“Dave, if anything happens to my passport, I am sure there is a consulate somewhere in the Czech Republic. I will simply go to the Canadian Embassy and get another one.”
This was my snippy response to my husband’s kind and well-intended advice. Dave is an experienced world traveller, an all-star planner, and meticulous about processes. However, given my 58 years on this planet, I can take care of my own passport.
When my passport went missing after disembarking from the first flight from Toronto to Frankfurt, I was not distressed about being stranded in a foreign country as one might have been. I was not upset that I could not speak the foreign language of that country, nor was I troubled that some stranger was in the process of stealing my identity. No…. At that moment, my first thoughts shot back to my snarky retort to Dave.
It was obvious that my passport was stolen. My mind raced to find logical suspects. Was it a criminal entrepreneur disguised as a flight attendant? Was it the good-looking-turned-creepy guy who sat across the aisle from me? Or it could have been a team of crafty thieves aboard Flight 471 on a passport-stealing spree.
While curled up in a nap ball, squeezed in my tiny seat conducive to blissful sleeping, the passport perps maneuvered through the maze of clothing, blankets and pillows, unzipped my waist belt attached to my midsection that contained my identification, and stole my passport! How fortunate for me that the thieves had the decency to leave my five credit cards and driver’s licence also stored in my pouch. They had the courtesy to re-zip my waist belt closed and tucked me back in. I slept through the entire ordeal.
Earlier, when we boarded Flight 471, Joey (my son and travel buddy) got comfortable in his reserved, best seat on the plane—one with ample legroom that could accommodate a polka dance with his European neighbour occupying the window seat. Megan (Joey’s girlfriend) and I were last-minute add-ons to the flight and were relegated to a three-seat row further back in the plane. A window seat for Megan and a middle seat for me. As per Joey’s earlier request in hopes of all sitting together (and before he realized the magnificence of his current seat), I asked the passenger on the other side of me if she would consider swapping seats with Joey. In retrospect, it is possible this was the moment when I misplaced my passport. I had not settled into my seat and might have tucked my passport into the seat pocket in front of me. I got up to show the lady where Joey sat for the seat swap.
Joey joined us in his new tiny cramped, no room-for-legs of a six-foot-something man spot. Joey and I also switched seats so he could sit in the middle beside Megan.
Settled in the aisle seat, I relaxed and enjoyed the flight. Upon disembarking, I double-checked the pocket in front of my seat for any possible forgotten items.
Nothing.
We sprinted through the airport to the Frankfurt customs counter to catch our connecting flight to Prague. I fumbled with my waist belt to present my passport. My heart froze. I rifled through my bags, searching for my passport.
Nothing. This cannot be happening.
Joey conducted a second and third search of my bags.
Nothing.
A little dejected and absolutely rejected by customs, I sought assistance from an empathetic airport customer service agent who summoned the cleaning staff to search the plane for my missing passport in my aisle seat.
Nothing.
I insisted that Megan and Joey catch the connecting flight to Prague without me. No point in us all getting penalized. I assured them that I would figure things out and catch up with them soon.
The airport customer service suggested I contact the Frankfurt police at the airport. The police then told me they would issue an emergency paper so that I could continue my journey. I was thrilled! This would all be resolved quietly for €43 that the police required to process an emergency travel paper.
At the time, I thought the Universe was teaching me a well-deserved lesson for my thoughtless comment to Dave. But this slap on the wrist would soon morph into a full-on beating.
I did not have €43 in cash. Dave had advice about that too, which of course, I ignored. My VISA card, which is advertised to be accepted all over the world, would be sufficient.
It was of no use to the Frankfurt police.
A two-police team escorted me to the money exchange office to buy cash. That office would only give me money after I produced a passport for identification. No other document was acceptable. The police explained my situation (my assumption as their conversation was in German) …. but there were no exceptions.
Stay positive, Debby.
The police found an ATM machine. I silently begged anyone or anything that was listening to please let me remember my PIN. And voilà! The machine gave me a €100 bill without a PIN. Things were looking up. I only needed €43 and considered giving the police the entire €100 for their kindness. I decided against this fearing my gratitude might be misinterpreted as a bribe to foreign police officers in a foreign country and might land me in a foreign prison.
We returned to the money exchange guy to break my €100 bill for change.
VISA transaction for $148.36 (Canadian cost to withdraw €100)
It is only a withdrawal transaction; I will not have to ‘fess up’ to Dave about what happened. My plan was to order a new passport when I got home, and the entire incident could stay in Frankfurt. While I do not deliberately keep anything from my husband, this omission might be necessary.
If only I had not made that comment….
The Frankfurt police gave me an emergency passport paper an hour later. They told me it would get me where I needed to go and hurried off to exchange my plane ticket.
Despite my best efforts, I missed my connecting flight and faced the arduous task of buying a new ticket. It was not a simple exchange of tickets as I had thought. I was considered a ‘no-show’ for the flight I missed. I had to buy a new ticket for a new flight. The kind customer service agent was sympathetic and waived the administration fee.
VISA transaction Lufthansa Airline $308.84.
Of course, this new revelation meant hiding the truth from Dave would be more challenging.
I was in a hurry to catch the next flight, so panic set in when I was forced to go back AGAIN through security (consisting of a line-up of about 300 people) to board the flight. This time I was escorted off to the side for a full pat down; she left nothing untouched. That was a first.
When I arrived in Prague, Megan and Joey were relieved to see me, and I was delighted to be together with them again. Unbeknownst to me, Joey, who is more experienced in current-day foreign travel, later told me he was certain that I would be ousted back to Canada.
I was happy that I was with the kids again and ready to explore Prague! As we drove to our hotel, I was awestruck by the cityscape and indescribably excited to be there!
Prague is situated on the banks of the Vltava River and is divided into several districts, each with it’s own unique character. The historic centre of Prague, also known as the Old Town, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and is home to some of Europe’s most iconic landmarks and attractions, including the Prague Castle, the Charles Bridge, and the Old Town Square.
Prague is also famous for its Gothic and Baroque architecture, with many beautiful churches and buildings dating back to medieval times. Some of the most famous buildings in Prague include St. Vitus Cathedral, the Church of Our Lady before Tyn, and the Municipal House.
In addition to its fantastic architecture, Prague’s lively cultural scene has various museums, galleries, and theatres like the National Museum, the Museum of Decorative Arts, and the National Gallery.
This historic and culturally rich capital of the Czech Republic is well-known for its spirited nightlife, stunning architecture, and social attractions. The city hosts a range of bars, clubs, and music venues catering to a diverse crowd of locals and tourists.
There is something in this city for everyone, from history buffs to culture lovers, …and yes, a Canadian Embassy!
Regardless of the city’s magnificence and the marvellous time we had exploring, I had a persistent uneasiness. That feeling was exacerbated by Joey, who suggested I contact the Embassy to ask if my Frankfurt-issued emergency paper would be enough to return to Canada.
Nope.
The Canadian government would not let me back in my country with the document from the Frankfurt police. I can only travel on a document that is issued by the Canadians. I was required to get a passport replacement as instructed by Martina from the Embassy.
If I wanted to go home. Hmmm….
VISA transaction for a cab ride to the Canadian Embassy, $31.50.
VISA transaction for photos for the new passport, $19.37.
VISA transaction for delicious tea and desserts while waiting for my appointment, $19.44.
A second uncomfortable feeling was growing. My confession. I started to consider how this narrative might be recounted. If only I had not made that comment.
I was happy that Megan accompanied me to the Embassy. She is better at using Google Maps than I am. That meant she had to turn on her data for the day.
Fido, $16.00 for the roaming charge.
Upon entry to the Embassy, Megan and I were instructed to leave all our electronics and guns at security in a box. No, we do not carry guns.
Once we were screened and allowed entry, Martina, the service person, asked me to complete multiple forms. Meanwhile, Megan was approximately an hour and a half without her cell phone or something to read, except for the one exhilarating poster board in the office about COVID.
I did not know the telephone number of my dear friend, who I had listed on my passport as a reference. As my phone supplements my memory, I was directed back to security to complete my documents using the information from my contacts folder.
My earlier uncomfortable feeling transitioned to dread. A confession to Dave is inevitable.
VISA transaction to the Government of Canada, $415.00 for a new passport.
Confession confirmed. It will be impossible to keep all this from Dave.
Oh, Debby! That comment!
Yet more complications from the Embassy. Martina instructed me to report the lost passport to the Czech police and bring the police report to be attached to my file. I was not sure the Czech police would do that since the incident was already reported in Frankfurt. But I needed a passport to get home, so I played the game.
As I left, she said, “Hopefully, your passport will be ready on Friday.”
Hopefully? I fly home Sunday. The Embassy is closed on weekends!
I would miss my flight on Sunday and be forced to stay in Prague.
Again….hmmm. Being stranded in this beautiful city would not be terrible!
Megan and I walked 45 minutes back to the hotel. It was great exercise and a lovely way to see more of the city.
I had to get to the police station before dark. Megan returned to the hotel, so I was alone and thought it wise not to wander around in a foreign country at night. My phone would not charge with the European converter plug I had purchased at an airport convenience store. My phone’s battery life icon was in the red zone.
I roamed, ran, retraced and circled the city streets looking for the Czech police. There were prayers too. I had to find them before my phone ran out of power. It was only a short time before I got seriously lost. I had yet to figure out how to get back to the hotel without my phone.
I had tried to memorize my route. The cobblestone spaghetti streets all looked the same. The colours and styles of the exquisite architecture and buildings coordinated perfectly with all the other streets I had just walked down.
And then, just like that, I found the police station. As I suspected, they would not make a police report because the passport disappearance was realized and reported in Frankfort. I sent an email to Martina to report this.
She sent me a message back with another problem. She was waiting for responses from my references. The timing was critical. I asked Dolores and Megan (my references) if they could speak to Martina the next day.
That meant Megan had to turn on her data again. $16.00.
I, too, had to leave my phone data on until resolved. $48.00
Relieved when by complete accident, I found my way back to the hotel, my anxiety led me straight to the dining room for a glass of wine. The European delicacy with complimentary hors d’oeuvres served to me surely was a sign that the Universe had forgiven me for my flippant comment.
I remembered advice from a meditation podcast. “Stay in the moment.” So, with that, I indulged in a second glass of wine in that beautiful Prague restaurant to think about how I would ‘budget in’ these unexpected expenses over the last few days. I made a mental and brilliant note to myself. “Make sure you include the word ‘budget’ in your apology note. That is a word that will make Dave melt!”
I laughed as I recalled Joey’s invitation to go to Prague. He said, “Come to Prague. It will only cost you airfare!”
The following day Martina responded to my email, saying she would continue processing my application without the police report. On the following Friday, I picked up my new temporary passport!
I am on the road to redemption. It is over!
Consequently, I spent much of the remaining time in Prague, double-checking, triple checking, and ensuring I had all my documents, cards and electronics. In my spare time, I worked on an elaborate, detailed apology (to include multiple uses of the word ‘budget’) to send to Dave… ideally before he saw the VISA card statement!
Delivered via email, Dave read my unfortunate story, permeated with regret for my comment. The best part of this entire ordeal came with his response. When my dear Dave, who had every right to say, ‘I told you so’ and lecture me on lessons learned…he did not. Nor did he mention the $1022.51, the cost of the disappearing passport.
Classy guy!
But, of course, I can expect upcoming verbal pokes, grounded from carrying my own passport on future trips with Dave and calendar notifications to remind me to check the credit bureau for identity theft.
We safely returned to Canada and…
The Universe was not finished with me! The Embassy in Prague directed me to return my temporary passport to Passport Canada when I returned to Canada. Once I had completed that, Passport Canada would send me my permanent passport replacement.
No problem, I can do that.
The Canadian federal government went on strike. Who knows how long that will last and what kind of backlog that will create.
It appears as if I will be in Canadian captivity for a while.
A good place to be.