"Solace in the Wind" by English sculptor Max Patte on the Wellington waterfront. Always a hit. The last time I walked by this 2-metre high iron man he was dressed in a toque and knitted underwear.
The trip was a success: I had spent the month of November on the North Island of New Zealand attending the SATW convention in Wellington, did a post-trip to hike and mountain bike in Tongariro National Park, and then spent the remaining weeks travelling from Paihia and Auckland in the north, down to Rotorua and then Whakatu, near Napier, doing research for a book.
I drove myself to the airport (having sort of gotten used to keeping in the left lane) and approached the Air New Zealand check-in desk in a bit of confusion.
“Uh, hold on a minute, I just have to dig out my passport,” I mumbled, searching frantically for the little blue booklet.
“Oh, sure,” said the woman patiently.
But search as I did, I just couldn’t find the thing.
“Hmmm, I think I’ll go over there and look in my luggage,” I said, trying not to panic.
A thorough hunt through each of my bags, though, came up with nothing. Uh oh. I never remove my passport from its place in my laptop bag, but it wasn’t there, or anywhere else: could it have been stolen?
I reluctantly walked back to the check-in counter to find out what my options were. I was told that I might as well board the flight to Auckland, as I didn’t need ID to fly domestic; it was more likely I could get help there. I had a seven-hour layover, so hopefully I could come up with a solution before my flight to Vancouver.
After arriving in Auckland and filling out a police report, I hankered down near the Air New Zealand special assistance desk, where they took up the cause of getting me on the 8:00 pm flight to Vancouver. Although I was told it wasn’t likely, one of the women did mention that she had been successful with Australian citizens in this type of situation in the past. I was hopeful.
I found an outdoor ice rink in downtown Wellington! There was no hockey going on, though (the field hockey teams are called the "Black Sticks"), and most were having trouble just staying upright.
Almost five hours later and many calls for me over the PA system (they couldn’t get a hold of the right person at the Canadian embassy, then they got a hold of her but had more questions), I heard the hostile words no one ever wants to hear when they’re travelling: Canada won’t accept you back into the country. Ouch.
Worse than that – for my wallet – was that the Canadian Embassy is in Wellington, so I had to get back down there to start the process of getting a temporary passport. The cost just to change my flights and get to Wellington? NZ$1,130 (about $890.00 CDN).
After three days in the capital filled with getting passport photos, paying fees and hoping the consular could get a hold of all four of my references, I got a temporary white passport the morning I had re-scheduled my flight for and set out to the airport once more for my flight home.
The positive side to this story? New Zealand was probably the best place I could have had travel problems in, as the people were helpful, I didn’t have to communicate in a language I didn’t know, and it’s a safe country. I mean, who can complain about being stuck in Wellington?
The negative? I found my passport in my luggage after I returned home…
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New Zealand is such a great country to visit! Had the pleasure of back packing around it for a few months a while ago
I agree – it might of been the best place for such an inconvenient thing to happen! Just stumbled across your blog – really enjoying it, and looking forward to more posts!
Cheers, Savannah! Yes, it was the most pleasant, unpleasant experience…
Stay tuned for more on New Zealand.
That’s awful! I lost mine once too, and it was horrible, but at least it was at home. And I learned something from it: here’s my piece on what to do if you lose your passport http://ow.ly/7ZGNg
Great info, Carolyn! I went into the embassy on a Monday morning and was on a plane Wednesday night back home. It cost a few hundred dollars, but it was a pretty speedy process, all considering (it didn’t feel speedy, though, as the bills were racking up).
Did you ever figure out what happened to your passport? Stolen, fell through the crack in your bag?? xox Sunny
Holy cow! I would have been screaming. Glad we let you back in, Lori.
YIKES!!! That is one of my worst fears. I worry so much when I pack, I triple check EVERYTHING and still sometimes panic. I would HATE to go through that and have to spend all that money for a passport you had all along. Again, the positive side is they were helpful and it was NZ. Could have been a lot worse. Glad you made it home!
Yes, I will definitely pay better attention to where my passport is! It was stuck to a plastic press kit folder, so I’d have to say that it happened within the first few days of my month-long trip, when I was at the conference. So, for almost 25 days, I didn’t once check on the document. Lesson learned.