The next morning, I have breakfast with the Kretz’s. I take my time getting my stuff together. Ron has an appointment mid-day, so I leave with him and he drops me at the subway.

After 2 pm, I head back to the police station. All they do is provide me with a printed copy of a formal report. I’m not sure what this does for me, but it’s a formal record of what happened. At the police station, they allow me to call the US embassy. I ask when they close and if there’s any benefit to my going there. There isn’t, so I decide not to. I imagine the only real benefit to going to the embassy is if my passport was stolen or if I need legal assistance. ~