I think this would be a very scary situation for anybody. But I have no immediate plans to visit any foreign country anywhere, so I don't think this will be a problem for me. It would be scary enough to get stranded in your own homeland without cash on hand or a phone.

In today's age of cell phones and atm cards, it's kind of hard to imagine being stranded in a foreign land with no phone or cash. But it can be done. A couple years ago I was traveling in Caribbean country that will go unnamed. This country is unique in that they are sworn enemies of the US and do not accept US bank cards or credit cards. I knew going in that I would need to bring a lot of cash, because if you run out you're screwed. So anyway, I had a fantastic week cruising around this bizarre and isolated country. I was traveling with a bunch of Spaniards who had decided to stay a couple of more days and cruise to the other side of the island. I budgeted my money precisely. When they dropped me off at the airport about an hour before my flight (yes, cutting it close). I'm down to my last $20, which was for the airport tax and required to exit the country. I walk into the terminal and look for my airline. It turns out it's not there, as I'm at the wrong airport. The correct airport is 8 miles away. My friends are long gone, and are unreachable as none of our cell phones worked in this country. I know no one. So what did I do? I go out to the highway on foot, dragging my bag, and start sprinting. A 6'4', sunburned gringo sprinting down a hostile country's highway dragging a suitcase. I'm doing the math in my head, and know the fastest I can possibly run 8 miles is in about 50-55 minutes, which would get me to my gate five minutes before my flight left. It's also about 130 degrees. After sprinting for about 15 minutes in the heat and dust, I'm absolutely dying... and really thought I had finally run out of luck. There was absolutely nothing I could do - no way to have friends send money, no way to make a phone call, no way to contact my travelling buddies. I had visions of me getting a job teaching basketball until I had saved up enough money to fly out. Just when all seemed lost, an 18 wheeler pulled over and picked me up. The guy drove me to the terminal, and I made my flight with 10 minutes to spare. All I could do out of gratitude was give him a couple of tapes that i had in my bag. It was a crazy situation that almost ended badly.

Warning you - I'm house sitting in Pac Heights with nothing here but pets and wine, and I'm in a story-telling kind of mood....So it's Memorial Day Weekend 2005, and I'm not really in a foreign land, been to San Diego a bunch, but my buddy's in a new house and I was not too aware of my surroundings. In addition I was 10 mojito's deep...at any rate, we do our thing, hit up the Del Mar plaza, En Fuego's, Jimmy O's, back to the plaza. At some point down the line these 3 girls tag along, one girl being especially puppy-doggish with me. Bryan says bro, I train 2 of those girls, I know that the one who likes you is Tony Hawk's ex wife, she said she wants to take you home. I'm like cool, I'm kind of hammered. She takes me to some party in Carmel something, then heads out probably 2ish. On the way home she pulls this wo is me song and dance about skateboarding and fame and it all crashes and ends in divorce...so much so I'm oddly turned off and just want bed. I tell her to turn around, to the exit where El Camino Real meets Del Mar Heights Rd. I find what I think is his complex but not sure, and then I see a black Audi A4. I'm like sweet, night, kiss and bye. I go up to the house...it's locked. Wrong house. Crap, I left my phone in Bryan's car. Spent all my cash. Totally residential area with no gas station or anything for at least a few miles. What do I do? Crash in somebody's lawn, of course. At some point during the night cops are called. What do I do? Spring into the woods of course. Out ran those mo-fo's. Granted, I don't think they put up much fight at 4am, they just wanted me off that lady's lawn. At this point I try and sleep in the trees, but I'm wet and flithy, uncomfortable and can't really sleep. Now what? It's getting light, I start looking for Bryan's house. You'd think people would be more receptive to a drunk in a dirty pink shirt at 5am, but they are not. I wind up walking down the road, eating at Denny's, and calling the one phone number I remember - my phone - and luckily Bryan picks up. If I had to, Kinko's opened at 8 and I would have hopped on IM and hoped somebody had Bryan's #, but chances were slim...Bryan's one of those cats you were friends with way before the days of IM, and most of the IM buddies are from college or post college. At any rate I'm still alive, end of story!