Language Love

In 2003, I had the wonderful opportunity to backpack through the EU with three friends.  Two of these friends had just finished their mandatory service time with the Finnish army, and they were both happy to be out of the service and getting back to real life.  I was excited to see the two, and even more so to be travelling!

So to be as economical as possible, the four of us were using Eurail Passes that provided unlimited travel for one total cost.  But, there were only so many spaces to fill in the dates of travel on our passes.  As any 19-something years olds would do, we started fudging the dates to extend the pass ... fours became eights, fives became sixes ... and we thought we were getting away with it.  Until we were on a train heading into Madrid for a connection to Portugal.  The ticket checker man sniffed us out and knew exactly what we were doing.  In the middle of the night, he demanded our passports and our Rail Passes, and told us we'd get them back when we could pay the fine.  I don't remember the exact number, but it was something to the tune of 300 euros.

THREE HUNDRED EUROS.  That was way more than any of us wanted to spend, and frankly much more of a fine than I think our transgressions were worth.  So we had to regroup and figure out what to do.  Stuck in the train station in Madrid without a passport is a scary feeling.  Not knowing where we were going to get the money was even scarier.

The guys I were travelling with decided the best approach to the situation would be to drink beer.  Because, yea, that makes sense.  So they went for a pint and I headed to the restroom on the lower level of the train station.  There were two restrooms to choose from - one on the left and one on the right.  I chose the one on the left because I'm left handed.  Went to the last stall in the first row and sort of just collapsed onto the door and sobbed a bit.  What the fuck were we going to do?  I let it all out, and then looked down.  There was a wad of euros on the ground.  Wait, what?

I opened the stall door as quietly as I could to see if the money was some kind of set-up.  No one else was in the restroom with me.  Thought about what I should do for all of four seconds and swooped up the cash.  I put it in my bag and went to leave the restroom.  And the door was fucking locked.

My mind racing, I decided it must be some kind of weird sting operation set up by the Spanish transit authority, and I was going to be stuck in Spain for the rest of my life.  I started pounding and kicking on the door, calling for someone to open it.  After a bit, a restroom attendant opened the door.  She looked as surprised to see me as I to see her.  I guess I'd missed seeing the sign that the restroom was going to be closed for cleaning.  Instead of saying thank you in English, I said Merci.  I don't even speak French!  It was the first word that came to me.

Money in my bag, I rushed to find the guys, and told them what happened.  They were in disbelief, but when I showed the cash, they knew we were saved.  I have no idea who lost that money, and I'm sorry that you did.  But thank you so much for saving me and my friends and our trip.  I'm still so very grateful to you.  If you're reading this, send me a message and I'd be happy to refund it!