Melo Villareal
Story Time: How I got robbed in Paris
Two years ago, I found myself in a distressing situation when I lost my travel wallet in Madrid. Inside that wallet, I had my passport, cash, and various crucial travel documents, all essential for my journey. The immediate loss of my money was not the only setback; I also faced the daunting task of obtaining a police report and securing new travel documents from the Philippine Embassy in Madrid.
Pickpocket in Paris
This experience turned out to be not just an emotional upheaval but also a costly one, as I had to part with a significant amount of money. To add to the frustration, I spent an entire day navigating the city, running from one office to another, trying to resolve the chaos that had ensued. Reflecting on it now, I realize that this ordeal could have been managed in a much more pleasant and efficient manner.
During my most recent visit to Paris, I found myself immersed in a tale far more shocking than the romantic vistas and charming cafes. It was a gripping narrative of betrayal, as I became an unwitting victim of a brazen pickpocket, right before my very eyes. The entire incident unfolded in a heartbeat, a blur of movement that left me reeling and completely unaware of my impending misfortune. One moment, I was savoring the vibrant atmosphere, and the next, I was grappling with the realization that I had been deftly robbed amidst the bustling crowd.
This was how it all happened…
We arrived at the iconic Place de la Concorde, our designated meeting point for the city tour, at around 8:00 am. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the sprawling square, adorned with its magnificent fountains and the towering obelisk. We waited expectantly, glancing at our watches as the minutes ticked by, but our tour guide was still nowhere to be found. As boredom began to settle in, we decided to explore the other side of the square, hoping to find some distraction.
While we stood by the bustling street, awaiting the green light to cross, a group of about nine or ten young gypsies approached us. They wore colorful clothes, and their lively demeanor caught our attention. With smiles on their faces, they asked if we spoke English and if we could assist them in signing a petition paper. Their request seemed innocent enough, but the atmosphere became charged with uncertainty as we exchanged glances, weighing our options in the bustling square filled with tourists and locals alike.
Despite prior warnings from fellow Filipinos living in Paris about the deceptive tactics employed by Romanian gypsies, the situation unfolded so rapidly that we found ourselves unprepared to outsmart them.
As I stood near the lively square, a group of about four teenagers approached me with an air of familiarity that made me uneasy. One of them, a girl with tousled hair and piercing blue eyes, thrust a petition paper toward me, urging me to sign it for what she claimed was a worthy cause. Simultaneously, another girl, with a mischievous smile and blonde hair, leaned in and asked if we could share a kiss. The request struck me as bizarre and completely inappropriate, especially coming from a complete stranger. I shook my head, murmuring a polite refusal as I glanced around, my heart racing.
I noticed my friends on the periphery—two of them were visibly anxious, glancing around as if searching for an escape route. Their wide eyes conveyed alarm, mirroring the unease bubbling within me. After I gently turned the girl down, she merely shrugged and sauntered off with her companions, their laughter ringing out as they melted back into the crowd. The entire encounter left a lingering sense of discomfort that shadowed our morning in the City of Light.
A Romanian “Roma” woman asks this man to sign a petition while an accomplice picks a photo from the Daily Mail.
Yen, one of my travel buddies, suggested we check our bags as we prepared to leave the area. It was in that moment of distraction that I suddenly realized one of the “Roma Gypsies” had stealthily unzipped my sling bag. My heart raced as I discovered that my wallet was missing. I instinctively screamed for help, and in a split second, the group of teenagers, agile and quick, darted away. They moved with surprising speed, even the girls effortlessly leaping over the nearby fence without a moment’s hesitation.
From a distance, I caught a glimpse of one of the boys rifling through my wallet, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he pulled out the cash. To my dismay, I watched him collect the 900 Euros I had saved up for our trip before nonchalantly tossing the empty wallet onto the ground. Panic surged through me, but I quickly rushed over and snatched it up. Fortunately, upon inspecting its contents, I realized they had left all my ATM cards intact. A wave of relief washed over me as I remembered that I had safely stowed my passport in a different pocket, ensuring my travel plans were still secure.
Though I was disheartened about losing my hard-earned money and the fact that those quick-witted gypsies had pulled a fast one on me, there was a flicker of relief knowing this incident didn’t mirror my previous harrowing experience in Madrid. At least this time, I wouldn’t have to scramble to the embassy to obtain another travel document. After some contemplation, I resolved that the most sensible course of action was to file a report at the Paris police station, so I set off towards the station situated along the iconic Avenue des Champs-Élysées.
As I walked along the bustling avenue, lined with chic shops and lively cafes, a myriad of thoughts raced through my mind. I couldn’t help but ponder why these seemingly bright and promising young individuals had chosen such a risky and dishonest path. Were they driven by desperation, or was it the thrill of conning unsuspecting tourists? It baffled me how they managed to outsmart me despite my years of traveling and navigating foreign cities. Just as the familiar sights of Paris brought comfort, the harsh reality struck me: no matter how seasoned a traveler you are, unfortunate events can strike at any moment, catching you off guard when you least expect it.
How to Avoid Paris Scams Gypsies
- Always put your bag in front
- Don’t put your cash in just one wallet. It is always best to leave some in the hotel for safety, or to distribute your cash across different pockets.
- If someone asks for directions, just say, “I don’t know.”
- Most of these Gypsies will approach you by asking, “Do you speak English?”
- If anyone approaches you and says they have found a valuable ring and asks if it’s yours, it’s a big old scam.
- Avoid the street flower peddlers who will offer you free roses for your loved ones
- Avoid Gypsies asking for your petition signature
- Bring a whistle and use it if you feel threatened
- Shout “Police” when needed
- If you are traveling alone and visiting a crowded area, stay close to the nearest police station.
Do you have any other tips on avoiding getting scammed in Paris? Share your thoughts below.
Paris Travel Tour Packages You Should Try
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