When did you last have a “what was I thinking moment?” Or better yet, what was I not thinking?
That was my last Friday night when a friendly Air Canada agent told me I was NOT getting on my plane to France. Not until I had a new passport that expired at least three months from my day of departure.
Stunned like a wounded boxer in the ring, I stammered, “Why not?” Quickly, I learned that valid travel documents to Europe meant a passport that did not expire for ninety days. Mine was coming due September 9. Do the math.
The gate agent empathetically told me that this happens every day to her. People like me (aka know-it-alls) don’t understand the details of their travel documents to know that every country you traverse has different rules. The French government, nary the EU, care two craps about what my Canadian passport reads. They are not letting you in.
My panicked mind raced. Today was August 2; I was to land on August 3. My conference starts on August 7. I must be there on August 6, or my colleague Matt must slide down the fire pole responding to the 911 call and grab the mic as our new emcee. He would have done a great job, but needless to say, the personal credibility loss and the lifetime of self-loathing I would endure was not landing well with me.
The options raced through my mind. Ontario’s Civic Holiday could cost me a day. How does one get a passport if the government is not open? I searched online for emergency passport offices, but they are there to help people who land in Canada. My wife found a number with Global Affairs to call. I got through on the first ring, and they kindly walked me through the process and sent a follow-up email with action steps.
That night, I got photos at 10:30 PM, and until midnight, I was in my office typing out a new passport application form. Of course, this would happen the week of our office move, so a printer still needs to be installed. I will solve that later. I collected names and numbers of people who could be my references all this time. Thankfully, I didn’t need them to sign anything.
I woke up angry on Saturday but restrained as I knew my family wanted the dog to be alive when they returned. More calls and emails. The passport emergency duty officer first, followed by neighbours to print forms and friends to ensure my references were ready. I kept the house/cat/dog sitter on standby. Several flights were under consideration, based on many contingencies, including the date of a new passport issue (wishfully thinking), departure city, and my budget tolerance to spend my way out of this mess. Legally.
9:16 AM. The emergency passport duty officer calls. They were unbelievably helpful. Next thing I know, I am heading to Mississauga for a noon appointment. The interview went fine. Then, I went off to sit in the mall and fidget while the government called my references and checked my file for speeding infractions and unpaid bills. A couple I met at the passport office with their travel issues wandered over for a chat.
12:45 The passport officer comes out and calls both our names. The couple go first. They have relieved smiles. Then I am up. I can barely walk, let alone breathe.
With a new passport in hand, I gleefully requested a ride to the airport and just fifteen hours later, I cleared customs in France.
The SPX Show will go on!
