For the last three days I have been labouring under the misconception that some sod in Hay-on-Wye stole my purse. I would like to formally apologise for this grossly incorrect assumption.

Far from Hay-on-Wye being a hotbed of criminality, it’s residents are clearly lovely, as one of them took my purse into Brecon police station. I knew people that read books had to be more Nancy than Bill Sykes.

I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I’d go so far as to say that the residents of Hay-on-Wye are possibly a bit too nice.

My purse was found outside the pub. It was approximately fifteen minutes after being in the pub (drinking a pint and eating nachos so I definitely still had my faculties on departure I promise) that I realised it was missing. My good samaritan worked so fast in taking it home and to the police station that I couldn’t find it when I came back to look for it only minutes later. I mean if they had popped their head into the pub to say they’d found a purse then I would have saved quite a bit of money and you, poor reader, from yet another blog entry – but as I say I am really grateful.

Once more to be united with photos from 22 years ago when hair was undercut and jumpers were dubious. I’ll have a spare driving licence (I know that isn’t a thing) and all my loyalty cards back so I can get that coffee and eventually have money off at Paperchase. Of course I’d been so efficient I’d reordered almost every bit of plastic in the purse but at least English Heritage didn’t answer the phone so that card will still be useful.

I also want to say thank you most wholeheartedly to Brecon police station. They wrote to me extremely fast to let me know it had been handed in. They enclosed a letter saying I needed to pick it up or nominate a representative to do so and I began to wonder if I knew anyone who liked me enough to go and get it for me. However, even in this crazy world of police cuts and administrative nonsense, they are going to use the money in the purse to send it back to me. My faith in humanity is restored, temporarily at least. Plus being spoken to by lovely Welsh police officers and staff made my day.

In the meantime I’m waiting for normal service to resume. Today I filled the parking meter with 20ps and only mildly irritated the girl behind me in the queue. My husband gives me money each morning like I’m a 1950s housewife. It’s all quite been quite an experience. Roll on having to pick up my purse from the post office taking proof of ID…..ah it’s in my purse.



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