I should have trusted my instincts when the man struck up a conversation with me at the bridge. Instead, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and fell for his charm. Before long I was lifting up the screen of my Mac to show him examples of my work. Spending so much time with this charismatic stranger risked my being late to check into my hotel and meet my fellow delegates, but I was enjoying myself too much to notice.

When I finally met them, I found that my conference colleagues were mainly American PhD students. We all got on well, sharing a common room, with our individual bedrooms nearby. It was a successful event for all – until it was time to leave.

When I started to pack my belongings in the common room, I noticed that my Mac looked different. It had somehow shrunk. Then, when I switched it on, I discovered that the hard drive had been wiped and my files were gone!

I chased along the hotel corridors until I found the man from the bridge. He showed no remorse when he told me that he had worked with his wife to steal all my data. Then he had switched my larger, more expensive laptop for his old tiny one. There was nothing that I could do to retrieve my property.