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I'm sorry doesn't put my suitcase in my hand, now does it?
I'm sorry doesn't put my suitcase in my hand, now does it?
For hundreds of international attendees, it might be harder to get to Cannes in one piece than to win a Lion—in the first few days, amid the reunions and hugs, talk invariably turns to the journey and how confoundingly difficult it was. Lost luggage, canceled flights and more missed connections than Craigslist were among the tales being told as delegates limped to the Riviera Sunday and Monday. Our hats go off to the lady who battled a teenager intent on making off with her suitcase at the baggage claim in Nice, then locked herself on the balcony of her apartment in her underwear. It seems thieves were exploiting the long distance passengers had to travel to baggage claim when jumbo jets land at Nice, giving rise to the term "Cannes casual"—an ensemble based on the £35 British Airways lost luggage stipend.

Creativity made it to the Riviera more or less intact, but had a strange portent somewhere over the Atlantic, when something cut through the sleeping pill and we woke up to the plane's dozen screens full of Coke's "Happiness Factory." Just when we'd chalked it up to the hallucinogenic effects of new-fangled snooze aids, we flipped open the in-flight publication, the Holland Herald, and saw a full-page Coke Side of Life ad—of course, we're on KLM and someone at Wieden Kennedy Amsterdam has made a smart media buy.
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