This weekend had a, shall we say, rocky start. The plan was to go to Cologne, Germany with my roommate and two of our friends. I’d been there before and was looking forward to the prospect of seeing the town anew. We bought our tickets during the week, booked our hostel, planned our schedules, everything was set. Even though we were taking a bus at 6.10 in the morning on Saturday and coming back at 1am on Sunday a weathered voyager like me couldn’t help but be excited.
That was short lived. Upon reaching the spot where the bus was set to pick us up and whisk us off to Germany I realized I had forgotten one tiny yet necessary item back at the apartment. Yes, it was in fact my passport. Hold the applause, stifle the laughter, I know I messed up. The thing is, it honestly didn’t even cross my mind. Maybe since I travelled in Italy this summer without leaving its borders, I took the idea of a passport for granted. I even recall once taking a train from Nice, France to Sanremo, Italy with a whole group of people, and none of us brought a passport. Regardless of the reason for my mishap, I clearly need to stop thinking of my licence as my main form of identification.
I think I could’ve gone to Germany with little to no problem, sans passport, but one never knows what other problems one might run into. I doubt they checked them on the bus but the hostel may have wanted to make a copy of it, I could’ve needed it for the way back, countless other passport emergencies MAY have happened. I would’ve have probably been fine…but I stayed here in Brussels, just to play it safe. Ah well, there’s always next weekend.