Now it can be told

I lost my passport somewhere between the airport and my daughter's house upon arrival last week. I had been traveling for 32 hours, and although that's no excuse, it's probably the reason. I called the taxi company, whose name I had the presence of mind to note as I entered the cab, and I called the airport lost and found. Nada. I was so anxious and embarrassed that I didn't tell a soul. Monday morning I braved the unfamiliar bus lines in an unfamiliar city, and thanks to an old-fashioned paper map, I found my way to the Vancouver American Consulate and reported the loss. I was dismayed to learn that not only is it forbidden to enter the Consulate with a cellphone, as it is at the Embassy in Tel Aviv, but unlike Tel Aviv, there is no checking facility. After asking around the neighborhood, I learned that a crummy-looking coffee shop across the street does a booming business checking cellphones and laptops for $5.00, no guarantees, no receipts, no nothin.' So I decided to risk it, and let them store my iPhone.

The security to enter the Consulate made airport security look puny by comparison. Luckily I had not lost my Israeli passport, which was acceptable as photo ID. The over-systematized service windows did not systematize emergencies, of which I was one, so I had to wing it. My passport was invalidated, so all you imposters out there won't be able to use it, and I was given an appointment to return for an emergency passport Wednesday (yesterday), so I did. This time I left my iPhone home and saved myself $5.00, and brought two pictures of the appropriate size and composition. Luckily I had a photocopy of the lost passport (highly recommended for all travelers!), so I was able to complete the application form thoroughly and as a result, a mere two hours later I left with a replacement passport, good for one year!

When I told my daughter, she thanked me for keeping it a secret; the trials of home ownership are stressing her out sufficiently these days.