Just a little passport anecdote (not work connected, but I would prefer that to the ire of my father):
In the throes of an ugly divorce, my father had the brilliant idea that I should run away from my problems, I mean, take a break with him and his wife, to Naples, Florida. I would stay in the rented house with them (and my half-brother, who we were to meet at Miami Airport0, after driving across the state. He would be paying for my flight from LHR to the US. All sounded good, if not entirely a good move regarding my home life.
They lived in England at the time, and we were to meet at Heathrow at 8am on a May Sunday morning. I took a shuttle flight from Leeds the night before.
Now - the passport part.: Some months prior to this (unplanned) trip, I had reverted to my maiden name by deed poll., but had basically - apart from at work for our massive email list (US Corp) - kept using my married name. But - I had told my father that I had gone back to my maiden name, which he approved of, due to not "liking" the boring married surname.
So at 8am on the whatever it was of May 1999, we met as agreed..... he handed me my ticket - and it was in my maiden name. I had not changed my passport at that time (or anything else much).
The rules even then (pre September 11th) strict regarding name matching passport to the letter. There would be no hope -
So this is what happened:
Virgin check-in agent actually told me that if I could prove I effectively had two names, it would be possible to fly.
My important documents were in a briefcase that I had left with a friend for safekeeping, due to fear of husband nosy-parkering. But she was no answering her phone.
So I rang another friend - who was out on the yard with the horses at that time.
So I rang ANOTHER friend (well mother of...), who lived in the same village,. and she kindly went round and told my horse-friend I was trying to get hold of her.
When I did, she (also) kindly drove to the first friend's house for the briefcase. When this friend answered the door, she was very hungover and cross and just thrust the briefcase at my other friend.
Who fortunately had a fax machine (farm business), and she faxed it (yep! faxed!) it tot he Virgin desk.
And it worked! But it would never work nowadays.
My father was so angry with me. After the flight landed, we couldn't even locate half-brother, and I actually got many blisters walking round and around Miami Airport (he didn't hear the announcements for him because he had already gone to the car hire!), and I lasted one night under the roof with my father, who really did detest my presence.
It was all quite a lot easier coming back. I had changed my seat allocation (father and h-brother were staying for a drive up to Canada), and my bloody stepmother changed hers too - and we managed the whole flight back without actually speaking (and I am quite gregarious, she is even more so)! When we landed, we just wandered off in separate directions; it was very weird.
I did love Naples and the parts of Florida that I saw - but it really was a nightmare - but thank God for Virgin making it possible. I cannot imagine how my father would have held it against me forever if he had wasted money on a ticket.