So we were back in Athens. After a late night ferry ride, in which we splurged for a cabin and slept very well indeed, we arrived in Athens port at about 7:30am. We had to be across the city at the embassy for 9:15. Justin was mournfully unencumbered by much stuff. I had taken the daypack off my bag, and all his current possessions could fit inside. It is a constant barrage of loss. Let’s just change socks… oh wait, he has no socks at all, just sandals. Check your email? No phone, no tablet, gonna have to wait until we find a computer. I am amazed at his resilience. At least we are travelling together, so I can give my phone, my ipad, which as a pc person, he turns his nose up at, so things aren’t that bad, I suppose.
Complete luggage loss is one of the more vexing things that can happen to a traveller. It does look like we should be able to get a temporary passport in time for our next flight, however. Fun fact! The embassy can apply for an emergency document, which will get a Canadian home to get a new passport. If you are flying directly home. It is much more expensive to get a temp passport, and you pay for the new permanent one to meet you at home when you get there as well. So passport loss is expensive and highly inconvenient. Luggage loss is expensive and heart-rending. Picture loss cannot be healed. Those pictures of the bulk of our journey are gone, save for a few silly ones I plucked out for facebook. That, more than anything, makes me wish to rend the thief limb from limb.
We got on the metro, changing lines at the appropriate station. The time dragged on, as we rode the train across the city. I stood with my hand on my belt-pouch, more aware than ever how easy it is to become a victim. Every person around me was a potential enemy. That is the other facet of luggage loss. Trust in basic goodness, no matter how much you should know better, is shattered. I know most of the people are good people. So many people were dismayed to hear of our plight, and so many people in Santorini tried to help. But there is a wounded animal part of me that wishes to flash out with claws and snarls at anyone who approaches unexpectedly.
We get off at the station that is supposed to be near a surface tram. Emerging from the underground, there is a busy intersection, but no tram, and no wires above the street to power one. The general map we were peering at has mislead us. The tram may be close, but it is not here. And we are running out of time. Here it is. Time to reach out again. Time to make the fundamental connections a traveller must make, reaching out, going on the information provided by strangers. I saw a clean cut man in a peaked hat with some sort of official looking decoration on his lapel. No doubt this is a signal most recognize around here, imparting occifialdom, but it is not one I recognize. I more see his posture, his body language asking to help, prepared to answer. That, and the lapel decoration sway me over, and I asked him how best to get to our destination, the embassy. “The American embassy?!?” he asks, eyes wide. I think we are pretty far from the American embassy, and the Canadian embassy just moved way out here. I can understand his concern. “No, the Canadian one. Here is the address. I can also show you on this map where it is.” I point, Justin points, we show our carefully copied out words. He shakes his head, he does not think the embassy is there, but we are so sure it has just moved. “Best to take a taxi. There is no bus that goes from here.” he finally decides. He points us to the best corner for catching a taxi, and we take off.
The embassy looms into view after a tense cab ride. We managed to make our destination understood, thanks to writing it down. The taxi driver spoke no english.
When I saw the Canadian flag, all the stress, all the fear, all the uncertainly… I cannot quite describe what it is like to see the flag of your home country when you are far away and scared. Tears pressed my lids.
Lock your devices in a locker outside the embassy. Go thru a scanner. Can we keep your backpack here? Oh yes, you might as well. If it isn’t safe with security in the embassy, it isn’t safe anywhere. See the consultant, go get some pictures taken…. wait and wait. Hopefully we can get the temporary passport tomorrow. If not, we will have to change flights. Which will mess up the next flight.
Keep your passport close while travelling, folks.
Wherever you are, Be There 