and with a vaguely dodgy back. 'Basically, it was always considered incredibly common to own a suitcase with wheels,' asserts Nicholas Haslam, voicing the unspoken resistance many travellers have towards making their journeys more bearable. 'But that was back in the days when it was easy to find a porter. Now I long to be a trolley dolly. It's the only way forward. Wheels are essential.'
I would like to add my own codicil: it's also imperative to make sure any wheels attached to a suitcase are of a superior quality — otherwise you find yourself going forwards and backwards. And sideways. It's a false economy. Dealing with dubious wheels in motion is like walking a stroppy puppy that refuses to come to heel. I once made the big mistake of buying five cheap wheelies from a shop in the Edgware Road and quickly discovered that the reason they were so inexpensive was that none of the wheels worked in unison. It was like dancing with a partner totally devoid of rhythm. With luggage you get what you pay for. We trekked to Victoria Station to catch the Gatwick Express swaying like an ignominious family of drunks, nipping at one another's ankles before finally ending up in the gutter. My husband eventually got so cross with his misbehaving wheels that he yanked the case up by the handle and dislocated his shoulder. Never again.
A good suitcase is an investment and can easily last a lifetime Think of it as an insurance policy. It has to travel vast distances across oceans, continents and even crosscountry while housing our most prized possessions, so it's worth spending serious money on. Now that the world's become our affordable oyster, it's time to dig deep for the pearl. The utilitarian, classless 'boarding-school chic' of a sturdy Globetrotter (www.globe-trotterltd.com) has an appeal that transcends trends.
Rachel Johnson loves the aesthetics of the Globetrotter and now that they come with wheels she thinks they're the perfect compromise, possessing both substance and style. For years she's martyred herself by sticking to her husband's strict rule of only taking as many cases as there are grown-ups on holiday. As a consequence she's always shared with her children, squeezing in little more for herself than a sponge-bag and a change of clothes. 'Wheels do make going anywhere easier,' she concedes. 'It means the kids can push their own luggage, which is a massive bonus. I miss porters, but I guess that's what disappears with the democratisation of travel.'
In order to make room for DIY travel to work efficiently, airports have expanded and old-fashioned comfort, service and luxury have gradually diminished. Paul Theroux maintains that travelling is only ever glamorous in retrospect, and it certainly seems that way as one disembarks from Cheap Jet, semi-crippled ti from hours jack-knifed into a sedentary position with one's feet mum- " g mified from wearing DVT socks. The thrill and convenience of jet7.. setting now exists only for first-class passengers and those flying with non-commercial airlines.
'Hand luggage weighs a ton on the long and winding road to the departure gate,' sighs Vanity Fair travel editor Victoria Mather. 'It's as if one is walking to one's destination — why bother with the plane at all? And on arrival is there ever a trolley for the laptop bag, the duty-free and the Birkin? No. It's an interminable stagger to the steaming queue for immigration. Let wheels roll: there's nothing as common as having a bad back.'
After decades spent travelling with flimsy cases I've decided to give myself a first-class upgrade. I now own a sleek, black-on-black Tumi Expandable Extended Trip (£495). Tumi is the Rolls-Royce of luggage. It has a steel cage sturdy enough to sling a laptop into, a body you can enlarge to cope with frenzied shopping sprees, zippered compartments and a unique electronic 'tracer' that reunites registered customers with lost or stolen luggage. Most importantly, it has wheels that obediently glide in total silence. Too posh to push? Not likely — I now think pushing is the only way out of airport hell.
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