13 Tourist Scams in Marseille

"Friendship bracelet" vendors at the Vieux-Port quayside and along La Canebière catch your wrist mid-stride and knot a colored string before you can pull back, then aggressively demand €5–€20 cash to remove it — and while you fumble with the slip-knot, an accomplice lifts your wallet or phone.

You're walking the Vieux-Port quayside near the Hôtel de Ville with a coffee in one hand. A smiling man steps into your path holding a small bouquet of colored threads, says "for friendship, free gift," and his free hand catches your left wrist before you've finished registering the encounter. The knot is half-finished by the time you pull your arm back.

"Vingt euro," he says, still smiling. The bracelet has a slip-knot construction that tightens when you tug — pulling the knot to remove it makes it tighter, not looser. He holds your forearm gently. If you refuse, he raises his voice and the volume itself becomes the pressure: passersby on La Canebière look over, the encounter becomes public, and the easiest exit is to hand over €10 or €20. The actual play, though, is the partner you didn't see — while one hand is on your wrist and your eyes are on the bracelet, an accomplice has stepped behind you and lifted whatever's in a back pocket or outer bag pocket. The crew works the Vieux-Port boardwalk, La Canebière between Cours Belsunce and the Old Port, and the area outside the Cathédrale de la Major. Same script as Paris's Sacré-Cœur and Rome's Spanish Steps; same playbook.

The whole scam dies if your wrist never enters reach. Walk Marseille tourist corridors with both hands in front pockets or crossed at your chest — vendors who can't catch your wrist can't tie a bracelet, and a firm "non, merci" without breaking stride is enough to discourage all but the most aggressive crews. If a vendor manages to start a knot, pull your arm back forcefully and step into the nearest shop or hotel lobby; the bracelet is loose enough to remove with scissors at the hotel. Don't pay even €5 to "make it stop" — paying once marks you for the same crew the rest of the day. Police Nationale 17 if a vendor blocks your path or refuses to release your arm.

A stranger near the Vieux-Port, La Canebière, or Gare Saint-Charles "finds" a fake-stamped gold ring at your feet, offers it as your "lucky day" gift, and demands a €10–€30 finder's fee — and while you examine the brass ring, an accomplice lifts your wallet or phone from behind.

You're walking near the Vieux-Port when a man in front of you suddenly bends down, picks something up off the cobbles, and turns to you with wide eyes: "Madame, monsieur — did you drop this?" He's holding what looks like a gold ring with a faint "18K" stamp inside the band.

You shake your head — it's not yours. He examines it, looks impressed, and says "Lucky day for you — take it, it's yours." Two seconds later he adds: "Maybe a small reward for the honesty? Trente euros?" The ring is worthless brass with a fake stamp pressed in by the same crew that drops a fresh batch on the pavement every morning. Two plays run from here. In version one, you decline and he insists you take it as a gift then demands the finder's fee. In version two, you buy it for €30 thinking it's discounted gold, then a jeweler in town tells you it's worth nothing. In both versions, the actual lift is the accomplice — while your eyes and hands are on the ring, a second person has stepped close enough to lift a wallet from a back pocket or unzip your backpack. The gold-ring opener works the Vieux-Port quayside, La Canebière, the area around Gare Saint-Charles, and the streets around the Panier old town.

The whole scam dies if you don't break stride. Don't stop or examine anything a stranger "finds" on the pavement in Marseille — keep walking, say "Non, ce n'est pas à moi" without slowing, and keep one hand on your bag or wallet because the ring is the distraction, not the scam. If a finder physically blocks you, step into the nearest open shop, café, or hotel lobby — the crew won't follow into a venue with cameras. Carry your wallet in a front trouser pocket or money belt and your backpack on your front in any Marseille tourist corridor. Real lost-and-found in Marseille goes to the Mairie or Police Municipale; nobody legitimate insists you keep a found ring.

Pickpocket teams work Gare Saint-Charles, the Vieux-Port quayside, Metro Line 1, and the Calanques shuttle stops with a child-swarm distraction or a directions-ask while an accomplice lifts your wallet or phone — the metro door-close-window is the highest-density lift moment of the day.

You're at Gare Saint-Charles waiting for the Metro Line 1 to head to the Vieux-Port. A small group of children — maybe four or five, ages 8 to 13 — drifts toward you with one of them holding a folded cardboard sign asking for change. They press in close, the sign comes up at chest height, you wave them off, they linger another five seconds and disperse.

By the time you board the metro, your wallet is gone. The cardboard sign was the chest-height blocker; the child closest to you wasn't the one asking for change but the one with a hand inside your jacket. The crew works the Saint-Charles concourse, the Vieux-Port boardwalk, La Canebière, the Calanques shuttle stops, and Metro Line 1 — the door-open-and-close moment is the highest-density lift window of the day because thieves grab and step off in the same motion the doors close on the rest of the carriage. Adult variants: someone asks for directions while standing unusually close, a "lost tourist" with a folded map, a "broken phone needs to call hotel" pitch. Distractor and lifter are always different people; the distractor faces you, the lifter is already behind or beside you when you registered the encounter. Saint-Charles has the heaviest concentration in the city.

The defense is positional and behavioral. Wear a cross-body bag in front (never slung behind), keep phones out of back pockets and wallet/passport in a money belt or front zipped trouser pocket, and never sling a bag over a chair back at outdoor tables — the chair-back hang is a known invitation in Vieux-Port cafés. Be extra alert at metro doors: the moment doors begin to close, lifts happen in the gap. Treat any directions-ask, map-flash, or child-group approach as an active distraction — keep one hand on your bag through the whole encounter and step into a venue if surrounded. Police Nationale 17 if surrounded or threatened.

"Deaf-mute charity" clipboard crews on the Vieux-Port quayside, near Gare Saint-Charles, and along La Canebière hand you an English-only petition (a red flag in France) and demand €5–€20 cash after signing — the clipboard at chest height is the distraction while an accomplice lifts your wallet from behind.

A young woman approaches near the Vieux-Port with a clipboard and a friendly "English? Speak English?" — she points to her ears and mouth, miming hearing-impaired sign language. The petition heading reads "Help for the Deaf-Mute" in English. Two more young women hover ten meters back.

As soon as you take the clipboard to read or sign, the clipboard rises to chest height — that's the giveaway, because at chest height your eyes are looking down and your peripheral vision can't track your own pockets. The accomplice steps in behind you and slides a hand into your back pocket or jacket. If you sign, the petitioner immediately points to a "donation pledge" line and gets visibly aggressive if you refuse, claiming that signing constituted a binding pledge. There is no deaf-mute charity. The English-language petition is the diagnostic in France — real French petitions are in French. The crews work the Vieux-Port quayside, the area around Gare Saint-Charles, La Canebière, and the streets between the Old Port and the Cathédrale de la Major. Variant pitches: "earthquake fundraiser," "orphan support," "school for the blind."

The defense is non-engagement — the entire scam relies on you stopping to read. Don't take any clipboard or sign anything offered on the street in Marseille — say "non" without breaking stride, keep both hands on your bag or in front pockets, and treat any English-only petition or "deaf-mute" charity approach as a distraction-pickpocket setup, not a real fundraiser. Real French charities raise funds at staffed stalls outside Monoprix, in front of the Mairie, or with branded bibs identifying the organization — they do not chase pedestrians on the Vieux-Port. If multiple people surround you, step into a café or shop and the crew will scatter. Police Nationale 17 if a petitioner blocks your path.

Three-card monte and shell-game operators near the Vieux-Port and Gare Saint-Charles run a four-person crew — operator, lookout, roper, shills who pretend to win — and the game is rigged from the opening shuffle, costing tourists €50–€500 in five-minute losses with no chance of winning, and it's illegal under French gambling law.

You're walking through the Vieux-Port boardwalk on a Saturday afternoon and a small crowd is gathered around a man with three playing cards on a folded cardboard box: "Find the queen, double your money." A tourist next to you bets €20, picks the right card, and walks away with €40. Another tries it and wins €60. The game looks genuinely beatable.

You bet €50 on what you're sure is the queen. The operator flips it — it's a black card. The €50 is gone in three seconds. You bet €100 to recover. Lost. €200 — the operator is suddenly very smooth, the cards move so fast even your video replay shows nothing wrong. You're €350 down before the lookout whistles "police" and the entire operation packs up in under twenty seconds. The crowd that "won" earlier was the four-person crew: the operator handles the cards, the roper pulls tourists in by feigning excitement, the shills pretend to win with marked bills the operator pays out and gets back later, and the lookout watches for the Police Municipale (the game is illegal in France under article L.324-2 of the gambling code). Some crews turn aggressive if you try to leave mid-loss without paying. The Vieux-Port boardwalk, the streets near Gare Saint-Charles, and the public squares around La Canebière are the densest spots; the crews rotate locations every 30–60 minutes.

The whole scam dies the moment you don't engage. Don't stop, don't watch, and don't bet — three-card monte and shell games are always rigged, every "winning" bystander is part of the crew, and the game is illegal in France so any reported losses to police won't be recovered through prosecution because the operators vanish on cue. If you've already lost money, walk away and don't try to "win it back" — that's the doubled-loss trap that takes most victims from €50 to €500. Police Nationale 17 to report the operation; the Police Municipale will know the corner. Anti-pickpocket rule applies: while you watch the game, accomplices in the surrounding crowd lift wallets from spectators.

Unlicensed "taxi" touts inside Marseille Provence Airport (MRS) and Gare Saint-Charles quote €100–€150 fares to the city center when the official prefecture rate is €50 daytime / €60 night — and licensed drivers claim "broken meter" with cash-only flat-rate demands at hotels along the Vieux-Port.

You step out of Marseille Provence Airport's Terminal 1 with a suitcase and a man in a dark jacket with a lanyard catches your eye in the arrivals hall: "Taxi to centro? One hundred twenty euros, fixed rate." The official daytime taxi fare from MRS to central Marseille is €50 (€60 night/Sunday/holiday), set by the prefecture. The €120 quote is more than double.

If you follow him out a side door, you're in an unmarked car with no taxi sign, no meter, no license number visible, and no recourse when he refuses to release your bags from the trunk until you pay cash at the hotel. The licensed-but-scam variant works in reverse: a real taxi from the Saint-Charles rank starts the meter normally, then the driver covers it with his hand while taking a long detour through the Joliette docks, or claims the meter is "en panne" (broken) and quotes a €90 flat rate for what should be a €25 ride. At night, the inflation factor reaches 2–3× because most tourists don't know the regulated rates and the drivers know it. The same play hits Gare Saint-Charles arrivals at peak hours, hotel pickups along La Canebière, and late-night runs from Vieux-Port nightlife districts.

The fix is the regulated rate sheet — every Marseille taxi rank has the prefecture-set fares posted, and any deviation is a refusable transaction. Use only official taxis from the marked rank outside Arrivals (MRS Airport) or outside Gare Saint-Charles — confirm the €50 daytime / €60 night flat rate before bags go in the trunk, demand the meter ("au compteur, s'il vous plaît") for non-airport runs, and never follow anyone who solicits inside the terminal. Uber and Bolt operate in Marseille with transparent upfront pricing as the cleanest alternative. The shuttle bus from MRS to Gare Saint-Charles (Navette MRS-Marseille) runs every 10 minutes for €10. Note the driver's license plate and "carte professionnelle" number visible on the dashboard if overcharged; the photographed display is the evidence for a complaint to the prefecture or Police Municipale.

Vieux-Port tourist restaurants advertise €28 prix-fixe menus where 9 of 13 dishes carry hidden €5–€10 supplements, swap free "carafe d'eau" with €6 bottled water, push verbally-quoted "specials" at €40+, and pre-fill 15–20% gratuity on the card terminal — a posted €28 lunch lands at €60 per person.

You sit down at a Vieux-Port terrasse advertising a "Menu Provençal — 28€." The bouillabaisse looks like the obvious choice. The waiter brings water (a bottle of Évian, never asked), bread, and an amuse-bouche unbidden. You order the bouillabaisse and the niçoise salad, two glasses of rosé. The bill arrives at €78 per person.

The €28 menu was real — but 9 of the 13 dishes on it carried a "supplément" of €5–€10 each, printed in tiny font next to the dish name. Bouillabaisse alone was a €15 supplement. The Évian was €6 (free tap water "carafe d'eau" is mandatory by law on request). The €4 amuse-bouche and €3 bread arrived as separate line items. The card terminal pre-filled a 15% tip you didn't ask for; tipping is voluntary in France because service is "compris" by law. Some restaurants run dual menus where the English version prices identical dishes €3–€10 higher than the French version; some quote "daily specials" verbally without prices that turn into €40–€55 on the bill. The Vieux-Port quayside, the streets around the Cathédrale de la Major, and the Panier old town are the densest tourist-trap zones. Reputable Marseille spots (Chez Fonfon, Le Petit Nice, Chez Madie Les Galinettes for bouillabaisse) are transparent — the diagnostic is whether the printed menu shows all supplements clearly.

The defense is to read carefully and ask explicit questions. Ask for "une carafe d'eau" (free tap water by law), request the French-language menu and verify all supplements before ordering, ask for the price of any "daily special" before saying yes ("le prix du plat du jour, s'il vous plaît"), and decline pre-filled tip percentages on the card terminal — service is compris and tipping is voluntary in France. Eat one block off the Vieux-Port and prices drop 30–40%. Watch for "couvert" or "service" lines on printed menus and check every line item before paying. If an unordered item appears, point it out — legitimate restaurants will adjust, scam restaurants refuse, and the refusal itself is the diagnostic.

Standalone ATMs in Marseille tourist areas, near the Vieux-Port, and outside Saint-Charles get fitted with card-slot skimmers, fake keypad overlays, and pinhole cameras that clone your card and capture the PIN — and a false-slot insert variant jams your card so a "helper" can retrieve it (and the data) once you walk away.

After dinner you stop at a standalone ATM on a side street near Cours Belsunce to top up cash. The machine looks normal. You insert your card, cover the keypad with your other hand, and withdraw €100. Two days later your bank texts you about a €1,500 charge in Lyon and another €700 in Brussels.

Skimming crews attach two devices: a card-reader overlay glued onto the real card slot (it captures the magnetic stripe data as your card slides past) and a fake keypad pressed over the real keys (it records the PIN). Some machines have pinhole cameras tucked into the surrounding plastic above the keypad to capture the PIN even if you covered it imperfectly. The variant scam is the false-slot insert that jams your card: your card goes in, won't come out, the screen freezes. A "helpful" stranger appears (sometimes within seconds, because they were waiting) and suggests you re-enter the PIN to free it. You enter the PIN twice, give up, walk to the bank to report the issue — and as soon as you're out of sight, the scammer pulls a thin tool from his pocket, retrieves both the false-slot insert and your stuck card, and uses the PIN he just watched you enter. Marseille hot spots: standalone ATMs near the Vieux-Port boardwalk, around Gare Saint-Charles at night, on Cours Belsunce, and outside nightlife venues in the Cours Julien district.

The fix is to use bank-lobby ATMs and to physically check the machine before inserting. Use ATMs inside bank lobbies during business hours (BNP Paribas, Société Générale, Crédit Agricole, CIC) rather than standalone street ATMs at night, wiggle the card slot before inserting (skimmers detach with a firm tug because they're glued not bolted), cover the keypad with your other hand while entering the PIN, and check above the keypad for any unusual fittings or pinhole cameras — and if your card jams, do NOT leave the machine: call your bank's emergency number from the ATM itself and stay until staff arrive. Enable transaction-alert SMS so any clone activity triggers a notification within seconds. After a confirmed skim, freeze the card immediately through the bank app and file a Plainte with Police Nationale within 24 hours for the chargeback paper trail.

Two-man "plainclothes police" or "Tourist Police" teams flash fake badges in Marseille tourist areas, on public transport, and near nightlife venues, demand to inspect your wallet for "counterfeit bills" or "drug money," and lift €100–€500 cash plus card numbers while pretending to verify the contents — real French police never ask to see your wallet on the street.

It's late evening near a Cours Julien bar and two men in plain clothes intercept you. One flashes what looks like a police ID for half a second — you barely register the badge before he flips it shut — and announces in firm English that there's a counterfeit-euro problem in the neighborhood and they need to inspect your wallet to verify your bills.

If you hand it over, he thumbs through the cash, holds bills up to the light, palms €100–€300 out of the cash compartment, and hands the wallet back. You discover the missing money five minutes later when both "officers" are already across the street and disappearing into the late-night crowd. The variant is a "fine" demand: they accuse you of a minor infraction (jaywalking, smoking near a tram stop, "public drinking") and demand €50–€200 cash on the spot to avoid a formal procedure. Real French police never demand cash fines on the street and never ask to see a tourist's wallet — they only verify identity documents (passport, ID card), and any wallet inspection is conducted at a station, not curbside. The crews work the Vieux-Port boardwalk, the streets around Cours Julien at night, public transport (Metro Line 1 between Saint-Charles and Vieux-Port), and the area near Gare Saint-Charles at peak hours.

The whole scam dies the moment you don't hand over the wallet. If anyone in plain clothes claims to be police in Marseille, do not produce your wallet or pay any "fine" — show only a photocopy of your passport, ask to see the officer's "carte professionnelle" (legally required ID with photo and badge number), and insist on continuing any inspection at the nearest commissariat ("nous allons au commissariat ensemble"). Real officers will agree without resistance; scammers will lose interest and walk off. Real fines in France are issued in writing on a "procès-verbal" with a payment slip — never cash on the spot. Call 17 (police) or 112 (EU emergency) if the encounter escalates or they block your path.

A well-dressed stranger near a Marseille metro station or Vieux-Port café "accidentally" spills coffee, ice cream, or sauce on your jacket, then steers you toward a bench while "helping" clean it — and his accomplice walks off with your bag, wallet, or phone in the 30 seconds your hands are on the stain.

You're walking out of the Vieux-Port metro station toward La Canebière and a businessman in a suit collides with you near the exit. A coffee splashes across your jacket. He apologizes profusely in French and English, pulls a tissue from his pocket, gestures to a nearby bench: "Asseyez-vous, je vais vous aider." You sit down, take the jacket off to inspect the damage, and let him dab at the stain.

Twenty seconds later he says "voilà, c'est fini" and walks off. Your bag — which you set on the bench beside you when you took off the jacket — is gone. The "accomplice" was a second person you never registered, who picked the bag up casually as he walked past while you and the spiller were focused on the stain. The variants share the same logic: a "jogger" bumps into you hard, then helps you up while a partner lifts your wallet; someone "drops" coins or papers near your feet, and as you bend to help, an accomplice grabs your bag from behind; an older woman "trips" near you and grabs your arm for "balance" while her partner unzips your backpack. The crews work metro stations (Vieux-Port, Saint-Charles, Castellane), outdoor cafés along the Vieux-Port boardwalk, and the Cours Julien terrasse area at peak hours.

The defense is to never let a stranger handle your clothes or focus your attention on a stain. If something is spilled on you in Marseille, immediately check that your bag, wallet, and phone are still on you, walk fifty meters away from the helpful stranger before addressing the stain, and clean it yourself somewhere safe (a café, your hotel) — never let a stranger help wipe, never set down your bag, and never take off your jacket on the spot. The "spill" is part of the scam, not a coincidence. If a "jogger" bumps you, immediately check your pockets and step into a venue. Carry valuables in a money belt or front trouser pocket so even if the bag goes missing the cards and passport don't. Police Nationale 17 if surrounded.

Rental cars at Calanques National Park trailheads, Prado beach parking, and Provence scenic viewpoints get smashed-window break-ins within 10–60 minutes — Marseille and surrounding Provence have one of France's highest rental-car theft rates, with one traveler reporting their car stripped after a 10-minute beach stop.

You park the rental at the Calanques de Sugiton trailhead for a 90-minute hike. The trunk has your suitcase, a backpack with a laptop, and a camera bag. When you come back, the rear quarter window is shattered, glass is on the back seat, and the trunk is empty.

The crews working Marseille and Provence parking lots are professional. They stake out lots near the Calanques National Park trailheads (Sugiton, Morgiou, En-Vau, Sormiou), the Prado beaches, scenic viewpoints along the Corniche Kennedy, and isolated parking near Cassis ferry departures. They identify rentals by license plates, sterile interiors, GPS suction-cup marks on windshields, and visible bags or even visibly empty bags (an empty backpack still suggests a laptop went into the trunk). They time the break-in for the middle of the average visit window — beach is 2–4 hours, Calanques hike is 90–180 minutes, viewpoint stop is 5–15 minutes. A 10-minute beach stop has been documented in traveler reports as enough time for a complete car strip. The variant scam works in traffic: thieves on scooters approach at red lights or in slow traffic on the corniche roads and grab bags through open windows. France has one of the highest car break-in rates in Western Europe; the Marseille-Calanques zone is among the busiest single corridors. A smashed quarter-window costs the rental company €300–€800 (deducted from your damage deposit) and stolen luggage is rarely recovered.

The fix is to never leave anything in the car you can't replace cheaply. Check into the hotel before any sightseeing stops — drop suitcases first, then drive to Calanques trailheads, beaches, and viewpoints with the trunk completely empty, and never store luggage, electronics, passports, or even visibly empty bags in a parked rental in the Marseille-Provence region. Use attended parking (parc de stationnement gardé) or hotel valet at €5–€15 premium when bags must stay in the car. Keep windows closed and doors locked at every traffic light or stop on the corniche roads. Carry passports on your person rather than the trunk. After a break-in, photograph the damage, file a Plainte with Police Nationale within 24 hours, and notify the rental company within the same window.

Phantom Airbnb / Booking.com listings for Marseille apartments at below-market rates ask you to "pay outside the platform" via wire transfer to save fees — the photos are stolen from real listings in other cities, and on arrival you find no apartment, no host, and no platform recourse because off-platform payment voids the protection.

You're booking Marseille four months out and find a Vieux-Port one-bedroom with sea views at €90/night when comparable units are €180+. The host messages: "Let's handle this directly off-platform — we save the Airbnb fee, you save 15%, I send my IBAN, you wire €630 for the week." It feels savvy. You wire the money.

The "host" disappears. When you fly into Marseille, the address either doesn't exist, leads to a real building where the listed apartment number isn't part of the layout, or is occupied by a Marseillais family who have never heard of you. The photos were lifted from a real Airbnb in Bordeaux. The whole scam works because the platform's payment-protection only covers transactions completed through the platform — once you wired money to a private IBAN, you have zero recourse with Airbnb, the wire is irreversible, and the host account either gets deleted or was a stolen account from the start. The variant is the "bait and switch": the host cancels 24 hours before check-in claiming "plumbing issues," then offers an inferior substitute (3 blocks inland, smaller, no view) that you accept because it's too late to find anything else. France has seen an epidemic of vacation-rental fraud, and the Mediterranean coast (Marseille, Cassis, Calanques) is among the most-targeted regions during summer high season. Variant indicators: brand-new host with thin reviews, urgency ("two other guests are interested today"), price 30–50% below market, suggestion to communicate via WhatsApp or email "to avoid platform fees."

The defense is to never pay outside the platform's secure checkout. Book Marseille accommodations only through the official Airbnb, VRBO, or Booking.com checkout flow — never wire transfer to an IBAN, never send PayPal "friends and family," and treat any "let's handle this directly" message from a host as an immediate cancel-and-report signal. Reverse-image-search property photos before booking (Google Lens or TinEye) — phantom listings recycle photos from real properties in other cities. Verify the address on Google Maps Street View. Pay with a credit card so chargeback protection layers on top of platform protection. After confirmation, message the host through the platform asking for the exact street address and a phone number — legitimate hosts respond within hours.

Beach thieves at the Prado beaches and Calanques swimming coves wait for tourists to walk to the water and lift the entire bag — phone, wallet, hotel key — in the 60-second window before you turn around, with pair-team variants using a distractor in conversation while a partner walks off with the towel pile.

It's a hot afternoon at one of the Plages du Prado. You spread your towel on the pebble beach, set your tote bag down beside it, and walk twenty meters into the warm Mediterranean for a quick swim. The phone is in the bag, the wallet is in the bag, and the bag is "right there."

By the time you turn around — sixty, ninety seconds — the bag is gone. The thief was already on the beach pretending to read on a towel of their own; they wait for swimmers to commit to the water, then walk past the unattended bag and pick it up like it's theirs. By the time you reach your towel, they've crossed onto the boardwalk and are gone. The pair-team variant works at the Calanques de Sormiou and En-Vau swimming coves, where the long walks down to the beach mean tourists often pile belongings together for the swim — one thief engages a target in friendly English-language conversation about the view while a partner picks up the nearby towel pile and walks off. The Prado beaches have many shaded areas (umbrella pines, beach-club edges) that provide cover; the Calanques have sparse foot traffic that makes the lift even quieter.

The fix is logistical — the only safe rule is that nothing of value is on the towel when you swim. Bring only what you can afford to lose to the beach (a small amount of cash, sunscreen, a towel) and leave phones, wallets, passports, and watches in the hotel safe — or use a waterproof neck pouch so valuables come into the water with you. Use beach-locker rentals at the Prado where available (€3–€5 for the day). At the Calanques, take turns swimming with a travel companion so someone is always watching the towel pile. Pay €15–€25 for a private beach-club lounger at the Prado where staff actively watch belongings. Avoid beaches alone at night. If something is taken, file a Plainte with Police Nationale the same day — the report number is required for travel-insurance claims.