I just got off the train from Brussels to Paris and I left the train with an interesting story that I thought I would share. I got on the train at 11 this morning, put my big bag on a luggage shelf and I put my coat and back pack in the overhead bin. I cranked up the ipod and settled in for an uneventful journey.
An hour later, I decided to stretch my legs. I got up and looked around. My back pack was gone. Coat (with cell phone and wallet) was still there. I went to check on my big bag. No problem, still there, so off I went to find the conductor. I didn’t find him, but in the next carriage, there was my bag. Zippers undone, someone had obviously stolen it, opened it and tried to get to the valuables inside.
Now, I’ve been travelling for about three weeks and to be honest, doing laundry hasn’t been high on my list of priorities and I need a place to keep smelly socks and sweaty tee shirts. The back pack seemed a logical choice. Apparently, even the most desperate train robber doesn’t feel the need to steal used underwear.
Interestingly, there were a dozen policemen waiting in Paris, stopping anyone remotely swarthy. I guess I wasn’t the only victim of the underwear bandit