This happened in November/ December of 1985.

I was going away on business to Austria but I decided to take a couple of days
of vacation in the Alps before starting the business schedule.

The resort of S:t Anton in Tirol was chosen for the vacation.

One way of getting there is to take the plane from Stockholm to Frankfurt, Germany,
then change to a plane for Innsbruck, Austria and take the train from Innsbruck
to S:t Anton. I decided to give it a try.

There was a plane to catch in the friendly morning close to lunch time.

I took a taxi to the airport and realized that my passport is gone. I was quite
sure that I had put it in the coat that morning but still…there was no passport.

But what´s the hurry??
1) I´m going on a vacation. Calm down.

2) If the passport is gone it´s no big deal to get a new one. Living in a capital sometimes is advantageous.

3) This day was disastrous for all air traffic in Europe. There was a mighty snow storm in Frankfurt and no planes whatsoever were in the air somewhere close.

And since Frankfurt is the main airport for all continental Europe and a huge international hub it´s easy to understand that there would be no chance for me to leave in that direction for several hours.

So I slip back home, check if the passport for some reason stayed at home but of course it´s not to be found there. I have to get a new one.

To get a new passport in a hurry demanded a couple of things I found out.

1) Photocopies

2) Identity certification

3) For fast handling- a certificate from employer or similar.

4) Waiting a while at the police station issuing passports.

Well, photocopies I had. Certificate from employer- I didn´t bother about that.
The identity certification I got (even if the civic registration authority were off-hours!)
by calling them and picking it up from a taxi window.

In fact the authority lady were standing on the sidewalk waiting for my taxi to arrive.

Even the police, for once, were really service minded and glued that passport in less
than one hour.

So, off I go again to that same old airport.

There are still great disturbance at Frankfurt. But Munich airport is running quite good so I rebook the ticket for Munich instead.

Great fun on the plane. I meet a supplier I know and we have a drink. The supplier has recognized some culture personalities flying with us, they are going to performe in Munich.

One of the performers is mr. Buckard, actor, author and one of the greatest critics of society in Sweden. He´s also a preacher.

I pretend to know him well, and he feels he knows me but doesn´t quite understand where we met. I won´t tell him either.

After spending a while together travelling and in Munich I take a real snowy train from Munich to Austria.

Then after a week of holiday and another two weeks in business I head back home.

I stop with the taxi outside mo house and then again: Who is walking on the sidewalk?

Mr. Buckard of cource.

I say hallo; well we met in Munich, you remember.

-Oh yes, yes he answers most astonished.