La Rue Vibre !

Dear reader, reassure yourself, you won’t read another closed room mystery here.

Here is the story of the travel-loving purse.
A few days ago we took the underground to go to the bus station, aiming for Bogota. It is late (7 p.m), we are exiting the most gringo-district (El Poblado). Of course we are entangled in our rains clothes (huge rain shower) and our big backpacks (nammed Mochi and Chilla btw). The train is over crowed and we have to let one pass before we are just pushed in by a guy dressed like an ordinary worker going home. After all we live in Paris, therefore I tell Romane to watch her pockets. Mines are zipped. One station passes, I fell a tickle, and, as I put my hand in my pocket, the ordinary worker gets out in a hurry, just before the doors close. I realise then that he has my purse, but how to open the doors? The metro smoothly moves and go to the next station, away from my purse !
Ferpect?
We get out at the next station and inform the police. As we return to the crime-scene, we are welcomed by the chief of the station. His team has already begun to look for the wallet, as often the pickpockets get rid of the empty wallets quickly. We tell the story as we can with our bad spanish, and I begn to search a garbage collector pretty hopelessly. Suddently, less than 10 minutes after the theft, a police man comes back with my purse.

As we do the declaration, and I have to report what is missing, they are all very surprised to discover that my wallet is intact! Nothing is missing, as nothing inside is really valuable for another than me. Rubbish and papers, really precious to me as they come from my country.
No Christmas present for the thieff!

Moral: let’s us our chest pockets, and hurrah to Medellin Police!