By Debby Merickel
My mother had hers stolen from her purse at the grocery store; my daughter had hers snatched from her backpack at school but MY wallets live a more exciting life!
Stripped and stupid
Seven years ago in Barcelona, despite being on alert, my travel partner and I were targeted by petty-thieves descending the steps of the subway. As the scene unfolded we were outwitted. An elderly man stumbled onto us on the last step, dropped his glasses, and then groped for them before struggling to get up. While we were kindly assisting him, his conniving partners helped themselves to our wallets.
Saved by the safe
We immediately went back to the hotel, reported the theft to the desk clerk and asked for help. The police came promptly to take our complaint but promised nothing; we called the States to cancel credit cards but luckily had left our passports, tickets and a spare credit card in the hotel safe. We worked hard at not letting this incident spoil the rest of our vacation, but we still felt violated.
Not again
A few years older and wiser, I caught a woman about my age with her fingers lightly placed on each side of my neck pouch containing my money and Visa card. We were on a city bus in Tallinn, Estonia, so I didn’t create a scene but scrutinized her every move as I backed away into a more secure spot. Undaunted by me she snuggled up to my partner while I prepared to scream and swat if she so much as touched the backpack he was carrying. She jumped off at the next stop and I proudly proclaimed my fierce protection of our belongings.
What’s in your wallet?
He immediately went to his back pocket and announced his wallet was missing! I felt absolutely horrible, why hadn’t I done more to maintain our economic safety? He began chuckling uncontrollably and made me jump off the bus with him in search of our crook. He wanted to see her face when she opened his heisted wallet to find it contained only toilet paper. We were now veterans. His money and cards were in the front zipped pockets of his travel pants.
Protection plan
Unfortunately I just returned from St. Petersburg, Russia and discovered I definitely need a new plan. The guidebooks had duly warned us of the various transportation troubles. The taxi drivers would fleece us on the fare, the underground was known to be precarious due to gangsters and the bus system was too confusing to navigate unless you read Russian (something I only think I can do after a few vodka martinis). The best solution was to hire a driver. We were on a budget though and St. Petersburg is much more walkable than Moscow, especially in springtime.
The best laid plans….
By the third day of walking, my feet were killing me, so I was more than willing to take a chance. I studied the underground map with true diligence and believed I had mastered it even though the system is advertised as being the deepest in the world. The escalator went down and down and down (as did my confidence). We looked like tourists; my companion was the only one in the city in a ball cap and he carried his map like a kid waving a flag in the Independence Day Parade.
Red flag
Even though I could not write the language we had tourist and ‘invitation to thieve’ written all over us in big bold Cyrillic letters. I stopped long enough to ask a young woman the right way to our destination. She answered in a melodious voice, speaking wonderful English.
Suddenly a very tall man with a gruff tone interrupted her, obviously correcting her, because she quickly changed her instructions, now telling us to go the opposite way. Although confused we were delighted to be helped and off we went. We heard the train approaching but did not see it as there was nothing but walls along this corridor. We hesitated, not having experienced such an underground. We began looking for a sign or something with a feel of familiarity.
Ruffled by Russians
With no warning the sliding doors in the wall opened and we were literally thrust into the car violently by a group of men behind us. My feet were not touching the floor, there were hands all over me and I was being crushed and folded and pushed into others. My friend was trying to get to me as I groaned in obvious distress. He came to my defense only to have the mob of about six oversized zealous men release me and descend upon him.
Within seconds they were gone, the doors had closed and we were headed in the wrong direction, happy to be relatively unhurt even if we were mad as hell. We didn’t even need to check out our pockets to discover they were much lighter, including the zipped ones in front! Other people on the train evaded our eye contact, not wanting to acknowledge what had happened.
And next time?
The manager of the hotel chastised us and told us not to bother calling the police. There was no proof, no positive identification and furthermore, she never had problems like this herself. Luckily the hotel safe was once again holding our passports and spare credit card. With my camera, my fading bruises and a little forced dignity I arrived home with another life lesson learned. <<
Debby Merickel is putting the finishing touches on her book– a travelogue called The Misadventures of an Aging Globetrotter. Debby has traveled over 85 countries and 65 of them were after she turned 50, eight years ago. Reach her at Debby@LetLifeIn.com
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