I want to tell you about an afternoon in Paris that was one of the most stressful I have had on any trip. It ended well. That is Paris for you.
The morning was Père Lachaise Cemetery. If you have never been, go. It is nothing like you expect. It is beautiful, almost park-like, completely mapped and entirely worth the time. Dan, Jake, Tim, and Zach ended up with an impromptu guide, a man who appeared around every corner with more information, hopped over gravestones, disappeared when thanked, and reappeared with something new. Dan says he tipped him and would love to encounter him again. He is not sure the man was entirely real.
I did not make it to Père Lachaise that day. I got to have a brand new Paris experience I had never had before. I got to visit a gendarmerie, file a police report, and learn more than I ever expected to know about the American District near the Champs-Elysées.
What Happened on the Metro
We were on the train heading toward the cemetery. There was a kerfuffle, which is the word I am using because it covers both the distraction technique and the chaos it created. In the middle of it, Amanda got pushed off the train as the doors closed. She was waving at us through the window as we pulled away.
Amanda is completely capable. She knew what to do. She got on the next train, we got off at the next stop, she got off at the next stop, we got back on together. Stressful, resolved, moving on.
What we did not figure out until we were almost at our stop was that my mom did not have her phone.
My Mom’s Phone Wallet
My mom carries a phone wallet. It is handy for her. Everything in one place, the way she has always organized her life. She is not the generation that grew up with a phone in one hand and a crossbody bag in the other. It contained all of her treasures that govern her day to day life. Her driver’s license, her military ID, her VA medical card, her national parks access card, every credit card she carried. Her passport was not in there. It was in a separate pouch inside her purse, which they did not take. The phone wallet got stolen. The purse did not.
She was fortunate in exactly that one specific way, and she knew it.
Handling the Fallout
We had not yet put all the pieces together. We thought maybe she had dropped it. Gabby came with us to help navigate while we went to look. We took an Uber to the train station, which turned out to be its own small adventure because Gabby gets carsick, and Paris cobblestones in the back of a car are not her best mode of travel. We had the driver pull over and walked the rest of the way. We left Gabby at the station to catch the train back and rejoin the group. My mom and I headed to the hotel.
She had her iPad. My thought was Find My. What we found instead, as soon as we opened it, was a stream of bank alerts coming through in real time. Did you make this purchase. Did you make this purchase. Did you make this purchase. The cards were already being used.
We spent the next couple of hours on the phone canceling everything. I could find the international bank numbers on my phone. This is exactly the situation that piece of paper in your suitcase is meant for, the one with the numbers written on it separate from your wallet and your phone. We did not have that. I had my phone, and that was what saved us.
The one thing I could not resolve was the airline app. Her tickets were in there. I did not know what they could do with access to it and I probably could not have stopped it anyway, but I did not want to find out. It sat in the back of my mind for the rest of the afternoon. As far as we know, nothing came of it.
I cannot recommend strongly enough: go into your phone settings and prevent the Control Center from being accessed when your phone is locked. On an iPhone this is under Settings, then Face ID and Passcode. It does not prevent your phone from being stolen, but it takes away their fastest move. They cannot swipe up and turn on Airplane Mode, which is what disables Find My immediately. It makes their life a little more complicated. That is the best you can do from here.
The Concierge
Our concierge was the most helpful person in the entire process. More helpful than the bank calls, more helpful than the police report that followed. He had clearly navigated this before, and he was indignant in the way that someone is when something is happening to a place they love. These visitors came here, he was saying without saying it, and we want them here, and this is what they got. He told us exactly what to do and in what order, and the first thing he said was that we had to file a report.
I will be honest: my first instinct was that a pickpocket report on the Paris metro was not going anywhere. He understood that instinct and addressed it directly. They will never do anything if we do not continue to report it. He was not promising results. He was explaining why the act of reporting matters beyond the individual case.
So we went.
One thing I was not prepared for: the gendarmerie in the American District had very little English. I would have expected more, given the volume of American tourists who pass through that neighborhood. They managed, and we managed, but Google Translate earned its keep that afternoon. If you find yourself in a similar situation, have it ready.
The officers were kind. They took the report. They noted the metro line, the location, the description of the commotion. They did what they could, which was document it and send us on our way with a copy. The concierge felt they should have done more when we got back and told him. He was probably right.
What Came After
The contents of a phone wallet, for someone who has built her documentation over a lifetime, are not quickly replaced. The driver’s license, the military ID, the VA medical card, the national parks access card that a disabled veteran receives for free entry to every national park in the country. Each one has its own process, its own office, its own paperwork, sometimes requiring documents that are not sitting in a drawer ready to go. None of it was insurmountable. All of it required her attention as soon as she got home.
The thing I kept coming back to all afternoon was that her passport was in her purse. She could get home. I had a copy of it on my phone as well, in case we had needed to go to the Embassy. We did not need it. But I had it.
What I Would Tell You
That was a well-executed crime against a prepared person who, in that particular moment, had not recombobulated herself. Several days into a trip, once the rhythm is yours and the city feels familiar, it is easy to relax in ways that are not entirely strategic. Complacency is hard to guard against for everyone. The pickpockets know this. They are patient. They wait for exactly that shift.
A few things that would have made the afternoon shorter:
Bank phone numbers written on paper in the suitcase, separate from the wallet and the phone.
Her passport in the hotel safe rather than in her purse. They did not take the purse. But they could have.
If you are traveling as a couple, check whether you and your partner are carrying cards that share the same account number. Many card companies now issue separate numbers for each cardholder on the same account. If yours do, you can cancel one card without affecting the other. If they do not, and one person’s wallet goes, the other person’s card may go with it. Her sister was with us and does not share accounts with her. That is what covered the rest of the week.
The full practical guide to what to do when something goes wrong is in When Something Goes Wrong Abroad. The habits worth building before you go are in Petitions, Protests, and Pickpockets: Paris Safety and Keep Your Hands on Your Bag: Staying Safe in Europe.
The afternoon was hard. That same day ended up being one of the best evenings of the entire trip. The Soufflé Story.