This is the real story of the missing wallet. A wallet containing my driver's license, contact information and ALL the money for our trip (several hundred dollars in USD and Romanian Lei). We were near Agapia, in the heart of northern Moldova, which was a good 8-10 hours away from our belongings and the rest of our money.

At 8:45 p.m., after we found lodging with the Toader family and were headed out the door for dinner, I discovered that my wallet was missing. I searched my motorcycle jacket pockets--and it has a lot of them, believe me. Nothing. Then I searched my motorcycle pants and my jeans. Nothing. Then I moved on to the bags, the tank bag, and the trunk. Nothing.

At this point, I realized that the last time I had handled the wallet was at the Rompetrol gas station that afternoon at 4:30 p.m. After that stop, we had also stopped at two monasteries. Where could I have lost the thing? I am very particular about the place I keep my wallet, especially when I travel. This was very unusual. At almost 9 p.m., I realized that we had to travel back to the gas station in order to attempt to locate the wallet.

We left our bags with our new hosts, mounted the bike and with the impending darkness rode those 98 horses to their capacity retracing our route back to the gas station in Piatra Neamt (40 kilometers south). Along the way, we remembered a couple of roadside stops we made for photography, so we checked those spots as well. Nothing.

When we got to the gas station, I talked with the manager on duty and told him my story. He was gracious enough to pull up the entire afternoon's video surveillance and review it. Sure enough, there we had been--rather odd to watch yourself on someone else's video monitor going about your business. We had gassed up. We had placed an order for the sandwiches. The cameras had even recorded our exit on the terrace where we had eaten. At this point, the surveillance system had a blind spot, and did not record our eating (somewhat comforting, I guess). But, it showed us leaving the premises all geared up. Nowhere along the way was there a hint of a falling wallet. They also assured me that no one working at the station had found a wallet. So, I likely lost it and someone probably found it. And with the stash of money in it, they would have long been gone. So, still nothing.

Depressed and exhausted, we returned at 11:45 p.m. to the quiet village of Agapia. I had made a few phone calls (thankfully, I still had the cell phone) and was promised an emergency postal money transfer in the morning. Thankful to have a bed, each other, and at least our passports, cell phone and motorcycle, we crashed for the night.

Yet, we clearly could not find sleep. Something did not make sense. I had a clear memory of the entire afternoon and evening -- of every stop and of the last moment I had the wallet. I even had a distinct memory of having taken the wallet at the gas station, after ordering the sandwiches, and placing it in my motorcycle jacket inner pocket. Why was it not there?

So we started recounting the events out loud. Well, we had stopped... we had gassed the bike... we had ordered the sandwiches... I had paid for them and walked over to the terrace... where I had placed the wallet in my motorcycle jacket...

At that exact moment, while laying in bed in the dark, we both realized that our motorcycle jackets were identical except for the size! And I had clearly not paid attention in whose jacket I had placed my wallet.

While the room was still dark, a little past midnight, we both bolted out of bed to inspect the pockets of my wife's jacket. EUREKA! There was the wallet tucked inside with all of its contents intact! Yes, if the wallet could only tell its story… it would have been laughing at us!

Actually, in its own way, the wallet was probably laughing at us. Here we had gone stir crazy, rode around the countryside in a frenzy, agitated gas station attendants into reviewing video footage, and basically wasted 3 good hours while the wallet was going for the same joyride in my wife's jacket, unable to say a thing or make a single noise--hey, fools, I'm here, can't you see?!?!?!

Yes, it was one of those life moments when you stop. Yes, you really stop--your thoughts, your movement, your rush for the next moment. And you just sit there.

After that, you ask yourself what was the lesson to be learned from this adventure. Clearly, check the jacket you place your wallet into to make sure it's your own. Next, realize that most events have a reason or a logic of their own. Sometimes, it is difficult to see the thread connecting the individual moments that make up an event because we're too busy with other thoughts, rushing here-to-there.

It is difficult to achieve, yet stopping, relaxing the mind, and letting go of our expectations, fears, and anxieties will likely yield a different perspective - one that might even reveal new threads of reality and new horizons. Or at the very least, it might reveal the unexpected location of a "missing" wallet. - BGR