An airport employee explains why you should never tie a ribbon to your luggage

Ouadie Rhabbouron

Here are some simple and effective tips:

  • Bright colours or original prints  : a bright red suitcase or one with geometric patterns is easily spotted on the conveyor belt.
  • Flat and discreet stickers  : place them away from the label so as not to interfere with the scanner.
  • Customization with ink  : a small drawing or your first name on the fabric or hard case adds a unique touch.
  • Printed protectors  : they protect your suitcase from dirt and wear while remaining visible.
  • Remove the old labels  : a simple step that avoids any confusion and speeds up the passage through the automatic conveyor belts.

Be careful about certain foods in your luggage.

Some very dense products, such as marzipan or compact pastries, can generate suspicious images when scanned and lead to further inspection.

To avoid this unnecessary stress: carry them in your hand luggage or buy them directly at your destination. A small habit that greatly simplifies going through security.

Quick tips to extend the life of your suitcase

Another often overlooked detail: the position of your suitcase at the check-in counter. Placing it with the wheels facing upwards reduces the impact on the conveyor belts and limits wear and tear on the wheels. A simple step that makes your suitcase last longer and avoids unpleasant surprises.

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“I married a woman thirty years older than me—despite my family’s strong objections. But on our wedding night, I uncovered a secret that changed everything. My name is Arjun Mehra. I’m twenty years old, about 180 cm tall, and currently in my second year at one of New Delhi’s top universities. Until recently, my life was simple—classes, exams, and future plans. That all changed the day I met Kavita Rao. She was sixty—graceful, composed, and impossible to ignore. Once the owner of a successful chain of luxury restaurants in Mumbai, she had stepped away from business and lived a quiet, private life. We met at a charity event in Gurugram. While others tried to stand out with loud conversations and laughter, Kavita remained calm and reserved. Her silver hair reflected the light, and her presence alone drew attention without effort. A few days later, she invited me to her mansion in South Delhi for tea. What I expected to be a short, polite visit turned into hours of meaningful conversation. She spoke openly about her life—early success, a marriage that ended without conflict, and a loneliness that lingered despite her achievements. She had everything—wealth, status, respect—except someone to truly share it with. Somewhere in those conversations, I realized I cared deeply for her. Not because of what she owned, but because she understood life in a way most people my age didn’t. Three months later, during a rainy evening, I told her I wanted to spend my life with her—no matter the age difference. The backlash was immediate. My family accused me of being after her money. My father called it disgraceful. My mother cried for days. Friends whispered behind my back. Eventually, I chose to walk away from all of them. We got married at her villa, with only a few of her close business associates present. I was the youngest person in the room—and I could feel every judgmental glance. That night, alone together as husband and wife, the atmosphere felt heavy and quiet. Kavita sat beside me and handed me a thick folder. Inside were documents—properties in Mumbai, ownership papers, and keys to a luxury car. I was overwhelmed. “I don’t want any of this,” I told her. “That’s not why I married you.” She studied me carefully before speaking, her tone calm but firm. “Arjun, you need to understand something,” she said. “Loneliness isn’t the only reason I chose you. I need someone to carry on what I’ve built.” Her words unsettled me. She explained that she had no children, and her wealth—worth hundreds of crores—would otherwise fall into the hands of distant relatives waiting for their chance. “I want it to go to you,” she said quietly. “But there’s one condition.” The room suddenly felt smaller. My voice tightened as I asked, “What condition?” She held my gaze steadily… and began to explain.