When I Almost Lost 1 Month of Work (and All My Photos) in Laos

In 2007, at 25, I embarked on the remote work adventure. At that time, the term digital nomad didn't even exist yet (and neither did the iPhone, to say how much it was the dinosaur age in tech). My employer Paul, whom I had managed to convince that I could work remotely, was paying me while I was taking it easy... well, I mean, while I was working from the paradise islands of Thailand. And honestly, between work sessions at local Starbucks (the only place where wifi didn't cut out every 30 minutes), life wasn't too bad.

Except that obviously, believing everything was going smoothly, I neglected a small detail: backups. Let's be honest, at the time, backups were like meditation or eating vegetables: you knew you should do it, but frankly, it was easier to put it off. And anyway, Git, SVN? What were those things? I coded, sent files via FTP and it worked... almost often.

Finally, until the day when, in the middle of Laos, I wake up and... my computer won't start. My PC is cold. Weird. I press the button. The BIOS appears (phew!), but after that... nothing. The hard drive had decided to give up on me. Damn. That's when I realized: my last backup was more than 3 weeks old. And not only had I done good work during those 3 weeks (even got paid for it), but I also had all my travel photos on it. 4 months of photos. Gone.

I'm usually pretty zen. But there, I was in total panic. No computer repair shop in this small village in Laos, and certainly no Genius Bar hidden behind the rice paddies. I had to act fast. Solution? Take a plane to Vietnam. Why Vietnam? I have no idea, it seemed like the best option under stress.

Two days later, here I am in Hanoi, scouring the city for someone capable of saving my poor hard drive. After trying my luck at several repair shops, I land in an Apple Store. The kind of store where I expected a crowd of people... except there was no one. I talk to a technician, explaining that my hard drive had just died. Problem? It wasn't a Mac, but a good old Celeron PC (yes, Celeron). Anyway, they take my hard drive, tell me to come back tomorrow. I remember barely sleeping that night, imagining my photos lost forever. The next day, I come back, and the technician greets me with a big smile. They succeeded. Data recovered, code saved, photos intact. Miracle. The most incredible thing? They never wanted me to pay them. Not even a tip. I left there with a light heart and my wallet intact.

Since this adventure, I've learned my lesson: backup, backup of backup, and backup replicas. Oh, and guess what? The next computer I bought... a Mac, obviously. Moral of the story: we all make mistakes in our twenties, but as long as we learn from them (and have a bit of luck), it's okay. I continued my journey for another 3 months.