Dodgy wi fi yesterday. Half my post never saved.
To continue our story of woe:
On entering the police station at 78 rue Bonaparte, we were confronted by several sullen faces. No, not felons, the uniformed police. Presentation of our note written in French by the hotel manager changed nothing. Did we receive an iota of sympathy for our plight? No. Did the merest whisper of concern escape any of those pursed lips? No. We were told to wait "for a few minutes".
MUCH later someone took our details and printed out a paper. We had to wait further.
Many police passed by us, with not one of them making eye contact.
FINALLY a female police officer emerged from a side office with a man, had him sign multiple copies of what I assume was his statement, and he left. Her voice then became hostile as I guess she was told about us. She disappeared for about 10 minutes then beckoned us into the side office. It was barely big enough for the three chairs and desk.
I noticed her arm patch was different from her colleagues who had so studiously ignored us. Maybe it said she had done better at school in English? She took Rob's statement, making her famous statement, "Paris has many, many pickpockets.". He had to sign four copies, was given one, and we were free to go. 90 minutes it took all up. It wasn't an overwhelming experience, just cold and unfriendly.
At just before midnight, our room phone rang. Struggling out to answer it, I found it was some idiot in another room who had misdialled Reception to request a 5:30 wake up call.
Robert sighed when I told him, "That's about right to finish our day!"
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