I’m sure everyone would agree with me: rule number one while staying abroad – take care of your personal belongings. The more important they are, the closer you keep them to yourself. Most busy public transport stations also keep repeating the same thing. And yet, I somehow managed to break this rule #1 twice. Not once but twice! I managed to lose my backpack and my purse. Spoiler alert: everything ended happily (almost). However, I wouldn’t wish to anyone the stress and frustration I experienced on these two occasions.
Story No.1: An abandoned backpack on a train
First of all, a little bit of context here. In the 2014 fall semester, I studied near the famous Leaning Tower city of Pisa with a students exchange program. I lived in a shared apartment with some Italians. Back then, I decided to spend Christmas back in Lithuania with my family; therefore, I booked a roundtrip ticket Milan-Vilnius-Milan. After the holidays, on the 9th of January (I remember this day as it was just yesterday), I flew back to Milan. From there, I took a train back to Pisa.
I had super heavy luggage that I could barely lift. One charming gentleman helped me take my suitcase on a train to my endless joy in exchange for me holding his morning newspaper for a second. He also asked if I’m carrying bricks in there. No, not bricks, just all the goodies I brought from Lithuania to my Italian friends.
Since my suitcase was too heavy to lift on a shelf above my head – and I swear, I didn’t even want such a heavy object hanging directly over me – I left it in a narrow hallway and placed it in a way that I could keep an eye on it. I had a leather backpack on my shoulders as well. There I kept all my life: my wallet with all the documents and bank cards, my passport, apartment keys, and a brand new photo camera. I put my precious backpack on that overhead shelf like all other passengers did with their smaller bags.
It took me nearly three hours to reach Pisa. I remember it so clearly: I stood up, fixed my hair looking in a mirror, grabbed my brick-filled suitcase, and left the train, not even realizing that I forgot the most important item on it. Unfortunately, it took me too long to remember.
I left the platform and walked into the train station. I needed to buy a bus ticket in a kiosk to get back to my apartment. The kiosk was right there, on a corner. I was standing in line when a logical sequence of thoughts started to come to my head: ok, I will buy a ticket… need to pay for it… I need my wallet… My wallet is in my backpack…And my backpack is… Where is my backpack??? All of a sudden, reality struck me, and I become a human bullet. I bolted to a lady who worked in a candy store and asked to keep an eye on my luggage while I’ll run back to my arrival platform, hoping that my backpack hasn’t departed yet. I guess my face looked scared to death because the lady didn’t ask me anything else, just said: “Run!”.
And I ran as fast as I could on the way, thinking what a wimp I am and how could I be so distracted. I arrived on the platform, gasping to see that it was empty. No train. It continued its journey to Livorno, another coastal city approximately 30 km away. That one time when I would have been grateful for the delay, it didn’t happen. I was almost crying, not knowing what to do next. A station worker approached me and tried to calm me down – everything is ok, the next train to Livorno arrives in another 20 minutes. And then I explained to him that I didn’t miss a train. I left all my belongings there.
The man didn’t leave me alone. He took me to the dispatcher room in the train station and explained all the situation to some lady. She contacted the train conductor and he confirmed that he found an abandoned backpack exactly where I said it would be. The only question remains: how to get it back?
The lady explained the two options in theory: 1) she’ll arrange the return of my backpack with another train or 2) I’ll go to the train station in Livorno and pick it up myself. It would have been great if I had had any money at the time. I couldn’t purchase a train ticket to Livorno. All my money was in that backpack.
Then she advised me to go home and wait for her call (I kept my phone in my pocket). I couldn’t do this either since I didn’t have my apartment keys and my flatmates were out of town for the next few days. So, I went to take back my heavy suitcase and left the train station. I sat on a bench near fellow homeless people. Ironically, they asked me to give them some money, but when I angrily answered that I don’t have any money on me, they didn’t believe me.
I spent nearly three hours on the bench. I was starving but didn’t have money for food. And finally, I got the long-awaited call – my backpack came back to me. There were no words to describe my joy and gratitude. Nothing was missing. Well, almost nothing. Someone took 50 euros from my wallet, but I understood that it was a small price I needed to pay for my distractedness.
Story No.2: An abandoned purse on a bus
It’s like Deja Vu – me again leaving personal items on public transport. Just this time, I was even more scared since everything happened in Istanbul, outside the EU. It’s not the best idea to travel to Turkey without a passport. But first, some context.
In 2019 I was volunteering in Gaziantep, not far away from the Syrian border. I got 4 days off and decided to fly and explore Istanbul. I also invited my dear friend Miriam to arrive from France and join me. So, we agreed to meet up at the airport and take a shuttle bus to the city center of Istanbul.
Everything was going smoothly according to our plan. Both flights were on time, and Miriam was already waiting for me. It was already late evening, and we hurried to catch a shuttle to the city center. In no time, we were already sitting on a bus. That time I had a big backpack stuffed with fewer essential items and a purse with a wallet and passport. My backpack went straight to an overhead compartment, and I put my purse on my lap. I was afraid to forget it, so I kept it as close as possible.
The trip to the city center took more than an hour. This is how big Istanbul is. We got off the bus and headed towards our hotel. It took us about 20 minutes to get there. Once we arrived, we needed to show our passports for checking-in, and…you probably already understand what happened. I realize again that I left my purse on that bus. It was late evening, I was tired, and probably I fell asleep for a moment. And this is when my purse slipped from my lap on the floor without me noticing anything.
I was freaking out. How will I find my passport in the multimillion city? It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. My friend tried to calm me down, a receptionist guy wasn’t fluent in English, but he somehow understood that I lost my passport. He let us check in anyway and contacted a friend who spoke in English a bit better. I explained everything: from which airport we took a shuttle bus to, what company it belongs to, at which stop we ended our trip. He promised to help me—a stranger. The receptionist told us to go to sleep. It was around 1 am after all. He assured me that if he learns anything, he’ll inform me immediately.
I didn’t sleep that night at all. I was thinking about my future steps, and the more I thought, the more desperate I felt. Without any doubt, my passport is gone forever, together with a bunch of other documents. But the passport is counted the most. The Lithuanian embassy is in Ankara, not Istanbul. To get there, I would need to take a flight. And how could I take a flight if I don’t have my passport? A vicious circle. Take a bus? Maybe. But I’ve heard and experienced before, for that matter, that sometimes authorities even pull over busses to check if all the passengers have their ID and, therefore, legally reside in Turkey.
The next morning I went to the reception around 6 AM, hoping to find the same guy there. He welcomed me with a smile. “Your passport. They found it. But you need to go and pick it up yourself. They didn’t want to give it to my friend” – he informed me. I was about to ask him how long he knew this information since I couldn’t fall asleep the whole night, but I kept myself from complaining. In the end, he and his friend helped me so much—two complete strangers.
I got directions to the bus office where supposedly my passport was waiting for me. Miriam and I hurried there in the early morning. I felt so guilty that because of me, we started our vacation together on the wrong foot. It took us a while to find that office since it was buried deep in an apartment complex. But luckily, a guy accompanied us there, and he knew why we were at their office so early.
Another guy brought my purse and asked me to check if nothing was missing. I grabbed it and immediately felt through the fabric that my passport was there. I checked everything once again – everything was in place. Then the same guy insisted that I have to take out my wallet and count money. I tried to say that it’s not necessary since my passport is my biggest treasure, but he couldn’t let it go. After a few moments, I understood why. I checked my wallet. All my cash in Turkish lira, euros, and bank cards weren’t missing. Then, the guy in broken English asked me: “Photo of you? Publicity. Happy customer”. This is the least I could do for them. I smiled as wide as I could with the purse in my hand – a super lucky customer.
Loosing my personal belongings in a nutshell
Just after I’ve finished writing these two stories, I realized how similar they are. I hope I will never need to expand this article by adding a third one. One thing is obvious: there are a lot of good people around us. Complete strangers ready to help. So, when someone asks you to help, never turn these people down. You will never know when you’ll need this yourself.
