Dear Creator of mine,

I am exhausted, I am really exhausted. Let me explain.

I was born just one of many, but nine years ago you sold me to some Dutch travel maniac, Jiddu, and my life got turned up site down. He has given me love and affection and I have become an individual character. However, it has been a classic example of ‘no pain, no game’.

It all started in Australia. I was dragged through the outback, getting dusty and sunburned. In the excruciating heat Jiddu stuffed me till my belly was almost popping with 25+ kilos of unnecessary rubbish. The weight was so unbearable I could hardly enjoy the beauty of AU and NZ. Glad as I was when the year was over it turned out to be only the beginning. Some of the situations he put me through:

• He ignored me for hours at days on end lying scarily close to the side of the road as stuck his thumb up to passing traffic.
• Once he took me to Ireland. It was summer, but that does not matter because it rains there all year round. I was soaked.
• Jeep and bus rides shake me to pieces. The bumps threatening to throw me off the roof as Jiddu sits safety inside. Once, on the top of a bus a stranger even came up and emptied my top compartment. There was nothing I could do to keep Jiddu’s items safe, I was tied up.
• He burned me several times ironing on his favourite batches of places we visited. I carry flags of all kinds of countries, a plastic fish and a Leprechaun. It is such an obvious show off that it has become embarrassing.
• Several groups of little Nepali children (the ones that shout ‘Sweet? Chocolate?”) have even strangled poor Leprechaun when they clutched him around the neck and Jiddu stubbornly continued walking.
• He soaks me with his disgusting sweat. It is revolting. Can you believe that only twice, yes just two times in 9 years, did he wash my back cushion. I know this part of me was designed to absorb his dirty moisture but this is getting absurd.
• I froze when I was laid bare in Himalayan snow at 5000+ meter altitudes, whilst choking on a lack of oxygen.
• I’ve been kept awake many nights with the Indian temple music blaring in the local village. And the traffic there gives me heart attacks.
• Bus and tuk-tuk drivers drag me and throw me by my wrap straps, tearing my limbs apart instead of gently using my shoulder straps or handles.

But I won’t break. I won’t let him damage a single clip, zip or strap. I won’t even share with him any of the discomfort that I endure myself. I will shape to fit to his back perfectly till his days are done. Jiddu will not outlast me!

Love,
Bach the bag

This note I (Jiddu) wrote to praise Bach backpacks. The quality, endurance and comfort of a bag usually become apparent  when things are wrong. In my very long time with my bag this has not been the case.

It is probably the best purchase I ever made! Visit the Bach backpacks website to view their products.

Jiddu Alexander