Once again, I checked the bag to confirm it had our
passports, credit cards and cash. It was a small anti-theft nylon bag, no
bigger than my hand, that barely managed to hold all these things entrusted to
it. I then slipped its strap cross body over my bra and stuffed the pouch
inside my trousers, before wearing my shirt on top. For my other belongings
like the inhalers and hair brush etc, I wore an outer cross-body bag over my
shirt. It was quite a chore, and it had to be repeated daily.
Walking with the nylon bag tucked inside my trousers, which
had a lot already tucked inside them, was uncomfortable, to say the
least.
And when I needed to buy something, it was another story. I
certainly didn't look very dignified lifting my shirt, digging into my trousers
and then struggling to pull out cash or a card from the depths. And then
carrying out the process in reverse to put the money back!
It was no wonder I used to fling the bag in the hotel room
at the end of each day. It was such a relief to get it off me, that anti-theft
Auntie.
The reason for all this was simple. We were travelling in
Europe. I had been robbed of all my cash and cards the last time I was here
alone and did not want to go through that hell again. No way. And if that meant
I had to wear a nylon anti-theft bag across my body and into my trousers in the
heat of summer, so be it.
The first phase of our month-long trip was over. Today, was
a busy day. We were travelling from Malaga to Tirano to start the second phase-
scenic train journeys across Switzerland. Malaga to Milan by air, and Milan to
Tirano by an inter-city train.
As much as I love train journeys, trains give me anxiety. I
find platforms confusing. I find finding seats nerve wracking. I find luggage
storage stressful. So, when a woman stopped by and offered to help me put our
luggage in the storage above the seats in the train in Milan, I was relieved.
She called out to a couple of other friends and they all lifted one bag and
tried to put it in the storage compartment. But what a clumsy lot they were.
The luggage kept slipping from their hands and I ended up holding it up most of
the time. Wait, one of them was pregnant- heavily pregnant! Why was she helping
me pick up a bag?
That's when I felt it- a hand tapping on my waist. The
moment I realized what that hand was up to and uttered my discovery to Aloka,
my luggage was magically back down on the floor and the helpful ladies nowhere
to be found. All the zips of the outer bag were undone, obviously by the woman
standing closest to me. She had made full use of my extended arms and
distracted head to go through everything in the outer bag. Fortunately, there
was nothing of value in it. Everything of value was safely tucked away inside
the inner bag in the depths of my trousers.
When we finally reached our hotel in Tirano, I took off the
anti-theft bag, folded its strap and placed it gently on my bed-side table.
Good night sweetie, I whispered.
