That Time I Got Pick-Pocketed in London

A couple of Sundays ago, I took my first trip out of the house all year to see Ronan Keating and a symphony orchestra live in London... only to get pick-pocketed minutes after we got off the bus in Victoria.

I swear, I either have the worst luck, or I did something terrible in a former life. Something always goes wrong when I travel to concerts.

It's been going around and around in my head since it happened- mostly what I should've done differently- so I'm hoping writing about it and getting my thoughts out will help me make sense of it, and let it go. Writing has always helped me clear my head, but feel free to roll your eyes if you think I'm overreacting.

So... just after arriving in London on Mother's Day, we went into Victoria station to grab some food before heading to the Royal Albert Hall for the concert we'd travelled to see. Seconds after we went inside, we were walking slowly up half a dozen stairs (slowed down by Arthritis), when someone pressed up close behind me. I thought they were trying to hurry us up, so I tried to ignore them instead of letting them intimidate me (or elbowing them in the face), but something about it felt off, so I thought to check my bag as soon as I was off the stairs- only to find my backpack was unzipped, and my purse had gone. They'd seen us moving slowly, and they'd marked us as easy targets. 

It was all over in a matter of seconds, and happened so fast, I didn't even get a look at them as they hurried away. My sister got a glimpse, but I was too busy checking my bag.                                             

Luckily, they only took my purse and I didn't even have any cash on me. My phone was in my hand, and they didn't take my camera or concert tickets which had my personal details on them, so it could've been worse. They could've taken my whole bag, and I could've had my NI card on me, but didn't. Thanks to my sister, I was able to cancel my bank card in minutes before they even got a chance to use it, so my only real loss was my lovely Vendula London flower shop purse. (I'm gutted- it isn't made any more).

I'm mostly just annoyed at myself for being stupid enough to take a backpack to London, because I never, ever do for this very reason. I've always taken a cross-body I can keep a hand on, but this time, I was careless as I wanted to ease the strain on my neck and shoulder, which were hurting like hell. I even contemplated the risk before I left home, so I feel like such an idiot. 

With all the stabbings in London lately, I'm just grateful I wasn't hurt- they didn't so much as touch me- and I wasn't alone so I didn't end up stranded without any money or a bus ticket home. All I could do was Paypal my sister money for things, so it left me feeling pretty vulnerable. I think it's time to set up some kind of payment on my phone (which the policeman also recommended), and go back to putting £20 in my shoe when I travel, so I'm not so helpless if I lose my wallet again. It was a wake up call.

I wasn't the only one it happened to, either; when we were talking to the police, there were two other girls who had just been targeted in another station, probably by the same men. I felt worse for them, because they were tourists, and it's a shitty thing to happen miles from home. The police and the security guard were all really kind and sympathetic, though, which made a big difference. They took it seriously, and didn't lay any blame on our actions, or make us feel like we were wasting their time. They just shared some insights about pick-pocketers and suggested some tips- like wearing a cross-body bag beneath a jacket or cardi so it's harder for thieves to cut a bag right from your body, and to set up Apple Pay on your phone to have money to fall back on.

I didn't really care about finding my purse- that was already long gone, but we got the police involved to hopefully stop it from happening to other people. I hope they were able to find them, but if not, I hope karma comes back to bite them where it hurts. I'd wish them a life time of chronic pain, but that seems a little bit mean. Maybe they were professional pick-pocketers, or maybe they were just desperate. Who knows?

I didn't let two assholes ruin my night, though, and tried not to let it phase me. I didn't panic, and only realised it affected me at all when the nerves in my legs started twitching when I sat down afterwards. (It's only now it's over that it's bothering me a little bit, and creeping in to my head at random times). We still had a great night, and miraculously, we had the same bus driver on the way home to Oxford, who remembered us, and didn't make me pay for another ticket home, so... silver linings. 

If you take anything from this story, I hope it makes you think about your safety when you travel and you learn from my mistakes. Don't take a backpack to London or any other big city; keep your bag where you can see it; don't keep all your money in one place when you travel; and if someone invades your space, don't just ignore it to be the bigger person. It might not be safe to confront them, but at least turn to acknowledge you know they're there to discourage them, and try to move away from them if you can.

It might make a difference.

Have you ever been pick-pocketed on your travels?