Disaster is Too Strong a Word...

...but that's sure what it felt like at about 9:30am yesterday.  Glenn and I were busy throwing out the last little bits and pieces from the fridge, taking out the recycling, stripping the bed and putting the sheets in the washer, getting ready to return the cable box and router to SFR---all of the last-minute things we needed to do before heading to the airport.  Sandy was on high alert, given the packed bags and the level of activity.  I had just come down from the upper floor with a couple of stray charging cables to throw into our bags when Glenn said, "Sara, I think we have a problem."  My passport was not in its normal place, and a quick search had not turned it up.  

Everything was put on hold while we went through all of the carefully packed bags, checking pockets, folders of documents, and so forth, in search of the passport.  Nothing.  We tried to remember what I was wearing and exactly what I did when we returned from London a couple of weeks before.  We googled things like "American Embassy, Paris," and "emergency passport replacement."  We checked prices on flights that would leave a few days later.  We discussed the relative merits of asking to stay in the apartment versus moving to a hotel.  After an hour or so of panic, we concluded that the passport had almost certainly been packed in one of the boxes we shipped back to the US a couple of days ago, and there was no way to retrieve it.  We had to move forward with our plan of getting a replacement and changing my itinerary.  We assumed that it would be very costly to change the plane ticket at the last minute, so we didn't even really consider the possibility of both Glenn and me staying---Glenn would fly back on our original flight---and we knew that both Sandy and I would be happier if he stayed in Paris with me. 

Glenn managed to get me an appointment at the US Embassy first thing on Monday morning.  And they indicated that my new passport would be available by 11am that day.  Check.  We could start making concrete plans.  I called our apartment manager, and he said that it would be no problem for me to stay an extra four days or so.  Check.  Luckily we had not yet done things like throwing away all of the leftover soap, shampoo, toothpaste.  Glenn would still be leaving for the airport in a few hours, so we repacked some of the bags to make sure I would have everything I needed for the next few days, including documents necessary for the passport replacement.  We checked on many different flight options, including changing my AirFrance tickets, using Delta miles, or buying a new ticket on JetBlue.  We were told at first that the fare difference for AirFrance would be $1400, but somehow, when I called back a second time, the woman was able to get me on a Tuesday afternoon flight for no additional money.  Check.  Things were complicated as well by all of the paperwork associated with bringing Sandy back.  Everything was still in order, but we needed to see whether certain documents needed to be amended.

After a few very frenzied hours, things seemed pretty much set, and it was time for Glenn to leave for the airport.  Sandy and I went down with him to the curb to wait for his Uber.  (Sandy really wanted to get into the car with Glenn, sensing, I'm sure, that he was headed home.  We rarely take cars at all here in Paris, and I think he remembered that the last time there was a car and a lot of luggage involved was when we arrived from the airport a year ago.  To be honest, I wanted to hop into the car, too.)

Sandy and I then decided to check off an item on our new to-do list, get photos for my replacement passport.  I knew of a kiosk nearby that does them, so we headed there, but did not waste the opportunity to memorialize this crazy day and try to inject a little bit of fun.  

Crazy times, but now, perhaps, I have a little bit of leisure on my hands to do a few more Paris things that I had not quite fit in during our busy final weeks...