Hi everyone, Steven here.
Losing a passport under normal circumstances can be traumatic but losing one while walking in the wilderness of Italy (kind of) with no fixed address is even more so. Let me tell you my sad tale.
As you know, I had been suffering with Plantar Fasciitis while walking the via Francigena and when we reached a town called San Gimignano after a particularly grueling day, I just had to take some time to allow the inflammation to heal a bit. We agreed that Linda would walk the next stage alone and I would take the bus and meet her at our next destination.
The following morning after Linda took off, I walked around town for a while, getting some photos and then headed to the bus stop. We had timed my trip to arrive around the same time Linda would complete her walk. After an easy and scenic trip, I made it to Colle di Val d’Elsa and messaged Linda, who was only about half an hour away at this point.
We were both hungry when she arrived and decided on a nearby restaurant for lunch. The waitress asked us for our vaccination info and I unzipped my pack to get my passport, which is where I keep my CDC card. It was not in the usual place, so I rummaged about and then rummaged some more. I glanced at Linda with what I imagine was a look of horror. “Do you have my passport?”, I asked her. When she replied “No.”, we both knew it was gone. (To this day, I think I lost it on the bus when I was pulling my phone out a bunch of times checking Google Maps).
I tried my hardest to hold it together but I was really stressed. I got the number for the local police at San Gimignano and called to ask if a passport had been found. The person at the other end of the line didn’t speak a word of English. I asked if there was anyone there that did. No. We finally had a friend of ours who lives in Italy call on our behalf. Nothing had been turned in but it was recommended that I file a police report.
I walked to the local police station and rang the bell outside. I had a few Italian phrases describing the problem already prepared on my phone. No one spoke English, of course, but between the three officers there, they were able to tell me that they didn’t handle this kind of report and I had to go to the other police station. Turns out that was about 1km away. When I got there, they told me that, no, they didn’t handle these kinds of reports and I needed to go back to the place from where I had just come! After a few phone calls, they told me the other police station had been given a heads up and would take care of it. So much for a healing, non-walking day!
When I returned, the police officer had changed his tune. Now he was all friendly and knew exactly what to do. Hmmm. So now I had my police report in hand. Next, I needed to contact the Irish Embassy, firstly to report the loss and secondly to see what I could do to get a replacement passport. By now, we were two weeks away from our arrival in Rome so I figured it would be best to have it sent to the embassy and then pick it up from there when we arrived.
I sent an email to the embassy explaining my situation and, a few days later, I still hadn’t heard back from them. I decided to call, having zero expectation that I would actually reach a human being. Lo and behold, someone actually answered my call.
As I began to explain my situation, the lady with an Irish accent said “Is this Steven? You’ve been weighing heavily on my mind!” Wait, what??? I couldn’t believe my luck! After a quick chat about Ireland and the via Francigena, we got down to brass tacks. “It’s easy”, she said, “all you have to do is go online and order a replacement passport and have it sent to the embassy in Rome. In the notes, make sure you say you want it sent by diplomatic bag.” Great!
I went online, applied for the replacement but there was nowhere on the form to add the diplomatic bag request and there was actually nowhere to even put “Embassy of Ireland”. All I could include was my name and an address. Before I hit the submit button, I called the embassy lady back and she told me not to worry about adding the name of the embassy or the diplomatic bag part.
She said she would be able to track it as soon as I got the tracking number, and that put me at ease. I completed the form, paid my fee, sent the embassy lady my tracking number and got on with my day, feeling chuffed that the whole thing was easier than expected.
Two weeks came and went and the tracking for the package indicated it had been sent out within one day of my application. Unfortunately, it looked like it had not moved beyond that. It was in a constant state of “processing in Dublin”. The embassy lady was unable to access the tracking info every time I called because of some kind of computer glitch. Natch.
By now, I was in almost daily contact with the ladies at the embassy (there were three of them). Each time I spoke with a different person, I got a different story. While the original lady said that not including “Embassy of Ireland” on the package would not be a problem, another lady told me it was potentially a big problem and the postman might or might not deliver. If the latter, it would be returned to Dublin. Embassy lady #3 asked me if I was aware that the embassy had two addresses. Of course I didn’t know that. She said if it was addressed to the wrong one it would not be delivered and would be returned to Dublin. In her words, she said I would need a fair amount of luck for it to be delivered at all!
In the meantime, I was also in contact with a couple of reps at the Italian Post Office. I had gotten through to two different people by now, both spoke flawless English. The first person confirmed that the package was now in Rome (Yay!) and would be delivered that day or the next day, latest (spoiler alert: it was neither of those days). The other person confirmed a few days later that it was definitely going out either that day or the next day, latest.
All the uncertainty about the passport delivery required us to extend our accommodations in Rome. We didn’t know for how long, so we tried to do it just a couple of days at a time. We ended up having to move hotels at one point because the one we were in originally was full. We found a hotel in a great area of town, convenient to absolutely everywhere except the Irish Embassy. It was a brisk 45 minute walk to get there.
We couldn’t book our flights, or even museum or sightseeing tours, because we never knew when we would get the call that my passport had arrived. To be honest, we were both too stressed out to do much of anything other than hang out in our neighborhood. Thankfully we had a fabulous gelateria and a Greek takeout place nearby. We had been craving Greek salad!
One of the reasons my poor passport was languishing in the Italian postal system was the number of holidays in Italy, during which workers take vacation and businesses close. Holy Week, Good Friday, Easter, Easter Monday, Liberation Day, and Labour Day. By the time Labour Day rolled around on a Sunday, even the Italians were tired of holidays, so they did not take Monday off and mail delivery would be on a normal schedule.
I had nightmares about the postman not delivering the package so I decided my best plan of action would be to plan a stakeout. I devised a scheme (as they say in Europe) to hide in the shadows outside the embassy and then pounce on the postman when he arrived. I spent two days waiting three hours in the morning and then another three hours in the afternoon. I saw postal vans come and go but no one delivered to the embassy.
On the third day of the stakeout, I was desperately clinging on to hope but it was dwindling. Linda came with me on that day. When we arrived, we saw a note attached to the entrance of the Embassy saying they were closed!!! The trio of embassy ladies had failed to mention this to me. If my passport was delivered and no one was there to sign for it, the postman would leave a notice and someone from the embassy would have to go and collect it! And that is if the postman even tried to deliver it, since “Embassy of Ireland” was nowhere on the address! And if he did try to deliver it, would he even let me sign for it and basically snatch it from the jaws of the Irish Embassy??
After about an hour of sitting on an uncomfortable curb, Linda decided to take a break and walk down to a nearby city overlook. As luck would have it, she noticed an Italian postal guy on a motorcycle who had stopped there for a cigarette break.
Linda: “Do you speak English?”
Postal guy: “Yes!”
L: “Do you deliver to the Irish Embassy?”
PG: “Yes, I do!”
With that, he opened his bag and pulled out some mail indicating that this was for the embassy today. Linda explained that my passport should be amongst his letters so she rushed back to me with the good news. When he pulled up to the embassy letterbox, I literally ran at him and pulled out my American driver’s license saying I was Steven Dempsey and asked him if I could please sign for my registered package?! I think we both might have looked a little desperate at this point.
He fiddled about, looking through each letter carefully until he came across MY PASSPORT!! He looked at my ID and then looked at me with a big smile. He had me sign his little screen and handed over the goods. OMG!!! I can’t remember the last time I was so happy! I think we both had our mouths wide open as we walked back to our hotel. The passport drama was finally over.
We weren’t able to find a flight to Sofia until Wednesday. We had been stalking the Ryan Air site for tickets to Sofia, but when we finally got our hands on my passport, there were no tickets available for the next day. So we had one more day in Rome, then we flew out on Air Bulgaria.
When we finally arrived back at our storage/campground and saw Bijou, it was almost as overwhelming as seeing St. Peter’s Basilica! We were so happy to be home! Now we were going to ease back into the real world.
Everything looked good in Bijou. We were concerned that there might be damage as a result of the extreme cold when we left her, but at first glance she seemed to have made it unscathed. I refilled the fresh water tank and ran water through the faucets. On second glance, we learned Bijou was, in fact, scathed.
More on that next time.
Next up: Rest, recovery and back on the road.
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OMG. What a stressful, stressful time!!!
Yes but it had a happy ending so all is well now 🙂
OMG! I know it was incredibly stressful for you, but it makes a fabulous story thanks to Linda’s meet up with the postman. Did you ever speak again to any of the embassy ladies? Or did you let it just hang as a mystery that the passport never arrived and they never heard from you again? Do you know wear it permanently in a high security bag slung around your neck? Would you welcome a subdural microchip if it would save you from ever going through that again?
Ha ha, Laurie, the subdural microchip is a very attractive option after this experience 🙂 I did email the embassy ladies to say it had received it. They responded a couple of days later with well wishes. I’m sure they were glad to see the back of me!
Now, THAT is a story to be handed down through the ages!
It’s true! When we think about things that could go wrong in our life, I always say “Well, at least it will make a good blog post!”
Sounds familiar. Nancy left hers in an early morning taxi ito the airport in Paris. Never taxi without coffee! The airline Rep tried to help us. She called the taxi company and in machine gun french she impersonated a police officer and demanded the taxi be contacted and searched. And she succeeded! But the passport was not found. We did not fly. France was inaugurating a new president that day. So the taxi got us halfway to the US embassy. Traffic jam bad. Nancy figured out we could probably take the subway downtown. She told the driver to bag downtown and make for the subway. It worked. Embassy closed for lunch. Of course! But we got it done same day. On our way back to the US we flew out of italy. The customs guy recognized the passport as a replacement. Asked for the story. He was surprised we lost it in France, not Italy. He told us the US issued about 60,000 replacement passports a year in Italy. These days we have two passports. The traditional one and the vaccine one!
Wow Chris, that is a staggering statistic! I can’t imagine the frustration of losing a passport on the way to the airport! Well, after this experience, I think I can 🙂 I’m glad everything worked out finally for Nancy. Thanks for your comment.
What a drama, but all is well that ends well, I guess. Would love to have been a mouse in the corner watching you stake out the postman!
Sorry to hear Bijou suffered while you were gone. Next chapter soon, please!
Staking out the embassy was not glamorous, lol. I had to play all kinds of mental games to stop myself from giving up. It was worth it, though, when I eventually did see the postman 🙂 Next chapter is coming soon.
That totally stressed me out! Oh my goodness, so glad you finally got it!!!
Jennifer, it stressed me out again writing it! I want to lock my passport behind a bullet proof glass case 🙂
OMG what luck in finding your replacement passport! On our way to music festival in Mexico, I realized I forgot my passport half way to Mexico. I called my daughter and son to bring my passport to me please. My son showed up an hour later w/my passport. My daughter bought me a passport holder that hangs on my neck like a necklace so I don’t loose it lol I’m happy you’re happy on your return ‘home’.
Yikes, I can imagine the stress you went through. I have handed my passport over to Linda at this point. I just don’t trust myself with it 🙂 Thanks for your comment.
I’m so glad to read this happy ending!
Thinks Connie, we are so happy!
You are horrid to keep us waiting on what happened to Bijou! ! ! Love the photo of the two of you in the plane.
That photo is one of my favorites. We’ll try not to keep you in limbo for the next installment!
Had a similar experience in Italy trying to retrieve my bags that had been “lost” by the airline. Everyone had a different story, sent me a different place, told me a different day…On day 4 – right before we were scheduled to depart for a cruise, they arrived at our hotel at 11:00 pm. Phew. Annoying, but not as problematic as a passport!
Passport or luggage, whatever it is, it still feels horrible to lose but these things do have a way of resolving themselves eventually. Glad it worked out for you. Thanks for your comment.
Not a story anyone wants to live through. At least you now have your passport in hand. Hooray. Hmmmm, what about Bijou …?
Yes, I’m glad it’s behind us now. We’ll try not to leave you hanging too long before the next post 🙂
All I can say is “Wow!” Your perseverance paid off! I could not imagine the stress you must have been under waiting. I probably would have given up and just lived the rest of my life there.
Ha ha, I can relate to that except we couldn’t afford to live in Rome and Bijou would miss us so much 🙂
Wow, what a crazy rollercoaster ride!!! I felt so anxious waiting with you on the curb (LOL) and then so relieved when the postman pulled up on his bicycle with your passport. How crazy that the embassy was closed that day, on top of all of the other craziness! Anyway, I’m glad all is well now and that you’re back in Bijou. Although I do not like your last sentence that Bijou is “scathed.” Uh-oh.
By the way, Eric is notorious for losing things. I wish subdermal passport chips were an option, because I can totally see us in a passport debacle.
Basically anything that is important to have should not be in my hands or on my person 🙂 Thanks for the comment.
Stressful enough to go through this at all, let alone within another country and the language barrier. So glad it all worked out thanks to your determination and persistence!
It was the lesser of two evils. Had I no persisted, we might still be in Rome, lol. Thanks for commenting.
Gotta love the stakeout! That is some perseverance, Steven! Glad you were able to get your hands on it. 🙂
Stakeouts are overrated 🙂 All’s well that ends well.
I hope you let the embassy ladies know of your success!! Wonder if the mailman is still telling the “crazy Irish guy” story to his friends :-))) So very glad you have a new passport and can continue without the stress. Bummer you lose your location stamps though 🙁
🙂 I did inform the trio at the embassy that I had snagged my passport from the postman. They wished me well a few days later. The only location stamp I recall was in there was Morocco. I don’t get stamped in general being an EU national.
I think I am all caught up! So glad to get the grueling details of your passport debacle. Very intense and suspenseful telling, Steven. So, so love your FB & blog posts!!!!!
Thanks Cindy. The telling of the tale was kind of cathartic 🙂
Man…I was getting stressed out just reading about your ordeal! Glad it all worked out in the end for you. Safe travels!
Thanks so much. I’m considering hiring a bodyguard for my passport, lol 🙂
What a story! I was getting stressed just reading it and I have never been to a foreign country that doesn’t speak English. Linda seeing the mail delivery guy was pure fate. Steve I would suggest that you duct tape it to your body. In fact both of you should! Lol
Looking forward to the next installment.
Ha ha, thanks Jane. I’ve ordered a couple of extra rolls of duct tape 🙂