“Oh, so you’re going abroad? Can you bring me back…..?” I’ve been asked to bring back a vaccine for a course. Once I searched the suburbs of Paris for two days for a special brand of ceramic paint. Having spent a lot of money for Cartier lighter refills, I had them confiscated at the airport just before boarding because the gas might be dangerous in the air.

Now, two months before a trip, I stop talking to people so they won’t suspect I’m about to travel. But someone always catches me.” I’ve heard you’re going to New York, and I want you to get something for me. It’s just a little thing you can find anywhere. I don’t know exactly how much it costs, but it shouldn’t be much. We’ll settle up when you get back”.

What Gilson asked me to buy was, in fact a little thing: a tie. But not just any tie. He wanted a tie with a small embroidered G. Any colour would do, as long as it had his initial. Look, this is a special flight, I explained. We are only staying Saturday through Tuesday. On the day we arrived I didn’t have time to think about the tie, but strolling around on Sunday I did see one shop window. They were cheap, just a dollar, but all the shops were closed.

It was only when I saw our airport bus waiting outside the hotel that I remembered the tie. I told the group to go on. I would get a taxi to the airport. And so I went in search of a nearby shop where I had seen ties. But I couldn’t find it. I walked further down the street-one, two, three blocks - all in vain. Back at the hotel, a bit anxious now, I took my suitcase, got a taxi and asked the driver to rush to the street where I had seen them. The driver stopped at each shop we passed so I could look from the window. The stores had all sorts of ties, but not the kind I was looking for. When I finally thought I had located the right shop, I decided to go in and check. The driver refused to wait. Parking was prohibited, he said. I promised to double the fare, jumped out and ran into the shop. Was I going to miss the plane just for a damned tie? The salesman was unbearably slow. When I realized that the smallest change I had was a ten dollar note, I grabbed ten ties of different colours so I wouldn’t have to wait for change. I rushed out with the ties in a paper bag.

On the street I looked around. The taxi had vanished, taking my suitcase. What is more, I was going to miss the plane. I ran to the corner, and hope flared up again: the taxi was waiting in the next street. Quick to the airport! As I settled down inside the taxi. I sighed with relief. Gilson was going to have enough initialized ties to last him a lifetime.