There were many thoughts circling through my brain as I sprinted barefoot from security check to my gate. But “If this plastic bag ends up costing me 500 Euros for a new flight – I’m going to be PISSED!!” was the one screaming loudest of all. After all, the dumb, argyle bag was supposed to SAVE us money, not the other way around! My friend and I really thought we were hacking the budget-travel game by investing three euros in new luggage. But there’s “budget travel”, and then there’s “the Nugget”. Our inability to distinguish between the two almost cost us BIG TIME.

The time budget travel hacking almost cost my $500 Euros.

Becca and I were flying from Ireland to Iceland for the final seven days of our three-week European adventure. At this point, we were pretty strapped for cash. “Balling on the budget” had taken on a whole new meaning. Like… the ‘eating-soda-bread-with-peanut-butter-three-times-a-day’ kind of meaning. Rumor has it that food is expensive in Iceland, but we were already MILES ahead of that. We decided to shamelessly purchase all of our groceries from an Aldi in Ireland and FLY them to Iceland.

This was a fool-proof idea, clearly.

However, our next hurdle was immediately realizing that we had no way to actually transport said food items. Becca and I had one backpack each to carry all of our personal items – and they were jam packed. We discussed this conundrum as we meandered around a flea market in Dublin – when Becca beelined to a nearby stand. 

“Hey! How ’bout this!”

She tugged out of the pile what can only be described as one of those plastic blue IKEA bags. Only this one had a zipper. To say it looked questionable would be an understatement. It was ludicrous. There was no way we could expect this glorified tote bag to embark on an international journey and live to tell the tale. BUT… it was only THREE EUROS, so we were sold. With our new bag in hand, we packed up our belongings and headed to the Dublin airport. 

Red flag number 1.

After arriving at the airport, I attempted to hoist our new luggage item onto our cart. IMMEDIATELY – and I mean INSTANTLY – both handles ripped off. The bag didn’t even move one inch off the ground, and now had two large holes. Believe it or not, this STILL didn’t deter us. A minor setback we thought, at least we have duct tape!

Our plane was delayed by over two hours – which was fortunate for us. It gave us time to rearrange our items in a way that was more conducive to travel (broccoli in the IKEA-esque bag, jar of Alfredo sauce in our day packs, that sort of thing). We plopped next to the bag check and spent the next hour maneuvering our items and duct taping the rips. When we were at a place where we were “feelin’ good”, we made our way to the check-in counter.

The Counter Lady glared at us as we lugged what we then referred to lovingly as “The Nugget” onto the scale. 

“You know… Your plane is boarding in five minutes.”

The Counter Lady informed us of this matter-of-factly as she scanned our passports without making eye-contact. Becca and I looked at her with utter disbelief and horror.

We told her that the sign indicated that we were delayed by over an hour. She told us that “signs can be wrong”. Becca let out an exasperated “SHIT!”, grabbed the duct tape, and began furiously covering every visible area of The Nugget. 

I was well aware of the fact that we could miss our flight. That we could potentially be out hundreds of dollars. That our final leg of our adventure in Europe could be cut short.

But something about the entire situation made me burst out in uncontrollable laughter.

Maybe it was watching my friend frantically wrap The Nugget in duct tape… or maybe it was the fact that The Counter Lady had watched us sort the contents of our bags for over an hour (most of were loose food items, like heads of cauliflower), without mentioning the fact that our plane was NOT, in fact, delayed. Becca, who also grasped the ridiculousness of our situation, immediately joined in on the laughter. Pretty soon, we were practically inconsolable.

The Counter Lady, who did not find our situation amusing in ANY way, begrudgingly informed us that we qualified for fast track security. She also pointed out that our “…bag…” needed to be taken to “odd-shaped luggage” for processing. Still cackling, we heaved The Nugget into our arms and, with combined effort, carried it like a sack of potatoes through the airport. 

The two working the conveyor belt glanced at The Nugget. It was almost as if they had never seen nincompoops pack a cheap plastic tote bag for an international flight. Nevertheless, they punched a few buttons on their keyboard and The Nugget rolled along the conveyor belt and disappeared into the void of checked luggage. 

We made it through the security check with ease, but we were completely unprepared for the marathon that awaited us. Over the loudspeaker, we heard the final call for our flight. Without taking the time to put shoes on, we scooped up our possessions and sprinted. We shoved our boarding passes and tickets at the man at the gate, and boarded the plane as it was LITERALLY ROLLING away from the gate. 

Our flight from Dublin to Reykjavik was roughly an hour long.

I’m pretty sure we spent that entire time silently and independently praying to every deity in the Heavens above that The Nugget was safe in the luggage hold below. And, better yet, would make it to Iceland without ripping to shreds and spilling its contents all over the place. Without it, we would have no tent, no stove, no tarp, no pre-bought food, and Becca would have no clothes. 

When we landed, we made our way to the luggage retrieval and watched bag after bag emerge from the hold. After 20 minutes there was still no sign of The Nugget. Panic started to set in. That bag was so unconventional for an airplane. We both assumed it had been taken aside and demolished by the Ireland equivalent of the FBI. Another 15 minutes went by, and The Nugget finally dumped down the chute and lazily rolled its way toward us. As if we had struck the lotto, we let out a cheer that made the heads of other passengers turn.

That’s all, folks!

And so goes the tale of how trying to ‘ball on the budget’ nearly cost my friend and I an estimated $500 Euros. We made it in the end. But was it worth it? Jury is still out.

Have you had a travel hacking mishap? Drop a comment below with your story!

Check out my ‘Top Things to do in Iceland‘ guide and my ‘Guide to Exploring Iceland on a Budget‘ for more inspiration!