If Only....A Cautionary Tale...

 

He had a lovely smile. As we crammed into an overcrowded train at Havre-Courmartin on the number 9 line of the Metro on Sunday, he squeezed up off his seat and gestured to me to take it. I smiled gratefully back, and as I tried to get over to the seat, he reached out to help me, as did another young man. I sank into the seat, mouthing a big "merci". With a final smile, they got off the train at the next stop, St. Augustin.

That's when I noticed that my handbag was unzipped...

...and on further inspection, I found it was empty. My wallet had been lifted cleanly away and had left the train with the young men at St. Augustin!  And I had not been aware, or felt a thing. By some miracle, my iPhone was still in the bag. After alerting other passengers that "mon portefeuille a été volé", and urging them to "faites attention", "prenez-garde", etc. we fled the train at the next stop and ran up to the street.

"Oh, merde", said the taxi driver, as he whisked us back to the flat to begin the arduous task of cancelling bank cards, etc. "Merde", indeed! Just trying to remember what was in the wallet was the first challenge. Debit cards, both US and French, credit cards, California Driver's License, Medicare card, Social Security card, health insurance card, various "cartes de fidélités", photos of the grandchildren, a substantial amount of cash, etc. But, worst of all, my treasured "Titre de Séjour", a French residency card that allows me to stay in the country for as long as I choose. Gone!

We cancelled what we could, via internet and phone. Even so, within 45 minutes of the heist, the thieves had managed to charge up to 150 euros-worth on my US debit card and French Carte Bleue at a café, a restaurant and a tabac in the general area of where they got off the train.

Now begins the deep dive into French bureaucracy as we attempt to replace my Titre de Séjour. First off, you must report the theft to the police. 

It took us a couple of misfires to understand the difference between the Préfecture de Police and the Commissariat de Police. The former, above, where we went first, is only for administering and issuing permits.

What we needed was a Commissariat de Police, which we found in the 5th arrondissement. The guard at the gate, bristling with weaponry, directed us to the correct door to report infractions.

Inside, we explained our situation, and took a seat in the waiting room, where a tv on the wall cycled through endless ways criminals prey on the innocent, and what steps you, the victim, can take.

Eventually we were called into a small office, where I made my declaration to the Police Chief. He recorded it all on his computer, nodding his head knowingly at my misfortune. He must take dozens of these reports every day. He gave us a copy of the official document, with the official stamp, and told us to make an appointment at the Préfecture de Police to begin the process to replace the stolen residency card.

So, that will be the next hurdle. Ever since this happened, the "what ifs" have been flooding my mind: What if it hadn't been raining? We would have walked ten minutes and taken a bus. What if we'd waited for the next train, hoping it would be less crowded? What if I'd kept only a minimum of stuff in my wallet? What if I'd switched to Apple Pay, in which case I could have left my wallet at home!

Anyway, it happened, and it is what it is. I was not physically harmed, everything will eventually get replaced, But travelers, beware! Keep your sharpest attennae out when on public transportation. Wear your bag under your coat, etc.

After a nice lunch, we walked back to Place St. Michel to catch a bus home, passing this appropriate sign along the way...

...also getting a superb view of the biggest crane I've ever seen transferring a huge metal triangle over to some workers on the ridge of the main body of Nôtre Dame. The bulk of the cathedral is still encased in endless metal scaffolding...

...but, as of a week ago, the spire has been unveiled, featuring a golden rooster perched on top of the golden cross.

À Bientôt!