The little niggling things that pop up during travel.


8.30 am and we’ve had high drama this morning.
We had a 6.00 am flight, so I set the alarm at 3.15 to leave for the airport at 4.00.
All dressed, bags packed and I couldn’t find my passport folder.
It’s always in my handbag but there was no sight of it.
Unpack the four backs and two hand luggage cases.
No sight.
Look under the settee, under the bed. (I did find another remote!)
Call Qantas in Australia and tell them we need to change flights and we have re-booked.

We had a small sporty car and Enterprise offered to change it for a larger one last night. so we could fit our luggage in for the flight, which we did. But I left my passport folder in the locked glove box because we were sight seeing on the day we shifted hotels two days ago and I didn’t want to carry it with me.

Sure I should have checked it last night. But the car yard would still have been closed.

Had we still had the car, we could have just retrieved it and gone on our way. However, we had to wait for them to open and sheepishly capture that darn grey folder.




That’s it. I’m buying a bright red one today. I actually looked in the glove box when we left the car but it’s grey, the same as the bottom of the glove box and it was a little dark.

OK, lots of sweat. It turns out that our flights are now at a better time, we have another day and a half here, a stay over in Dallas and we arrive in Tokyo and Bangkok a day later than we expected.

Thats the way it rolls folk…. Now to go back to sleep for a few hours then a bit more sight seeing.

In fact we are going on a sunset cruise this evening so we’re chuffed.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Diane Ansel says:

    Several years ago, my husband and I were joining Pokey Bolton’s Quilting Arts Cruise to Alaska. Jim, my husband, needed a new passport and got one in plenty of time for the flight from SFO to YVR. He put his passport on the kitchen counter, I picked it up and put it in our travel stuff. Got to the airport and, DANG! He had put his OLD passport on the kitchen counter, not his new one! He had to go all the way back to Mill Valley, where we lived, to fetch the correct passport and take the next flight. He was steamed, but why would he give me his OLD passport???? HE”S the one who is left brained, not me!

Leave a Reply