I have a routine drill when it comes to flying and number one is to know where to find the passport. It now has its very own drawer, along with the travel plugs - something I introduced after a hair-raising day of panic searching for my passport before we left on a family holiday.
Prayers and promises of cash to St Anthony worked a treat and he came up trumps as he always did for my late mum, a Cork woman with a fondness for lighting candles to the Portuguese Franciscan in St Teresa's Church on Clarendon Street before coffee in Bewley's.
The missing passport emerged in the second inside pocket of a handbag. I always loved the old green passport covers which we so proudly produced on our travels - a badge of honour - but now they are wine. So I've covered mine in a scarlet leather cover so I can spot it everywhere. Especially in handbags.