We all did stupid things when we were young.

I’m ashamed to admit that one of the sillier things I did in my teenage years was to dispose of my Tintin books.

After a while I realised my mistake, and started collecting them again, book by book. (I decided I preferred the full-size versions, not the 3-in-1 small editions.)

It’s taken me a few years, but last week I finally got the last one to complete the collection*: Flight 714.

Actually since I first owned it, they’ve amended the name to Flight 714 To Sydney, to better match the original French title, though I suspect I’ll always know it as just Flight 714.

When I bought it at Dymocks (their end of financial year 20% off sale) I had to ask for it at the Special Orders counter. I asked the lady why this was the case, and she said that Tintin books, apparently more than anything else in the store, let alone the graphic novel section, get stolen a lot.

Who knew? Apparently there’s a trade in stolen Tintin books. They’re probably smuggled inside statues with broken ears.

Re-reading it brought back some happy memories. Though I got the biggest laugh out of a bit I’d forgotten about, with the Proboscis monkey. And I like the mystery of their rescue.

*My collection does not include The Lake Of Sharks. I originally owned it, but it was not actually written by Herge, and the story is pretty naff. And actually, I don’t have Alph-Art, his uncompleted final work, either, and I don’t really want Land of Soviets. I do have a lovely edition of the original version of Congo that my sister gave me, and a number of very good books about Tintin.