Chapter 4 - Northern Europe - lost

A real downer of a day. It started just after lunch. We were at a pub drinking blond pils, which tastes just like lager. But anyway, part way into our second glass we were asked to move into another room to make room for the lunchtime rush. We did, then had something to eat, different kinds of ‘wurst’ sausages, and some sauerkraut. I love all the different sausages you can get in Germany - some of them are peppery and some quite bland but they are all delicious, and they go so well with the vinegary sauerkraut. While I was eating I was thinking about how Captain Cook was the first person to solve the scurvy issue by serving his men sauerkraut and imagining what it must have been like for those men to go through such an awful disease and then realizing that something so simple to transport could relieve them. Of course oranges and lemons would also have saved them but there were so difficult to transport for voyages of more and a week or two which was practically all of them in those days.

Niki broke my reverie by grabbing my arm. “My purse! Do you see my purse? It’s gone! Some bastard stole my purse!” Then she realized she had left it in the other room hooked over the back of her chair, but when we ran back it was nowhere to be seen.

After looking everywhere at least six times, and getting the barman all flustered wiht the same questions being asked of him several times in quick succession. "Did you see who took my purse? It was right here! How could you have not seen it? Ye Gods and little fishes!", we decided to go to the police. Thank goodness she had her passport, travel cheques and Eurail receipt, although the actual pass was gone. The cash was a write-off, but the sentimental things really hurt, like the wallet, a gift from her parents, and a couple of photos. We went to the bank first so she could change some money and a few blocks towards the police station realized that she’d left her knapsack at the bank! Poor Niki. Severely shaken, she just jabbered constantly, repeating herself and talking way too fast and moving in quick, jerky movements. The lion that was Niki was suddenly a sand flea.

The police were kind and took pains to write everything down. I made her take a copy of the report for insurance purposes which I thought was extremely sensible of me, then insisted on treating her to something at the first place we saw. The first place we saw only sold hot chocolate. Niki took my arm, turned on her heel and led me down the road to a bar. I guess hot chocolate is a little lame after such a dramatic experience.

I tried to keep her mind on positive things, but she talked about her lost purse throughout the entire day and evening. I tried to be sympathetic and listen each time like it was the first time I’d heard the story, but I was exhausted when we finally went to bed.