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Rita. M, of West Lynn, OR tells a tale that far too often befalls many while visiting Paris, however, the ending of her story is truly one of a kind and unbelievable! — Annette
Passports and Paris...A Miracle.
Submitted by Rita M., West Lynn, OR.It was June, 2001. I was about to embark on a trip with my two daughters that I had thought about for years. Their Dad and I had met in an overseas program from our college, many years ago and always planned to take them "home" to visit. He and I had traveled a number of times, back to Europe because we both loved it so much. After his death, I knew that there was no question that our daughters and I had to visit. And it was about to happen!!
We boarded the plane heading for Paris, from there we would travel by train to specific cities that I had chosen. My travel agent had done a very good job arranging all of this for us and we were ready for two marvelous weeks.
As we left the United Airlines terminal at Charles de Gaulle Airport, we decided to board a shuttle bus taking us to the Paris Underground train, which would take us into the city. We boarded the bus at the middle door. There were only a few passengers. One man pushed past me, pointing to the luggage rack and directing me to put my luggage..."la." He then got off of the bus through the back door. Within minutes, as usual, I was counting bags, kids, checking my purse. It felt light Could it be? The pouch I had inside my purse, holding passports, rail passes, hotel vouchers was gone! At least I had my cash and credit cards in a different place.
I looked at my teenaged daughters, they could see that I was near panic. I stood up, looked on the floor, checked my purse again, and looked at the men sitting behind me, at the top of their bags at their feet....nothing. I believe my thief was the man who pushed past me and got off the bus while we were still at the terminal.
We decided to ride the shuttle back to the terminal. When we got off I "parked" my girls and bags in a very open spot and began the "curb and shrub" march, searching to no avail. My daughter said "let's go to the Lost and Found". We did. Of course, nothing. I took the business card from the counter so I could call the next day. We re-boarded the shuttle bus and made our way to our hotel.
The woman greeting us from behind the counter was young, very sweet and I will say thankfully, she spoke English very well. She said we must make a police report. She called the police department and let them know what had happened and that we were on our way. With directions in hand, we began the trek to the police station. We found ourselves very near the station. In my very limited French I asked a gentleman which way the police station was. We were on the correct street, but were very tired. Every step counted. He wasn't sure. We went left. As I realized it was the wrong direction, so did he. He called out and pointed the other direction.
Have you ever tried to enter a police station in Paris? This was a little different from anything I had done in a foreign city before. A policeman in the "patrol" car in front of this door rang the bell for us, gained entrance and walked us to the correct staircase.
Of course in the meantime, I'm worried that my children are wishing to be anywhere but Paris, France. That maybe my great idea of showing them my favorite cities in central Europe was not so great...maybe they would never love this beautiful continent the way I do...Oh Mon Dieu!! I'm not sure which daughter finally said it, but they both were obviously thinking the same thing. "What did you mean Mom? Parisians are not snippy or rude to each other or us. I love Paris. What nice people there are here. Did you see those BIG doors at the police station? Everything is so.....beautiful."
Well, if I had ever had any doubt about my Guardian Angel, it was eliminated then. And further proof in my mind, was when we went to the American Consulate the next morning. We had filled out all of the necessary paperwork, were ready to have new passports issued, and finally see the other sights of Paris, when the woman at the counter said, "I am putting you in contact with the U.A. desk at the airport. A pouch with your things was found yesterday." Did I hear correctly?
An Air France employee had found my pouch in one of the Air France terminals the day before. The time she noted was about an hour after I noticed the pouch missing. We boarded the airport bus. When we arrived at the United Airlines terminal, I looked into my pouch. It was all there. The passports and everything else. Unbelievable. Never had I had anything stolen in my travels. I certainly never dreamed that once passports were missing, would a person ever be able to retrieve them. But we did.
We finished our vacation. It was marvelous. My city, Salzburg was just the way I wanted my daughters to see it. We ate scrumptious food. We were able to see a former professor of their Dad's and mine, hear a beautiful concert, as well as see some of the places that are now a part of my little family's history.
All told, excluding the "troubles" of Paris, it was what I had hoped. I was able to share and enjoy such beauty, history, music, and fun with my kids. They now know Paris from a different angle than most and we came home really wishing that the vacation could last for much longer!
According to a recent US Today article, thefts of this sort in Paris are much more common this summer than the past few years. It is never fun to have a vacation interrupted. Keeping passports and money separate seem to have been helpful in my case. But for the rest of the trip, you can believe that our travel documents were kept much closer to my body.
Specials!
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