My wife and I went from Hamburg to Belgrade on 31st December. We had connected flights and from Hamburg we went to Zurich. In Zurich we realized my wife lost her passport. The situation is hilarious looking back, but totally not fun while it’s happening. So, her passport fell from her pocket in the plane and we noticed that on our way to the customs. What happens next is hell breaking loose, which we kindda expected for several reasons, but let me go back to the begining.

The reason why we were in Hamburg so late in the year was CCC, of course. That means we’re with our friends in Hamburg on the night of 30th, and flying home on the morning of the 31th December. One thing was sure: we won’t get enough sleep. Laying down in 4am and getting up at 6am makes you slugish. We asked a German friend about the S-Bahn to airport, and although it helped, seing everything in German in 7am throws you off the balance. Moreover, S1, which we were waiting, has (at least) 2 platforms which are not next to each other. After some reading we found out which is the right one and which dirrection we need. Now comes the first big problem: first 3 cars don’t end up on the same place as last 3 cars, so in order to get to the airport, you have to enter the right one. Description is, of course, in German. Finding someone awake at 7am on 31th December is hard. Finding someone who speaks German and English at that exact same time is … frustrating, but we made it. Second problem: although the customs work 24/7, the one you need to get you EU tax money back works 9-17!!! There’s no country in the world that doesn’t hide behind bureaucracy when they need to give you (back) money. That was really, really close to our first departure, that I got my money back, got mu bag and entered the plane with ~5 minutes breaks between the actions. Third problem: got in Zurich, no passport. For fuck sake, how big that airport is! It’s even bigger when you have a forth problem: you didn’t go to toilet for 5 days, and your somach decides to do something about it that very minute. Fift problem: wife had an operation last year and running is not what she can do for long. Sixt problem: it’s fucking New Year, no one is working … almost. Luckily, the clerk we saw about lost passport is one very capable woman who managed to find it by having 1000 phone calls. One thing was going on our hand: our plane was comming from Amsterdam where the fog made all flights late around ~40 minutes.

So, after around 40 minutes of running with a feeling of a knife in my stomach, we got into the line for departure. At that moment I’m all swetting like crazy, pushing all my things into my wife’s hands with only 4 words: “I can’t, no longer!”. How do you hurry in that situation? Relax so you mussle doesn’t cramp, or hurry like crazy? I’ll tell you this much: that was the fastest toilet business in my life. OK, everything is fine, I’m in line again, than in plane, we’re in Belgrade … fuck!!! Did that clerk say she called the gate to take our bags off the plane because they can not travel without us? I remember she did that, but did she call back? After ~15 minutes at staring at other people luggage, we saw our bags. Of course they were the last.

Everything is fine now, really. We only need to get home, which has little detour to get a drivers dog so she doesn’t freak out when all the cracks start banging. After that we finally got home! Ah, rest, finally.

Rest my ass! In 4 hours friends are comming, we’re celebrating New Year at our flat. Shower, eat, sleep 2 hours, drink, eat, drink, drink … in 3am pass out. Please, no more exciting and tiresome events untill summer, please!