6/30: STOP THIEF! (Now, how do you say that in french)
At around 0330 this morning we were returning from the bathroom,
"Sherry, I think we're missing some clothes."
Sure enough, four of Jon's shirts and a pair of my shorts were taken off our clothes line. We camped in Rigney-Usse at the Municipal campground for only €6.30 a night. I know what you're thinking - What a steal!!
Yes, we were pretty pleased as this had been the best camping rate yet and helped offset the cost of the entry fees of the two chateaus we visited yesterday. It's a small campground right next to the Loire, nothing special except free hot water for the showers and at the sinks - it would do for a night. We shared the campground with a large group of junior high aged kid and later in the evening some older teenager guys pitched their tent at the other end of camp, we were in the middle. The campround is probably two football fields long - shaped the same too. Jon did the laundry early in hopes that it would dry by the time we wanted to leave. I was beat, we had ridden hard although only a short distance campared to past days in Italy and got to camp in the evening. I went to bed shortly after dinner and Jon came in sometime afterwards.
Once we did an inventory of all our clothes Jon was left with one shirt, all his shorts and pants, socks and underwear. I was only missing my cycling jersey and a pair of shorts. All the clothes that were taken were high quality, technical fabric, in other words - expensive and I haven't seen an REI or anything like it in Europe yet. There was a Footlocker in Tours and our next stop, Saumur, looked like it might have some helpful stores. Still, it sucked and left us feeling bad and taken advantage of - who steals from bicyclists anyway?! All we have is on our bikes. It's not like we can just zip off the the nearest department store to replace this stuff. Oh, and then there was the cost of buying new clothes. France is expensive the food tax alone is just under 20% so we've been choosing our pastries wisely.
About an hour later we were awoken by the sound of male voices and a flash light that beamed briefly over our campsite. Jon woke up and we both were still, trying to see (we didn't have the fly on the tent since it was hot and there was no chance of rain) or hear anything incriminating. We watched the light bob down the camp towards the entrance but it stopped and went into the campsite of the teenage guys, then turned around and went back out the entrance. The Loire is between the main road and the campsite and we saw the light walking along the road.
"I'm going out there." - J
I wasn't sure if I should stop him - it was still dark outside, I didn't speak french or know how to dial the equivalent to 911, go with him? or stay put?
As I was considering my options, Jon was out the door and down the road. I didn't have my glasses handy so I lost sight of him in the darkness pretty quickly but I watched that light across the road turn around and head back to the driveway of the campground - then it disappeared.
I couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. Then I saw Jon walking back toward the camp. He wasn't limping, clutching a possible wounded appendage or walking with any great speed.
When he got back into the tent he explained that he walked to the entrance of the campsite in time to see the light go past and on into town - must be locals and you don't have much success at chasing after a local in the dark in their own town. So we went back to bed.
Well, we managed to get back to sleep and when I got up later in the morning I was walking back from the bathroom when an official looking minivan came shooting down the road to wear the junior high kids were staying. They pointed in the opposite direction towards the entrance, the car turned around and stopped at the entrance. I walked back to the tent and told Jon that I thought that the police were here - or some security type of people. As he was quickly putting on his sandals I walked over to my bike and noticed that my toolbox had been opened and our really nice tire pump we got from Andy was missing.
"They took the tire pump too."
What was strange was that they didn't take the swiss army knife that was amongst the dishes drying right by the shirt they took and there were other items of some value that they could have taken, but didn't. Jon jogged down to the group at the entrance while I did another once over of our camp to see if anything else was missing - not that I could tell. Shortly afterwards I walked down to the entrance to join Jon. As I passed by the older teenagers camp I noticed that it looked like the place had been thoroughly picked through - things were scattered everywhere. As I came upon the group Jon told me that indeed we were not the only ones missing items. The officer was taking down a list of everyone's missing items. After looking at the other guys camp four shirts, a pair of shorts and a tire pump seemed like small potatoes but we felt violated just the same. When the police drove away the three teenage guys, Jon and I stayed to compare stories. Apparently our campmates noticed their missing items at about the same time we noticed ours and we think it's likely that they were the ones we saw earlier in the morning as they described how they walked along the river and then turned back and walked a ways into town before returning to their tent. It was at that time that one of the guys came upon the likely theives. How could tell he you ask? Because the loser was wearing his shirt and he and his accomplice had returned to the scene of the crime - for some unknown reason - and were "milling about" Jon says. Since he didn't know who he had stolen from I'm sure he thought nothing of it and proceeded to ask the teenager for a smoke. Anywho, it was at that time that Jon jumped in, "Why didn't you stop him or hold him down?" he said while miming the act of catching and holding the thief. Apparently he was a tough looking guy and the teenager was by himself at the time. Incredible, what are the odds of finding your stolen shirt on the person who stole it? Well, our statements were taken, stories exchanged all that was - BUT WAIT!
Across a field that was next to the campsite we saw the theives walk across a small bridge. One of our campmates pointed and shouted in french what I can only guess as something like "Hey there's the *&%#!-er that stole our stuff!" we all stood their for a moment watching the two guys walk across the bridge- one short and the other tall just as described by the teenager. And suddenly it was as if everyone had decided what they were going to do all at the same time. Off went one teenager followed closely by the second friend, the third one was a little hesitant but ran to catch up with his friends. Jon was trying to tighten his sandals as he had only just slipped them on when he first got out of the tent. Once they were tightened he too was off. The other guys were easily a hundred yards ahead but as anyone who played on the SCCA softball team last year knows, Jon can run fast. The two thieves didn't see us seeing them so we had the element of surprise. I say we in the general sense as Jon ran was running after the guys he called back to me, "Sherry, call the police!"
Later onthe guys would tell Jon that they thought he was calling me 'dear' as Sherry in french is a term of endearment. So then I took off to call the police to come back toward camp, a little hindered by the skirt I was wearing and lack of bra. I ran up to one of the adults with the junior high kids and asked if we would call the police.
"Again?"
"Yes! We just saw them over there" I said pointing in the direction of the field.
So the call was made and I went back to the edge of the field to flag down the police and direct them in the right direction.
Some time went by and no sign of the police, Jon, the theives or any of the teenage guys.
Maybe I should have discouraged Jon from running after them, maybe I should go over there and seewhat's going on - can't do that because the police haven't shown up yet - where the hell are the police they couldn't have gotten 3 miles away between the time they left and the time we called them back. I don't hear anything, I don't see anything. Then I saw Jon walking alone back across the field - he wasn't limping, no visible signs of bleeding or pain just casually walking toward me.
Jon was fine. Jon caught up to the teenage and got to the theives a few seconds before our campmates as he had chosen a different route to take to the theives. They stopped them right at the front door of the church and caught their attention with a "Hey. Hey."
It worked and they stopped and turned around.
By this time the teenage boys had caught up to the group - two of them along with Jon surrounded the thieves and the third went around the church in case they tried to make a run for it.
The theives stopped, and acknowledged the group. One of the teenagers start talking in french clearly indicating that he was accusing the thieves of stealing their stuff. The thieves shrugged their shoulders claiming ignorance. More french was spoken and there was gesturing toward their clothes and toward the camp. After about 20 seconds the shorter suspect decided to "take a piss" and wanted to back behind the church to do so. One of our campmates (later telling Jon) told the suspect that he was old enough to "hold it". At this point the two suspects were acting a little nervous - especially the short one. The shorter suspect, in his late teens, about 5'7-5'8 with the build of a wrestler. His accomplice was tall - about 6'0 and thin, about the same age. The suspect still wanted to go and Jon was shaking his finger going "No. No. No." The suspect continued to walk to the back of the church, Jon followed, putting himself between any means of escape and the suspect. So the guy pee -ed on the corner of the church wall. Jon found this ironic "because he stole something and was peeing on the village church". Once he was done they walked toward gourp at corner of the church together, at that time an officer came around the corner and started speaking french to the suspect the officer then asked our campmates what I can assume was for positive identification - that this was the guy that stole from them. Once there was confirmation the officer pulled out his handcuffs and had the suspect by the shoulder. The suspect almost immediately started to resist being cuffed by struggling against the two officers. The officers threw him to ground in order to restrain him and cuffed him. Once he was cuffed he was put into the police van. The officer turned to the other suspect saying something in french and the other suspect indicated agreement to go with them and was also handcuffed before entering the van.
The officers and our campmates exchanged words and left. The teenagers said that the officers told them that they would come back to camp after they had questioned the suspect. This is when Jon returned to the camp and I met him in the field.
We went back to our camp and started packing up wanting to leave as soon as possible knowing that Jon would be going to the police station. About 20 minutes later the cops showed up this time with the two suspect and someone who parental in the back seat of the minivan. They recovered some of the stolen items they stashed from the river and some or our clothes was recovered from the suspects house. They had filled one of the stolen backpacks from the teenagers with sand to act as a weight so it wouldn't go floating the river. Besides the sand there was some clothes one article was my shorts. They were sopping wet and had a couple pounds of sand on it, in it - it was covered with sand. Once we looked at everything in the backpack there were still items missing so we told the cops who turned to the kids and asked where the rest of the stuff was located. The cops told the our campmates where they had recovered the pack so we could go back and see what else might be there. Then they took the kids to the police station in Langaise which is about 11 kilometers away while Jon and the guys got on their bikes and rode to the Loire River and started looking around for our stuff. There was a huge "forest" of stinging nettles about 4.5 feet high and about an acre in size right along the bank of the river. Of course this is where another one of the backpacks was stashed. Jon and the guys were walking through the forest of nettles feeling the stinging nettles through his pants with every step. The other guys, a couple of them in shorts were right there with Jon looking for the stolen goods. Unfortunately not eveything was recovered. When Jon returned to the camp we continued packing up waiting for the police to pick up the guys to take them to the station in Langaise for an official statement. As we were packing I was thinking about taking a picture of "the victims" and looked around for our camera. I usually put it right by my pillow in the tent but it wasn't there, nor was it in any of the bike bags we keep in the tent with us at night.
"Jon, I think they got the camera too"
This didn't go over very well as we double and triple checked our campsite. Thankfully, Jon had recently uploaded our pictures to the CF card on the PDA (which was not stolen) so the only pictures we lost were the ones we had taken over the last two days. Oh, and the fact that the camera was gone sucked too.
The police came about 20 minutes later it was around 0930-1000. I stayed behind and kept watch over everyone's things. By this time we had formally introduced ourselves Theo, Felix, and Prehu. They brought all the items from their campsite to ours so I could keep an eye on their things. Felix asked Jon if "Madame Sherry" was staying behind. Can I just say that I love being called Madame Sherry, especially with someone with a french accent. The guys piled into the mini van and they off to Langaise and I stayed behind to finish packing and then wait, and wait, and wait, and wait...
Meanwhile, Jon arrives at the station. It looked like "a police station" located very near the Chateau Langaise. It was hot inside the station. Jon was called in first after a 20 minute wait. They found an interpreter to be present throughout the deposition which made the process three times as long as it would have if everyone spoke the same language. During the deposition Jon felt like he was at the Bally Kiss Angel police station. It had the same kind of atmosphere, stark but quaint and the officer looked like someone who could talk your ear off given the chance. The officers were all very helpful, very friendly, very courtueous and professional The officer taking the statement was the brother-in-law of the interpreter. About three and a half hours later they finished. Jon notes that the staff was meticulous and very thorough. While Jon was giving his deposition Felix and Prehu were giving and Theo went after Jon. Afterwards they waited in the small lobby filled with police information/leaflets. They were waiting for the parents of the the teenagers to arrive to pick them up. The officer spoke with the parents at length about the morning's events. At the same time the parents of the suspects started to arrive they exchanged glances with Jon and the guys but no words were explained. Felix's mom mentioned that it must be embarassing as a parent to have to pick your child up at the police station because he committed a crime. It was found out after talking to the officers that much more was recovered from the man's house who was in the van when the officers first dropped off some of our recovered items. In addition to most of our stuff, including our digital camera and tire pump they found expensive wine, drug paraphenilia, machine guns.
During the time at the police station the guys got to know eachother better. Jon says that they are a group of intelligent young men, happy-go-lucky - singing songs on the way back to the campground - just good people. They spoke very good english for which we are especially appreaciative. Everyone we have met in France has been genuinely good, down to earth people, making you feel at home.
Six hours later the guys returned to camp hungry and thirsty. I was nearly done with The De Vinci Code, had done some sewing, hosed down one of the sandfilled backpacks, wrote in the journal, and stared off into space.
It had been a long day for everyone. Felix's mom brought eveyone back and loaded the guys stuff into her car. The guys planned to ride back to their home in Tours -they had a ride to finish. They were very kind in offering to take us somewhere or even just for tea or coffee. Jon and I had to wait at the campsite because an officer had told Jon that they would bring our tire pump and the SD card that was missing from our camera back to us. So, after exchanging emails, shaking hands, having our picture taken by the manager of the campground, they were off.
So we waited some more. Jon said we would leave by seven o'clock - that the officer had said he would mail our items to the US embassy. As we were waiting, a frenchman leading a fully packed donkey came walking through the campground. This was his mode of travel. The donky had two large bags made out of the same material as our bike bags - including reflectors a rolled up tent on top, and shoes, a water dish and extra rope hanging off the sides. The man leading the donkey had a walking stick, straw hat, cigarette hanging out of his mouth and spoke no english although we were able to find out that he had left from Blois which is farther north on the Loire. The donkey came up the Jon and I and rubbed his soft nose against our hands and then moved on when he realized we had no food for him. What a site, was so cool to see such a mode of travel still being used. There we were bike riders, motor home drivers and a donkey owner all in one campsite!
An english man who lives in Ireland, Mike, chatted with us for a while about the bikes, politics, online dating, where to travel in america and other miscellaneous topics. It was getting close to seven and there was no sign of the police. Jon had a phone number so we would go into town and try to find a phone to call to see what was up. We also needed some more shampoo and soap so we hurried over to the general store before it closed at seven thirty. I made a beeline for the toiletries section after saying Bonjour to the clerk/owner? Of the shop who had seen my face a couple times since we arrived in town. While I was trying to figure out the french labels Jon was asking for help with finding a phone. They let them use the store's phone. Jon dialed the number and got a recording - in french. The clerk asked Jon if he needed some who spoke english. Jon said yes and a man and another women walked out of the store and brought back yet another woman who spoke very good english and called the police phone number. She spoke with an operator, explaining the situation. There was a little confusion at first in that they thought we had to give the police some items rather then the other way around. Once we clarified it was decided that everyone would meet tomorrow morning at 0800.
Oh.
We were planning on getting the heck out of dodge. We didn't feel at all comfortable staying at the campsite. The english speaking woman, understanding our feelings, offered her garden as a place to pitch our tent for the night. Jon and I exchanged looks.
"oh gosh, I don't know"
She took us across the one lane rode through town to her home. She and her husband/partner had been restoring it for four years. The place was three hundred years old and looked amazing. The walls, the ceiling. They have four cellars none of which are good for storing wine, we were told. One of the cellars had a stone oven used for baking bread, the plan is perhaps one day to put it back to use. The garden was beautiful and had many flowers in bloom. Jon liked the roof and asked about it. It was explained that it is tradition in this area to use clay tiles on the tip third of the roof and slate tiles on the bottom two thirds. We forget the rest of the details because the store clerk and the woman who helped bring us our "interpreter" were waiting to show us a room a few doors down at the town hotel which had some rooms available. We were a little worried about the price but were then told that we could stay in the room for free because they felt bad for our experience at the campsite. Can you believe it?! Their generosity was overwhelming and all we could say was merci over and over again. It turns out that the hotel is empty. There are about four rooms they rent out and an eating and entertainment area downstairs. Speaking of stairs the old wooden stairs are spiral and very very steep and very very narrow. The floors downstairs are a mosaic of colorful tiles. There are antiques on the desk: old coffee grinders, gas lamps and crockery. On the walls are mounted kitchen tools. The upstairs has been renovated to have a shower in the room there's a shared toilet and wooden floors. The walls downstairs are the exposed stone blocks of the house - nothing is covered up. The stone is an off white with slightly darker mortar. The blocks and about eighteen inches long, 10 inches high and I don't know how think but this place is solid. Our bikes are parked on the porch adjacent to the house (we would call it a carport) and we have a key to thte front door. Jon is watching the world cup on tv and we're eating the left over bread (whole wheat with walnuts) from the boulagerie across the street. This is definitely a much better way to end the day than what we had planned. We're very lucky - that's all there is to it. We have encountered nothing but kindness, patience and generosity on our trip. We've been reminded again and again how slowing down, being patient, taking time to go one step farther can make a huge impact on anyone you come in contact with.
