Pure kindness in Istanbul

The first thing I did after we walked into our hotel room was reach into my trusty back pocket to discover an absent passport, which instantly struck fear into my heart.

I consider myself to be a savvy international traveler. I'm usually very organized and I'm always conscience of the whereabouts of my passport. But here I was, about two hours into our Istanbul trip and I was not in possession of that little blue bastard.

Of course the initial reaction was to turn every little piece of luggage upside down and search. After it looked like a touring rockstar just had a freakout in our hotel room, still no passport.

Then it was time to trace back my footsteps: Got off plane. Went through immigration. Duty-free store for whiskey. Taxi ride. Hotel.

OK, seemed simple enough. Needed passport to get through immigration so that narrowed it down. For some reason, when you purchase stuff at Duty-free, they always ask for your boarding ticket and passport. Why is that? Does the place moonlight as a passport lost and found headquarters?

I guess while morons salivate at their liquor purchase, it's easy to lose track of things.

Before I got ahead of myself, I didn't want to discount the taxi ride. It was about a 40-minute ride from the Istanbul Ataturk Airport to the Swissotel The Bosphorus and the passport could have slipped out of my pocket. Maybe.

Insteasd of grabbing some evening drinks with my wife and enjoying our first dinner in the city, we were both back in a cab to continue our investigation at the airport. Trust me, it was a shitty way to start off a trip.

What if I did not retrieve it? Would I have to stay in Istanbul? Would I have to make the 4 1/2-hour drive to Ankara, Turkey's capitol, to visit the U.S. embassy? And what if the riots start up again? Ugh, too many horrible scenarios.

But during these frantic moments, we encountered pure kindness that will not soon be forgotten.

Our cab driver Igor, even though he spoke very little English, understood our predicament and even reconized the taxi receipt I showed him from our earlier ride. Turns out, it was a friend of his. Crazy city. There are thousands of taxi drivers but just by chance, we were in his buddy's cab.

While he negoiated the crazy downtown traffic in Istanbul, he was on the phone trying to locate the guy. They spoke Turkish on the phone and his happy response suggested that the first cabbie did, indeed, have the passport. When he hung up, he said, "No problem, we'll meet him."

In reality, he was just happy because it was confirmed that yes, his buddy did give a young, good-looking couple a ride from the airport to the hotel earlier in the day. So for the next two hours, we sat with Igor at the taxi cab hangout spot near the airport and sipped Turkish tea while under the impression his buddy had my passport.

He did not and we learned that the hard way when he finally rotated back toward the airport with a confused look on his face. We searched every inch of the back seat of the taxi and still no passport.

By this time, I think Igor had felt like a member of the team. He would not quit until this mission was completed. So after we came up with zilch on his friend's cab, the three of us marched toward the airport terminal more determined than ever.

Once again, Igor took the lead and started to speak Turkish with people at Lost and Found, infomation desks and even security gaurds. Meanwhile, Miranda disappeared on her own little search.

I think Igor was getting frustrated with his Turkish counterparts and the lack of infomation and help we had received. It was right about then when I was about to quit. A look of discouragment dominated Igor's face.

Just then, I glanced over at the recent arrivials and saw Miranda scurrying through the crowd holding something in the air. My amazing wife had somehow finagled her way back into the arrivials terminal -- despite the armed Turkish security guards not speaking English -- and retrieved my passport at the very same Duty-free counter I had visited before.

Initally, the lady at the desk said no one had turned in a missing passport but Miranda recognised it sitting just past the counter and they gave it to her without any questions asked. What a country!

My over-the-top celebration followed by the ecstatic embrace I gave my wife was only appropriate because we were at the arrivials area inside an airport terminal. I literally started to kiss her feet before she reluctantly squashed the loving gesture due to her blushing in public.

We had found the passport and it was a complete team effort. Well, in retrospect, I did not do much but complain, and worry and curse myself, but it didn't matter because Igor and Miranda saved the day.

After our triumph, we walked back to Igor's cab and he drove us all the way back to our hotel. During the trip, we found out his shift had ended more than an hour ago so the trip was just another example of his kindness. When we got back to the hotel, I asked him what he was thought as far as money because he never turned on the meter the entire time.

"No problem," he said.

Once again, Igor gave me another reason to smile as he reaffirmed my trust in humanity. Do to others how you would like to be treated. I emptied my wallet inside his cab that night but I made sure to keep a very firm grip on my passport.

After a tramatic first evening in Istanbul, the rest of the trip was pure bliss...