Beware Spanish brigands
by Gill Williams
One Sunday in April 2007, it was important to go down to Barcelona. My husband and I were to go down to the harbour and meet my daughter Fran and her partner, Joan (Catalan for John), at a point near the Language School where she worked and join up with two friends who were on a weekend trip to Spain. They were Fran’s godfather and his wife so it was an especially pleasurable meeting. We took the motorway south to Spain, but unfortunately missed the exit which leads to the port area.
Not long after, we were flagged down by two men in a car, gesticulating wildly at the back of the car. Now, we knew that there was something a bit loose, since we had grounded at a farm in the hills the other day, and had not had time to have it seen to before this trip, we pulled in and the men drew up behind us. Sadly, we both got out of the car, and one of them reached in and took my handbag and Mike’s jacket and wallet, while the other pointed out what he claimed was wrong underneath the car. Then they roared away, and since we could see nothing wrong with the car, we drove after them. A minute or two later, I wanted my bag, and could not find it, nor could I find Mike’s jacket and wallet. We phoned Fran & Joan and they told us to come on down to our meeting place, which we did. We parked the car at the Torre Mapfre car park which has camera surveillance and took a taxi to the Gendarmeria, where we reported the theft. They held out no hope that they could recover our things, but were very helpful about reporting the theft. We were able to use a dedicated Visa line, and left loaded with useful bits of paper.
But we had lost my bag and purse and Mike’s wallet. We lost credit cards and debits cards, for English and French accounts, health cards, supplementary health insurance forms, passports, driving licences, camping card, club cards etc etc. It was a total pain. It took some time to get the various papers replaced and the costs were rather heavy. However, it was a useful lesson and our friends here in PO tell us that we were lucky not to be held up at gun or knife point.
We were a bit late for lunch with our friends who were week-ending in Barcelona and were waiting patiently at a quayside restaurant. However, we had a very jolly lunchtime, despite still being very shocked. Then Fran and Joan insisted on taking us home to them in Tarragona, so that we could recover. After a very quiet evening, which was so good of them, we took the car home on the now familiar road to home.
This did cast a small cloud on future visits to Spain, but it was good to see the others and to enjoy our meeting together.
LIGHTNING STRIKES TWICE
However, it turned out that we had not fully learned our lesson. In June we returned to Tarragona for the wedding of Fran and Joan, which was a joyful occasion. We were booked into the hotel which handled the reception and were very comfortably housed but n the Saturday morning, my husband and I went down to breakfast with my sister and her husband in the hotel dining room. None of us left the table unattended while we were breakfasting, taking turns to go to the buffet for food, but nonetheless my bag and camera were lifted from the back of my chair, and once again I found myself without passports, credit and debit cards, health cards, driving licence, cheque book and wallet. As well I lost my camera, which had a 1000Gb chip in it, with all the photos of the week we had spent in Tarragona celebrating with the family. Disaster!
After the hotel connected us with the Visa and MasterCard theft reporting services, we enquired about security cameras. There was none in the dining-room, the lobby camera was not working and the car-park camera was not available until the Monday morning. We were not impressed.
We took to the streets, because we did not want to take the car out of the car park and lose our place on a busy day, and walked across Tarragona in the blazing heat to the Mossos de Squadra headquarters, which turned out to be on the other side of the city, much further away than the Policia National. (The police forces in Spain are even more complicated than in France.) Here despite our almost total lack of Spanish or Catalan (the language of Tarragona) we managed to report the theft and get a theft-report form. Strangely, when I looked at it the computer had managed to pick up details from the report made in April 2007 in Barcelona. When I pointed it out, they were quite unmoved and said that it did not make any difference.
We walked round the corner and went for Buck’s Fizz at my daughter’s flat.
When we returned to France, the report was accepted without query and we went again through all the forms and payments intended to restore our papers to us again. In Tarragona, my son most kindly bought me another camera, identical with the one stolen, and I was able to keep my cool and enjoy the wedding which was delightful.
But from now on my bag strap stays across my shoulders, and the bag rests on my lap. When I am in towns, it will stay clamped under my elbow as well as the strap being slung across my body.
POSTSCRIPT
A day of two later my sister phoned me to say that as she and her husband were driving north to France around Barcelona, they heard a horrid thump under the car. They were naturally alarmed, and then a scruffy BMW drew level with them. There were four “gipsy-ish” types in it all leaning out of the windows and gesticulating wildly at the bottom of the car.
She remembered my experience on the same motorway and decided not to stop, but accelerated to the next service area, with the men still waving and pointing at the underneath of their car. When they pulled into the service station, the BMW veered away and continued on up the motorway.
My brother-in-law reckons that they threw something like a ball bearing under the car to make the thump. My sister is only glad that the recent experience in Tarragona had bought the previous theft on the Barcelona motorway to her mind.
But it makes one aware of the prevalence of theft in the main tourist areas of Spain. This is something we tend to forget living out here in a quiet corner of the Agly valley.
Wherever one goes nowadays, taking care of one’s personal belongings and avoiding situations like quiet streets where a holdup is possible, is very important. Travelling alone is risky unless one is familiar with the cities and situations there – such as the underground, and displaying wallets full of cards is never a good idea.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!!!!!!!!!
© Gill Williams July 2009
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Millau viaduct
