The tour guide had told us to be aware of the gypsy women selling scarves. The scarves (or whatever) were of flimsy material that billowed easily obstructing both vision and movement. Had he not warned us, at least one in our group (and that would have been me) could have suffered a serious loss.

The women worked in twos or threes. Their procedure was fast and simple. One would step in front waving a scarf in your face. While you fended her off the others would be rifling through your pockets. Once done they would disappear in the crowd. So even with immediate realisation of what had happened there would be little chance you would catch them.

We were in St. Peter’s Square, Rome, as were hundreds of others. And, as predicted, I soon had three women around me. The one in front kept waving a scarf in my face while the other two moved to either side.

I was loaded with camera bag over one shoulder and camera round my neck, safe enough. My wallet was in my pants pocket, and that’s where I put my hand. In the nick of time, though, for also in my pocket was a woman’s hand. I was able to hold on to it for just a moment before it was wrenched away. Without my wallet, though. And the hand, and the woman attached to it? They were gone. I didn’t even buy a scarf.

Most of the photographs I took that day included people. But I still managed to get some without them, though, by shooting over their heads, by using a telephoto lens.

It could have been a disastrous day.