I’m Sorry Rick Steves

On the train back to Lille I became a statistic. We took the train from Amsterdam to Antwerp where we switched trains to head back to France. When we got on the train I threw my backpack in the compartment overhead and plopped in my seat. It was a full car with a loud child right behind us so I put in my ear phones and closed my eyes while Randy started to read his book. We had gone through a few stops when I looked up at our bags and saw everything was still there. I tried to relax and get comfortable as we head on but the car got louder with talking and the child started crying so I turned up my music and continued to find a comfortable spot in my chair. Eventually Randy put his arm around me and I leaned into him, resting my head on his chest and I closed my eyes. On the next stop before Lille most people got off and the once full car was almost empty. The train conductor woman came to ask us if our destination was Lille, because if it was, we need to move to the first three cars. So we got up and as I’m putting on my coat Randy says “Where’s your bag?” I’m thinking ‘what do you mean’ because I know it’s up there, but as I look at our bags and see the empty space between his backpack and our food bag, where my backpack used to be, I panic. “Oh my gosh, where’s my bag?!?” “Oh my gosh, my passport was in my bag!”

First we went through denial. It must have been taken by mistake, someone thought it was theirs and grabbed it. Maybe they left it in lost and found. Then I asked the woman what the odds were that I would see my bag again and she said this happens often and I would have to file a police report when we arrived in Lille. I was so mad at myself because I had been wearing my stupid money belt during our entire trip, and that day I didn’t even think to put it on. I saw it several times in my bag pack but no red flags went up.  Rick Steves would be so disappointed in me.

I have a lot of mixed feelings on the issue. On the one hand Randy and I are both very grateful that it was my bag and not his, which has much more valuable things in it. And I know that everything in that bag is easily replaceable, but we didn’t need the extra financial burden to replace those things. Not only do I have to replace my driver license and ATM card but I have to replace my passport at full cost after I just got it in August.  I had just bought new shower stuff too, two days before Amsterdam, which I now have to buy again. Not to mention the stuff I had brought with me that was supposed to last for the whole trip which I will have to repurchase as well. The blowdryer I bought for the trip is gone and now I will have to wait for my hair to air dry before going out in the cold weather. My favorite pj bottoms and the only sweater shirt I brought are now gone. On top of that, the only charger to my mp3 player is gone as well, so no more music or language learning guides. The backpack itself was a commodity since luggage space is very limited on this trip. On the upside, I hated the pair of jeans they took and was planning to burn them as soon as we were ready to come home. So although I am down one precious pair of jeans, I couldn’t be happier to be rid of them. 

I thought I was coming to terms with everything until I discovered a couple days later that my new blackberry was in the bag as well. Like lemon juice to a paper cut, it stung. As I said, it’s all insignificant things that can be replaced and I’m grateful it wasn’t a worse situation but I can’t help but be a little angry still. But they say time heals all wounds, and as each day goes by I think about it less and less.

We went to the embassy in Belgium and got an emergency passport. We filed a police report but basically it’s just to say that my passport was stolen. I wasn’t asked for any description of the bag to try to recover my stolen property. If any bag is found with some sort of identification saying it belongs to a U.S. citizen it will be sent to the embassy and be taken care of from there. So, the chances of ever seeing my belongings again are slim to none. I hate petty thieves.