American Idle

I went to a Sherlock Holmes pub in London at the weekend.

Inside were a group of twelve Americans on a sightseeing trip. Whoever had organised the trip had seemingly worked hard to ensure the group were as susceptible as possible to pickpockets, scam artists and the like.

In addition to every group member sporting an extra large fluorescent green T-shirt - with the words 'London 2008' emblazoned fore, and 'The Massachusetts Twelve' aft - each Massachussettian bore a pouch strung around their neck, on which was helpfully written "Important Items", complete with ill-used quotation marks.

Out of a specially designed pocket at the front of each pouch the individuals' passports protruded. The pocket had cleverly been given a depth of around 2cm less than the height of an average passport, meaning the top of each American's most important travel document, where the word 'PASSPORT' is usually etched, was on display.

Most group members had chosen to complement the sitting-duck look with the classic middle-aged, middle-class combination of beige chinos with bright white trainers. As a rule, a bumbag nestled unenviably between beer belly and crotch.

It was only a brief encounter; soon after our arrival the group downed their Cokes and headed out into the night. I scanned the newspaper the next day for stories relating to fluorescently-clad Americans having been mugged, but my search was in vain.