Originally written February 2020
Paris
I was upgraded to business class on my flight from London to Paris. Very nice—except there was one small problem.
In economy, someone is usually ahead of you, so all you have to do is follow everybody else. In business class, I was one of the first people off the plane, and apparently everyone around me only had hand luggage.
So I confidently walked straight out…
…only to realise I had somehow reached the exit without ever seeing the baggage carousel. 
I retraced my steps, but by then the airport was almost empty. An Asian lady approached me and asked where she could get a taxi. I pointed her towards the sign, then thought I might as well ask her where she had collected her luggage.
It turn out, the very shy baggage carousel was behind the first door after getting off the plane. I’m used to baggage collection being closer to the exit, so naturally I had marched straight past it.
Unfortunately, the door was now closed.
A cleaner told me to knock.
So there I was in Paris airport, knocking on a gigantic metal airport door for nearly half an hour like someone trying to be readmitted into the country.
Eventually, another cleaner helped me retrieve my suitcase.
And that was only the beginning.
I arrived in Paris carrying about €20, US$100 and a little bit of British pounds and Swiss francs. I had already spent US$60 on the taxi, thinking I could simply exchange or withdraw more money the following day.
I also had a 2 pm Eiffel Tower tour booked.
Naturally, I didn’t make it to the meeting point.
So I missed the Eiffel Tower tour and decided instead to find a currency exchange.
That was when I discovered my next problem.
I had left my physical debit card in Australia because Graeme needed it for the business. Before travelling, I had checked online and understood that Apple Pay was widely accepted throughout Europe, so I thought I would be fine.
Except many of the places I tried in Paris wouldn’t accept it.
The currency exchange couldn’t help me. The ATMs I tried didn’t offer the cardless withdrawal option I needed. Suddenly I found myself in Paris with money sitting safely in my bank account—and almost no way of accessing it.
I had less than €20 cash left, and I became too frightened to spend much of it.
Thank God for McDonald’s.
It was one of the few places I found where my Apple Pay worked reliably, so at least I could eat without touching my precious remaining cash.
I kept telling myself, As long as I can get to the airport, I’ll be fine.
Nope.
That didn’t solve the problem either.
Eventually, I came up with another solution: I sent money to myself through Western Union and arranged to collect it at my next destination—Israel.
So much for feeling loved in the City of Love.
Paris was beautiful.
My relationship with Paris, however, was complicated.
Stories Along the Way 