April 5, Just Wait a Day…Everything Can Change

Before I describe today's events, let me post some pictures of Auckland, both as we were approaching the landing and as we were approaching the Auckland Centre (central business district.)

(Lady I met on the plane; she was seated next to me.)

(Everything's brighter above the clouds!)

(Some of the several islands off of the Auckland coast)

(The coastline of metro Auckland)

(Metro Auckland)

(Approaching the Auckland Centre)

(Auckland Centre)

(Approaching our hotel, the Hilton)

(Wharf view from the hotel)

(Wharf view from the hotel)

(Wharf view from the hotel)

(Auckland skyline from the hotel room patio)

After we arrived at the hotel yesterday, Doug noticed that he did not have his passport. We were both sure that he had it, when he went through the Wellington airport. The ticket agent used his passport, to help him get his boarding pass. Both of us were certain that she returned it to him. He was certain that the passport made it through the security checkpoint. Beyond that, we were not certain of anything, except that he did not have it, could not find it.

That night, we began the process of trying to get a replacement – an emergency passport. It was not clear from the consulate’s website what we could do. We could not speak with anyone, because the office was closed after 4pm. There was no emergency, after-hours number, and everything on the consulate website said that the loss of a passport was not considered an emergency. Patrise had the brilliant idea to contact our dear friend Rashad Jones – more like a third child to us, actually – to ask his advice on how we might proceed. Rashad is in the diplomatic corps and earlier in his career, he handled passport and visa issues for Americans and residents from other countries, while stationed at various embassies and consulate offices. We called him, left a message, and we emailed him with the details of our situation.

We went to eat an early dinner, which resulted in us visiting a restaurant near the hotel, the Morocana. As the name implied, it was a restaurant for Moroccan cuisine. After we ordered, and as we were waiting for our dinner to be served, we realized that I needed to get a new passport photo this evening, in order to be able to go the consulate tomorrow morning, should the opportunity present itself. Therfore, after dinner, I hailed an Uber. The driver made his way through rush hour traffic – and yes, there was a lot of it – to get to a location thirty minutes away. We arrived shortly before the store closed at 6:30pm. Meanwhile, Patrise had made her way back to the hotel, to go online and further investigate our options for tomorrow and start on the new passport application.

I took the Uber back to the hotel; the same driver waited for me, to shorten the return trip. Once back at the hotel room, we had received an email from Rashad. He provided us with detailed instructions and a link to the appropriate site to access the needed paperwork. I then worked through the evening to get the paperwork filled out and copies of the necessary documents prepared – copies of current passport, birth certificate, and driver’s license.

Without a passport, I would not be able to leave Auckland and finish with the rest of our journey; and had Patrise decided not to continue the trip without me. We went to bed with many questions and few answers. Personally, I was feeling awful – our entire trip was on the line and at risk of being disrupted entirely. It was not a great way to end the day. I will say that Patrise urged me to have faith, to turn this one over to God, since clearly we could not see a way forward.