Paddington Bear and the Misplaced Ticket

Paddington Bear had packed everything he needed for his long-anticipated trip to Ukraine: a suitcase full of marmalade sandwiches, his red hat, his blue coat, and, most importantly, a little notebook of phrases he’d learned in Ukrainian. He had promised his dear friend Eva that they would visit children’s shelters together, deliver hugs and teddy bears, and attend a concert in a field of sunflowers outside Odesa.

Paddington had never been to Ukraine before, but he was quite excited — especially since Eva would be travelling with him. She was kind and clever, and always seemed to know where she was going. Or so Paddington thought.

On the morning of their departure, the two friends met at the train station in London, both with large suitcases and beaming smiles. “You’ve remembered your passport, I hope?” asked Eva, tucking a teddy bear under her arm. “Of course,” said Paddington proudly, holding it up with a paw. “And I’ve brought marmalade for the whole train.”

Everything was going rather well until they reached the airport. Paddington had noticed, rather curiously, that the departure board did not show any flights to Kyiv or Lviv or even Warsaw. Instead, Eva waved two tickets and said, “It’s all right, Paddington — we’re flying to Bergen!”

“Bergen?” said Paddington, blinking. “But isn’t that in Norway?”

Eva paused, looked at the ticket, looked at the large wooden troll sculpture beside the check-in counter, and then gave a very small squeak. “Oh dear”, she said. “I may have clicked the wrong button on the booking site. I thought Boryspil looked like Bergen if I squinted.”

Paddington didn’t mind too much. “It’s a very nice mistake”, he said cheerfully. “But it’s going to make us very late for the teddy bear tea party in Kharkiv.”

They spent the evening in Norway, where Eva apologised profusely while feeding Paddington warm cinnamon buns and hot cocoa under a blanket of northern lights. “It’s really all right”, said Paddington kindly. “We’re already doing good just by trying.”

The next morning, after much rerouting, three train rides, two flights, and one helpful conductor who accepted a marmalade sandwich as payment, Paddington and Eva finally arrived in Ukraine. They were met at the station by a crowd of smiling children and a basket full of handmade teddy bears.

“You’re late!” called one girl, giggling, as she hugged Paddington. “We saved you a seat next to the band!”

Paddington bowed politely and said in careful Ukrainian, “Pereproshuiu… my zupynylysʹ u Norehiyi!” — “I’m terribly sorry… we were delayed in Norway!”

And everyone laughed.

Eva squeezed Paddington’s paw. “Next time, you book the flights.”

“I will”, he said, “but only if you promise to sit by the window.”

That evening, as music filled the air and stars blinked softly above the sunflower fields, Paddington thought to himself that being late didn’t matter so much when you still arrived with love.