Stoppage time

No, the game is not over yet. There’s injury time. I’m going to the airport. Work offline for a few more hours. Go to check-in 2.5 hours before departure. I’m pleased to see the same woman at the counter who said earlier: “Kiteboard? No problem!”. Then I look for my passport. Search. Search. And search.

In the middle of the airport, I dismantle all my luggage. Unroll every T-shirt, open every bag. A 10 metre long carpet spreads out on the white marble floor. I check every corner of my rucksacks three times. Call the Lub*D again. Nothing. The last time I had my passport was the day before yesterday morning when I was packing. I haven’t taken it out since then. It must have been stolen.

I hurriedly mow through the crowds in my car to the immigration office. They only say what I suspected: “No passport, no flight.” Off. My plane leaves without me and I return to the Lub*D. The injury time begins. The Spaniard from this morning is there and looks at me funny. I tell him the story. He puts a beer in front of me. It’s by no means the only one tonight.

After two hours’ sleep, I go to the bank. The Spaniard has a plane ticket that he no longer needs. With a bit of luck, I’ll get home for €370. I buy it from him. When I pay, I realise that I need more sleep and less beer to keep my brain working. I’ve forgotten my only credit card in the ATM. I won’t get the card back until Monday at the earliest. Until then it’s blocked and I’m pretty destitute.

The policeman philosophises about Kahn and Lehmann while he writes my theft report. I take it to the German embassy. But there’s nothing I can do on Saturday. Maybe I’ll get a new passport on Monday. I don’t officially have a registered place of residence in Germany at the moment. The official in Regensburg looked me deep in the eye a year ago and said “Are you sure you want to deregister all your residences? That could cause massive problems if you lose your passport while travelling.”. It will be just another magic monday…

Monday is okay. Four hours of running round offices across Bangkok. Photographer, embassy, new passport, immigration office for stamps. Save bank and credit card (at the last second before shredding). Then first attempt to rebook the Spanish ticket. Can’t do it without his phone number, which I don’t have. Email to southern Thailand and luckily an answer by the evening. The rebooking works, tomorrow I’m going home for good. The stolen passport costs me just under 600 euros for the missed flight.