2007-Oct-16 - The Luck of the Irish and The Tale of Two Passports

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us" ... and so it goes in Charles Dickens Tale of Two Cities and sums up the last 24hrs for myself. Ive had some depressing news from home but have also had some Irish luck on this side of the world too.

To begin ... after the English/France game the other night, and a wee bit of a jaded day to follow, it was abit of a toss up about whether we really felt like going out again for the Argie/Springbok clash basically the same day. But out we went anyway - just for a few. We get to the pub, the scene of the crime the night before, and decided to head for the same spot in the bar rather another area of which there were plenty to chose from. This pub has quite a number of small drinking areas tucked away on two floors and each has a widescreen TV playing different sports channels, and tonight the place is just about empty in contrast to the crowds the night before.

So we get up to the bar and the first thing the barman says as Im taking off my jacket, is "are you from New Zealand?". Naturally I thought this guy is pretty quick cause it is written on my jacket - but politely I answered "Yes". The next question had me stumped as he then asked "You wouldnt be Tom Connolly would you?". Now Id only been in this bar once before, admittedly quite under the weather when I left in the wee hours of the morning,  and this was Latvia where I'd only just arrived after all and he wasn't the barman from the previous night!!!

"Hold on a tick Ive something here for you" - My first thought was that Id left with out paying my tab, or that Id done something foolish in the bar before leaving and Id left my name and address or that some how some one I had met had tracked me here to Riga. "Is this yours by any chance?" - and no prizes for what he held up - apart from a wave of disbelief - it was my bloody passport!!! Apparently it must have fallen out of my jacket at some stage of the night and had been found in the bar that morning. To think that we nearly didn't come out at all and had debated even going to this particular bar this evening. Can you just imagine the cafful at the airport on Wednesday when arriving for my flight, passport less and not even realising that it was missing till I got there. Doesn't even bear thinking about. Talk about the luck of the Irish :)

Not everyone has been so lucky though. We have come across a number of sorry tales from travelers that have come to misfortune with a similar theme - an Aussie in Vietnam walking home from the La Lousianna who was hassled by this old hooker, and when she finally buggered off he found she had also slipped all the notes out of his wallet - the American in Talinn who woke up freezing one morning after drinking vodka all night to find himself only in his underwear, asleep on a mattress in a building site berefit of passport and money - another American who had slightly to much to drink on the flight over, left his visa card in the ATM and had been waiting 10 days for his bank to sort it out and send him some money - the German who enjoyed the bars in Riga so much he forgot what day he was supposed to go to Russia and had to wait another two weeks to reapply for his visa - get the picture lol. I had at least been spared their fate!

But wait ... the story is not complete! As i said at the begining, this is a "Tale of Two Passports" or to be more correct, really a " Passport with Two Tales". Today we went on a walking tour of the city and I VERY carefully put my passport in a zipped up pocket in my pants, not the jacket this time. After a great day out touring around, we get back to the hostel and I think its probably better to put the passport in the locker as we dont need to carry it around all day like in China and Russia. OH NO!!!!!!!!!!

The bloody thing is missing AGAIN and this time I know it is!!!!!!!! It must have fallen out when I was leaning over doing some arty photo shots at the church or at the cafe where we had lunch. DAMN. Then starts the hunt. Back to the places we had been, the ones that were still open but no luck. Finally I decide the best thing is to head for the main police station so I can report it missing and then tomorrow it will be off to the UK embassy to see what I can do about my early morning flight on Wednesday to Dusseldorf.

The police station is not exactly easy to find and eventually we head into  hotel foyer to ask directions - "its right there across the road but it is not the station to report things like this too, you need to go about 4 km in another direction". GREAT - Im not exactly in the frame of mind at the moment to spend endless hours walking around. So we head for the one next door anyways.

The reception is not exactly chummy here - its not that long since the KGB ran the place remember. Both the atmosphere, the surroundings and the welcome from PC Latvia were dismally cold. He asked what I wanted and then pointed to an old fold down chair and said "wait!" while he made a phone call. After a wait of about 20 min, and a parade of handcuffed individuals through the corridor, another PC, standing about 7 foot tall, they are all big intimadating buggers over here, came to interview me. First question " What  do you want"  "To report a lost passport" "Where did you lose it" "Here in Riga" "You mean in the police station" "Ahh no, somewhere in the city" "The old city or new" "The old". "Right wait there".

Another 20 minutes go by and a third officer comes in from outside the station and says "Come with me" and takes us both out to a waiting paddy van. "Get in" - they are all very short on conversation or explanation here as you may have guessed. Ross was quite thrilled about the whole deal as it was his first ride in a Black Maria :) They drove us through town to where I guess we were supposed to have gone to report "things of this nature" first and  then left us in another room for another officer to interview me. This guy spoke excellent english, asked me what had happened and then said "and what do you want me to do about it?". I was getting a wee bit peeved at this stage but said I would appreciate a report that I could take to the embassy in the morning to show that I had lost it. "Wait here"

Finally another policeman came out with a big grin on his face and said - "Are you Tom Connolly from New Zealand" "Ahh Yes" "Do you recognise this" holding up my lost passport. Be jeebers - the luck of the Irish twice over !!!!!! Never let me hear a bad word about Latvia policing again :)