Tim Dowling, a writer who has lived in the UK for 35 years, recently experienced a moment of linguistic confusion during a band tour. He describes the incident in his column, where his use of the word 'valise' instead of 'holdall' caused amusement among his bandmates and others.
The Tour and the Accommodation Problem
Dowling's band was nearing the end of its tour, with two nights at Victoria Hall in Settle, headlining a weekend festival. The weather was sunny as they arrived, and the festival was already underway. However, touring had taken a toll on their equipment, and in the green room, musicians were changing strings and swapping faulty cables. Wives began arriving by train, and Dowling realized that the late-night convoy to their accommodation—a Travelodge 30 miles away—would have one more passenger than seats. He worried about being the one left behind.
Seeking a Ride
Dowling raised the issue with the drummer, who counted band members and wives on his fingers but forgot to include Dowling. When pointed out, the drummer said, 'Don't worry, we'll work it out.' As the band's set began, nothing had been resolved, and Dowling was the unseated passenger. In a panic, he approached the festival organizer, who was talking to singer-songwriter Amber Lilly. Midway through his story, Amber Lilly interrupted, offering a lift. 'We can give you a lift,' she said, pointing to her partner, who held car keys with a surprised expression.
The Search for the Bag
Dowling ran to the dressing room to collect his overnight bag, but it wasn't there. He searched the stage wings, then considered he might have left it in Manchester. After running up and down stairs, the drummer asked what he was looking for. Dowling replied, 'It's, you know, a valise.' Everyone turned to look at him. 'A valise?' the drummer said, and the stage crew sniggered. Dowling explained it was a soft bag with a peaked roof and handles on either side, a Christmas gift from his wife. 'Valise,' he repeated, his face reddening. 'Look it up. Thirty-five years I've lived in this country, and one slip can still make me feel like a foreigner.'
Finding the Valise
While Dowling searched behind stage curtains, the guitarist walked in with his bag, which had been left in a car. People shouted his name. 'We found your valise!' someone yelled, and the room erupted in laughter. Dowling showed the bag to Amber Lilly's partner and asked, 'What do you call one of these in your language?' 'A holdall,' he replied, 'because it literally holds all.' Dowling looked at his bag and said, 'It literally doesn't,' but then thought, 'Shut up; he's giving you a lift.'
Reflection and Wife's Understanding
Dowling wished his wife were there to understand the setback. When he told her the next day, she laughed but got it. 'I've been using holdall as a synonym for duffel bag,' he said. 'All these years.' She replied, 'Well, you're not wrong.' He explained his bag was more structured with a peak, like a Gladstone bag or a grip. 'I was never going to come up with that,' he said. 'I'm just thankful I didn't say portmanteau,' he added. 'They'd still be laughing.'
That conversation was 12 hours later; at the time, Dowling was in the backseat of Amber Lilly's car, following the band's van twice around a roundabout outside Skipton until a Travelodge appeared. 'Thank you so much for this,' he said, opening the door. 'Don't forget your valise,' said Amber Lilly.
