How was I going to get home?

Hey guys!!!

As my first post I want to say thanks for following and giving it the time to read 🙂

So with this first story we’re going to talk about my past spring break experience in Europe (which included Paris, Barcelona, and Mannheim Germany). I decided since all of my friends and people I knew were going to Miami and all these tropical places, that I wanted to go somewhere cool since I had never been anywhere for spring break because I was that guy that worked for other people who wanted to go somewhere cool…. so I ended up going somewhere cool for sure, but it definitely was not a warm place haha. It started with getting an email from Scott’s Cheap Flights round trip to Paris for $500, so immediately without thinking I bought it not knowing where I was staying or what I was going to do, I just knew I was going to go. From there, it just sort of developed into different activities and countries to visit. All in all, it was an AMAZING trip and really made grow up as an adult as I had to book flights, plan museum visits, budget food, and actually wake up super early without any parent telling you to get up. Definitely without knowing any German or French it was quite hard to get around on the subway, train, and buses; though knowing Spanish was super helpful when I was in Barcelona (maybe future home?? haha).

On our last day in Paris (btw get yourself travel friends, that do things on the fly and just love to live in the moment and see new places and people – these people will make your life SO much better) we were heading to the airport, which is like an hour and fifteen from the main part of Paris by subway. It takes 2 main subways to get to the airport, and we got on the first one with plenty of time to get there. If none of you have ever been to NYC in prime time in the subway, that is something you have to experience but will never forget. Its like opening up a flood gate and every single drop of water trying to get through that door/gate at once. This was very similar to NYC as we waited to get on the subway you all huddle up and push against the people in front of you like you were waiting to see your favorite singer and they were about to open the doors and say “GO”. That’s great and all until you have a backpack and carry on luggage with you trying not to get it stolen and trying to keep your shoulder awake enough to function. As the doors close when you are on, people are getting shut in the doors because they want to make this ride and arms grabbing anywhere where they can. Halfway through the ride, it just stops at one of the stations, which is normal until 20 minutes later you’re still sitting there, and all these French people are yelling wondering what is up, you’re sweating, and it suddenly dawns on you that you’re going to be late. I also had forgotten to take my anxiety medicine this morning, which was such a horrible day to forget. My anxiety started to skyrocket knowing that time is everything, and I need to catch my flight home. Being sick, tired, and jacked up on anxiety is not a fun feeling. Finally, the train starts to move again and a few stations later we have to get off and have less than 4 minutes to catch the other subway heading to the airport. The doors open, and we sprint to the next subway… and when I get there I realize I feel a bit lighter than normal. Looking down and patting my shoulders, my heart drops and I instantly want to throw up. During that 20 minutes of just standing and waiting I had set down my backpack, and completely forgot it on the subway. Which had my camera, some clothes, my apple watch, my journal, and most importantly… my passport. I had to tell myself that I couldn’t just break down and cry in front of all these adults going to work on a normal Thursday.

From there, we went to security and got them to call the subway and ask if there was a backpack, and of course there was not. Then walking into this massive airport, being like “Hello I’m Luke Stover and I have no passport to get home” *BIG fake smile*. All I knew how to do was go to the Delta check in and explain what is happening, which is exactly what I did. Which then ended up having to call the US Embassy and have one of the Ambassadors that was from Atlanta but lived in Paris to come over and help (which was pure gold because he actually spoke great English and knew what my issue was). Shout out to Ron for the help. He re-scheduled my flight and my friends too for 3 hours later with no extra charge, because by then we had missed check in on our other flight. He had to cross-reference a system that had all the US citizens in it with my social security number, my drivers licence number, address, picture and lots more to make sure it was really me. They aren’t supposed to let you go back to your home country for at least a day to a week when you lose your passport, but having a photocopy of your passport, which I did, is the key. (Travel tip: if you travel anywhere make sure you make at least 2 of those) But, Ron really helped me out and approved my to go home on the flight 3 hours later. I went to check in for my new flight when I got a random text from a French number, which was odd because this whole trip I never used an international plan, just Wi-Fi when it was available, so that was a God moment no doubt; because it came through as a SMS instead of an imessage. It said something along the lines of “Hello, is this Luke Stover? I have your backpack and here is the address I am at.” Being a smart traveler, and not wanting to get robbed at this address, I got Delta to call this number and talk to him in French and make sure he sounded credible. The address was an hour away in a small town where he told Delta that he shared an office as a social worker. Though another issue arose as I tried to check in again with Delta, and a French women and security said “I didn’t have the ability to return to the USA because they didn’t clear me.” So once again they had to call the US Embassy, and Ron came back over and was not a happy camper. He yelled at them saying “I ALREADY approved him if you would have done your job and checked the system!” Since they finally let me check in, we took an Uber an hour away to this random house in the middle of no where and walked in looking for this guy who we didn’t know his name or what he looked like. As we entered, we asked “parlez vous anglais” (do you speak English? in french) and all the workers shook their head no. We eventually got them to call this number and a guy came up from the lower level of the house with my backpack. It was our lucky guy, named Sebastian who actually could speak some broken English. I ran over and gave him a huge hug, and he was shocked. I asked him some things about himself and how he found it and his response was the best saying, “I tried to call the USA, but no one picked up….” hahaha sounds about right. “But then I found your journal with your number in the front and decided to just call you directly and try that.” He gave us some coffee and told us to get back home now that we had all our stuff. In the Uber ride back to the airport, I decided to check out my journal and saw that on my last page, he had written an entry in French and then translated it below with cute little drawings of fireworks and the Eiffel Tower. I almost cried as it made me so emotional that he would take the time out of his day to write an entry in my journal knowing that is one of my favorite things to do on a trip. (I will put a picture of his entry below as it will make some of you laugh/smile) I made the flight back home with lots of security watches, searches, and weird looks from the French.

Moral to this story is that there are still good people in this world. No matter where you go, there is still good out there; you just have to look for it. It all depends on your perspective on the situation and how you’re going to process it as good or bad. Life is short and quite an adventure if you make it one. Go out there and make some memories. And as my father calls it, go be a “memory seeker“.