Barcelona Stories chapter 2

I Was Robbed In Barcelona and All I Got Was, A Lot of Stuff Actually.

I was robbed. The first night we were there. What happened was this.

I came home from our first night on the town (story to follow), rifled thru my suitcase for PJs and hit the bed after turning off the A/C, which I loathe, and opening the balcony door, which I’d inspected earlier and decided was safe enough. At 9am I woke and went to the bathroom after chiding myself on alcohol induced insomnia (hey, I dragged them out of the club at 530am!) and then went back to bed. Somewhere around 11am I woke and decided that the architects did a crap job on insulating the building because it was loud as hell. Really loud. Unsleepably loud. So I woke and went into the bathroom again. And that’s when I noticed the front door was standing wide open. Wide open into the hallway, keys still in the lock. Which meant that someone opened the door from the inside since these types of locks can’t accommodate more than one key at a time. (sorry Mom, I know I told you I wasn’t there when it happened, but you worry so much and really, after travelling by myself for this long, well, something was bound to happen sooner or later. For the record, both the guys and Jenn said they would have left the window open as well.) Which meant that Someones scaled a 3 story stucco wall with nothing to grab onto, in order to peek into open window on the off chance no one was home, IN BROAD DAYLIGHT, and then walked out the front door carrying my purse, the apartment’s TV, and my lime green and hot pink toiletry bag. (Evidently, people store money in amongst their soaps and potions. Who knew?)

But. And this is the first of two big BUTs to this little tale.

But, they didn’t grab my mobile phone and they didn’t find my passport. I had inadvertently buried the passport while rooting for my PJs and I never go to sleep without the mobile by my bedside after the night in Bishop’s Gate. And, the second BUT coming here, they left me slumbering peacefully. I thank God he sent them greedy and not lusty.

After the initial relaxation of ‘I have my passport, thank God’, I phoned the apartment people and broke the news. They would be by at 8pm that night to phone the police. You read that right: 8pm. No one was available, they were awfully sorry to hear of the incident. Yeah thanks. I then phoned Housemate Clare, who, like a true champion, phoned all my credit card people and both my banks pretending to be me in order to cancel the cards. In the 2 hours they had managed to hit both credit cards for $50 each. Which means they got in addition to the TV and an unhealthy amount of Nivea products, they netted around $150. Plus, and this is what hurts the most, they got Oliver. My beloved camera was in the bottom of my purse. That loss is almost inconsolable. Bastards. I then called the guys, neither of whom answered their phones, so I left what must have been a horrific message for Joe, because they were unable to ascertain if I had been assaulted or just robbed. And then I ran out of call credit, which meant I could only received texts. I curled up on the sofa and replayed the scene in my head of the previous evening where the guys and I decided they’d show me their apartment, in a neighbouring building somewhere, in the morning. I was in Barcelona, with no money, no means of contacting anyone and I had no idea where my friends were staying. I’ve never been so isolated in my life. And to top it off, I need an Advil and to brush my teeth but couldn’t because the bastards took all my toiletries. It’s times like these when you can only do two things: sleep or rock yourself to sleep repeating the mantra: God loves me every day but today, he adores me.

The guys finally called the apartment company after much panic on their part (remember they only knew that someone had broken in and I was hysterical, which I’m often not) and were told how to find me. Two minutes later, the Irish thundered to the rescue. In they came; Mark sized me up while Joe checked the window. Then they changed places and spent a lot of time and effort making sure I was really ok.

I have amazing friends.

And then they went to the pharmacy to buy me emergency supplies, including a toothbrush and phone credit. I really do have amazing friends and I am incredibly thankful for them.

I managed to gather myself together, they took me out to see the sites and then we waited for Sister-In-Law Jenn to arrive, where I greeted her with a huge hug and the whole sordid tale. What could I do? She had to foot the bill for the rest of the trip. Welcome to Spain! Aren’t you glad you came to see me?!