Turning the corner, hoping the hostel was where was supposed to be from the map, my dad and I spotted my mom across the street. With a smile I waved over and scampered across the street to her. With a sigh of relief, I went up and hugged her with this feeling of safety that we were in the right place. We walked together into the hostel, and as the door opened a warm rush of air from the hostel hit my body almost dropping me to the floor in relief. Walking in, I scanned the lobby and spotted some couches by a fireplace. Of course, after a long chilly walk across Paris that would be my final destination. My mom and dad followed along, and we sat around the fireplace. That was when my mom asked me that long expected question, “What happened?” We were two weeks into our three-week trek across Europe in a group of eleven. The group included my family with my uncle, Roy and Jane Sharp with their grand kids and two other friends. At the time we were in Cinque Terre, Italy. The next morning we planned to leave by train to Paris. Waking up was pretty hard since we basically walked all yesterday. Every inch my body moved it felted like needles piercing my insides. Yet, I got myself up and got ready to go out to the train station. Our whole group was out there on time for the train, and we all had those sleepy expressions on our face due to the early start. A few minutes later I could hear the train coming down the tunnel, and when it got close a gush of air came swarming out of the tunnel. It almost felt like you were in a hurricane. When the train halted to a stop we all hopped on and got seated, and off we went. About five minutes in I checked if I had everything on me, such as my passport. I checked for where my passport would usually be, but it wasn’t there. Looking through the rest of my luggage, all I found was the tube of toothpaste I lost earlier that week. Suddenly I realize the night before I put my passport under my pillow,