What to Do When Your Phone Gets Stolen Abroad: A Saga

Now while, I admit, the wine was not my favorite and the cheeses could have been better selected (I was nervous speaking French, so I essentially pointed to random cheeses and asked for five euros’ worth of each), it was a lovely way to pass the afternoon.

The Crime

We had reservations that night for a belated birthday dinner, and we were both extremely excited. At about 5:00 pm, we were calculating what time we wanted to leave so we could get ready and arrive at the restaurant on time. We’d decided on 5:45 pm.

At around 5:15 pm, a man approached us, speaking French, and grabbed for the end of our bread. Autumn pushed him away and told him to leave. He muttered something presumably rude in French and walked off.

We were shaken, and then noticed that my Swiss Army knife, with the blade fully extended, was right beside the bread—leaving us even more unsettled.

A few minutes later, I reached for my phone. I searched for about a minute before saying, “Autumn, my phone fully isn’t here. I think he stole my phone.”

Which, of course, is exactly what happened.

The Aftermath

We packed up the picnic to make doubly sure that my phone hadn’t just ended up somewhere silly. Autumn called my phone to see if it would ring (nope). She also had my location shared with her, so we tried to track my phone down. The thief had clearly immediately turned off my phone because it was still showing as being exactly where I left it.

The next step was calling the police. I didn’t know the number for the French police at the time, so I had to look it up. For reference:

I called 112, explained what had happened, and had my call rerouted to the French police. I repeated what happened, gave them my address and approximate location, and I was told to stay there and wait for the police to arrive.

Then they hung up, and I never heard from them again.

We waited for nearly an hour for someone to show up, watching the spot from a distance in case the thief decided to return to the scene of the crime. It was quite a spectacle, in hindsight, to imagine Autumn taking pulls from our half-empty wine bottle while we scanned the crowd for the thief.

In the meantime, I put my phone in Lost Mode and talked to Apple Support through Autumn’s phone. They did absolutely nothing, but at least my phone was now unusable and my information was safe (relatively speaking).

The next step was to walk to the nearest police station, which was about 20 minutes away on foot. At this point, we called the restaurant to move our dinner reservation. It was a surreal experience to rely on someone else’s GPS to get around, and the number of times I unconsciously reached for my stolen phone was both illuminating and embarrassing.

At the police station, we were directed to an officer who spoke English. She was very kind and took our statement, explained that this was a common occurrence in Paris, and asked that we email her if there were any updates on the phone’s location.

Note: The police asked me for the IMEI of my phone so that, if it did turn up, they could confirm it was mine. You can find your phone’s IMEI in the device settings (if you still have a phone, of course), on the original box, or by contacting your carrier.

I left feeling drained and unmoored. After all of that, I decided to put everything aside and figure it out in the morning. Autumn and I made our later reservation, and I had a truly fabulous birthday dinner at the fanciest restaurant I’ve ever been to.

The next day, I went to a secondhand shop called Cash Express and bought a used iPhone 13. It wasn’t exactly money I was thrilled to spend, but it could have been worse. The guy at the counter was very nice and didn’t have a problem with me checking the IMEI compatibility with my carrier before I bought the phone.

Note for U.S. Mobile Users: many phones sold outside the United States aren’t fully compatible with U.S. carriers. I discovered this with my original backup phone that I’d purchased in Morocco: the IMEI wasn’t compatible with Xfinity, so I couldn’t transfer my number to it. iPhones, especially newer models, generally have broader international compatibility. Before buying a new phone abroad, make sure to check the phone’s IMEI with your service provider to ensure it will work.

Once I had the replacement phone, I set it up and tried to transfer my number and reinstall my eSIMs. My data eSIM carrier was wonderful. I had to create a new account to install a new eSIM on this phone, but they transferred my prepaid plans from my old account quickly and painlessly.

My primary phone carrier, on the other hand, was a disaster. My eSIM was allegedly installed, but I could only receive texts and calls, not make them. I spent the next three weeks in chats and on calls with Xfinity agents who gave me conflicting information and had me perform countless eSIM reinstalls (no less than 20 times—I wish I were exaggerating).

It was horrible. When I finally managed to get the phone working, it appeared that installing my eSIM abroad had resulted in my outgoing calls and texts being disabled. (There are service codes you can dial on your phone to check whether the same issue is affecting you.)

An Update:

After all of that effort, I now have a fully working phone again. Even better, after multiple weeks of my stolen phone being offline, I received a notification that it had reappeared in Oujda, Morocco, in a small souk that, according to Google reviews, appears to be a hub for resold secondhand phones.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I used to live in the Rif, and I’ve been to Oujda (not a popular tourist destination, let me just say). For my phone to end up there of all places—when I was no longer living there or able to leverage my connections to the local police and government—was hysterical.

Anyway, the reason I shared this story—other than it being too funny not to—is to serve as a guide rather than a cautionary tale. When I told people this story, I received two different reactions: from Parisians, something akin to “Ah, typical Paris,” and from people back home, “Oh no, are you scared now?”

And honestly, the opposite is true. Someone asked me if I’d ever go back to the Jardin des Tuileries after that. I had already been back several times by then: it was cherry blossom season, and I love reading in the park before or after visiting the Louvre.

First of all, from a numbers perspective, I like to joke that the odds are in my favor: I’ve had my phone stolen once—what are the odds it will happen again? (Famous last words, of course, but it’s all in good fun.)

More than that, though, I don’t want to live in fear of “what if I get robbed again?”

While not ideal, going through that nightmare scenario gave me more confidence in myself I handled the situation as best I could and made it to the other side. It’s harder to catastrophize about the unknown when it’s no longer unknown.

Conclusion

As someone who travels full-time, I expect things to go wrong, and they often do. Every time something bad or unexpected happens, I get through it and become more confident that, yes, I can handle anything.