I lost my ID in another country and forfeited $2,500 when my trip was cut short. Here's what I learned and how I got home.
- I lost my ID while traveling in Canada, which ruined my planned six-day, $2,500 trip to Churchill.
- After searching the streets for hours, I gave up and used my birth certificate to travel home.
I recently planned a trip to Churchill, Canada, — a tiny, frigid town that happens to be extremely remote and difficult to reach.
But since Churchill is one of the best places to see the Northern Lights and potentially some polar bears, I've always wanted to visit. I was ready to do whatever it took to get there.
That meant taking a train, three different planes, and then a shuttle — almost 48 hours of travel, one way.
But I had to cancel my trip when one of the worst things happened: I lost my ID somewhere on the streets of Vancouver, my first travel stop.
Here's what I learned from the ordeal.
Stashing my ID in my coat pocket was not a good idea
Once the customs officer at the Pacific Central Station in Vancouver cleared me, I put my ID in my coat pocket with my phone and zipped the pocket shut, planning to return it to my wallet later.
But I forgot all about that when I stepped outside to a downpour.
While juggling my luggage and an umbrella, I kept pulling my phone out to check directions — which is when my ID must have fallen out onto the streets of Vancouver.An hour later, I realized I didn't have my ID and started to panic.
First, I called the non-emergency police line, where an officer took my information and filed a report. Then I called Air Canada, who told me I couldn't board my plane without photo ID.
When I tried calling the United States embassy, I learned it wouldn't open until Monday, the next day.
With nothing else to do, I miserably walked back and forth through the rainy streets for the next three hours.
I checked Amtrak's lost and found, stopped by restaurants to ask if anyone had found an ID card, and even looked inside trash cans.
Finally, I ran out of time to make my flight. So, I gathered my luggage and walked back to the Amtrak station, where the conductor checking tickets helped me get home.
I'd packed my birth certificate last-minute in case of an emergency, and she said I could get home with that and helped me book a last-minute ticket back to Seattle.
Next time I travel, I'll do these four things:
1. Bring a backup form of ID
As a Washington state resident, I can enter Canada by land and fly within Canada with my enhanced driver's license.
Of course, now I really wish I had taken the time to get my passport renewed before it expired and brought it along just in case. If I'd lost either form of ID, I could have kept going with the other.
2. Keep everything together
I shouldn't have ignored my brain's insistence to return my ID to my wallet immediately.
If I had kept everything in my wallet, stored safely in my backpack, I wouldn't have missed out on my trip — which cost about $2,500 for train fare, airfare, hotels, and essential cold-weather gear.
3. Spring for the refundable ticket
I did purchase travel insurance for my plane tickets, but as it turns out, it only covers things like illness, injury, flight cancellations, or serious emergencies.
It doesn't extend to circumstances like "lost my ID through my own carelessness."
Next time, I think I'll pay a little extra to get a fully refundable ticket. If anything comes up, it'll be worth it.
4. Upload a photo of my ID to my phone
A photo of my ID would have helped me verify my identity in this nightmare. I hadn't even thought of this as an option until the Amtrak conductor asked if I had a photo of my license saved on my phone.
I'm pretty sure showing Canadian customs a photo of my lost ID would have helped me get through the tense interview a little more smoothly, too. They were nice, but they still had to do their job.
Even though this travel mishap left me devastated, I'm grateful I only lost my ID and that I made it back home the same day.
I also learned an important lesson. When I travel again, I won't put anything essential in my pockets — not even for a second.