We had a long flight, a long layover in Frankfurt, another flight, this one rather short and a 60 mile drive from Toulouse, but we were home in Leran. Fergus survived his ordeal and sailed thorugh customs. We'd picked up Old Smokey and Nancy had parked it outside the house, unlocked as is her custom. All that remained was to drink some wine to take the edge off the wierd, wired feeling you get from airplane travel, and some sleep.
We got up the next morning and Nancy couldn't find her purse as we were heading out to pay Monsieur Nelkin for the house and car insurance and to get some groceries. A complete search of the house turned up nothing. We searched all three floors again to no avail. We concluded that the purse had spent at least half the night in Old Smokey, and about half the night with some Leran teenager. The purse had about 132 American Dollars and a bunch of credit cards in it.
Nancy cancelled the credit cards, etc. Took all the precautions, no harm done. We went to the bar to use the internet and found no one had wiped us out yet. So far so good. $132 was not that insurmountabe of a loss.
This morning as I was unpacking our gear, I found the purse. It had been under a pile of baggage and and clothes on the floor of our bedroom. Voila. The mystery had been solved.
Our apologies to the teenagers of Leran who suffered a day of our silent curses.