They found my wallet and I excitedly went to the central lost and found place in Utrecht to pick it up.

When I finally found the place, walking a couple of kilometers in the rain, I handed her the letter. She disappeared out back for a couple of minutes and reappeared with her poker-face caked with make-up. Try not to look too grumpy now or your face might crack open.

Here you go she said to me and then turned away from me not caring if I was thankful or not.

There it was in my hand again that black wallet looking as intact as the first day I bought it. Fortunately, 'almost' everything was still in there.

Unfortunately, everything 'except' for the sixty-five euros in cash and the hundred-eighty euros worth of train tickets.

So it looks like it was a pick-pocket after all. That jerk.