Yes, I was fully in love with Venice, I was planning to bring Ian back and wander the city and 'find' things and maybe just move here, learn Italian, live on pasta, become an Artisan or a poet.....
Then I looked down and every zip on the inside and the outside of my bag was open and I was 2 passports and a heap of Euros lighter!
You know that moment when suddenly the beauty and the excitement of something is spoiled irretrievably? That was my moment. I felt like I had swallowed a bucket of concrete and kept looking into my bag and into all 5 unzipped pockets, inside and out, to see if I had made a mistake. Unfortunately I had not and had to go into plan mode for what I was going to do.
I checked out what was actually left in my bag- lucky me! Those of you that know me, will know that my bag is less like a handbag and more like an archeological dig. I still had all the seriously important stuff like my old lipstick, my receipt from Philip who did up our lounge suite, a couple of Countdown receipts, two padlocks (for the bridge in Paris) and.......... a billfold with credit cards and a drivers licence - whooo whooo! My phone was also still tucked in the unzipped front pocket, along with emergency eye wrinkle cream and some pain killers in case my back did its thing!
Next step- tell the cops! We went to the square and I said to a policeman 'do you speak English?' after much gesticulating a lovely young man stepped forward and I told him what had happened. Next thing, Alex were surrounded by 4 gun toting, burly policemen (bit late) and we were escorted to the police station, up and down the sinister little alleys with all the people pointing and looking at us like we had been caught trying to steal Saint Mark's Basilica!
We were dropped by the young policemen back at the cop shop after a 10 minute walk, where I discussed New Zealand in broken English.
After a wait we were escorted into the station complete with its guns, helmets and riot shields stacked against the wall and had to, again in broken English, fill out the forms. All good until we got to the question about where....? I had no idea, so as luck would have it there was a big flat screen TV with CCTV cameras from all angles. I took my pen and leaned across the back of the hard drive and pointed at the area where I noticed the loss. In my lean, my not insubstantial chest hit either the keyboard or the back of the hard drive and I fritzed the system. It crashed and the screen went blank and all the CCTV cameras went off line!!! There was much exclaiming and gesticulating that I really didn't get but was pretty much certain they weren't saying "lets keep this lovely New Zealand lady for a bit longer......"
Our forms were hurriedly filled out, copied and not a smile was had and finally as we were lead out I lamely pointed at the still blank system and said 'Sorry about that......" to which the policeman said "Sorry"
I am still uncertain if he meant "sorry for your thieft" or "SORRY DON'T CUT IT" but we left before more translation could occur.
I got out the door and said to the others waiting "quick, lets get out of here" before the hysteria that was creeping up on me could take over and I would giggle my way out!
Jan, in the meantime was getting friendly with the soldiers that guard the Polizia, so there was an upside!
Then I looked down and every zip on the inside and the outside of my bag was open and I was 2 passports and a heap of Euros lighter!
You know that moment when suddenly the beauty and the excitement of something is spoiled irretrievably? That was my moment. I felt like I had swallowed a bucket of concrete and kept looking into my bag and into all 5 unzipped pockets, inside and out, to see if I had made a mistake. Unfortunately I had not and had to go into plan mode for what I was going to do.
I checked out what was actually left in my bag- lucky me! Those of you that know me, will know that my bag is less like a handbag and more like an archeological dig. I still had all the seriously important stuff like my old lipstick, my receipt from Philip who did up our lounge suite, a couple of Countdown receipts, two padlocks (for the bridge in Paris) and.......... a billfold with credit cards and a drivers licence - whooo whooo! My phone was also still tucked in the unzipped front pocket, along with emergency eye wrinkle cream and some pain killers in case my back did its thing!
Next step- tell the cops! We went to the square and I said to a policeman 'do you speak English?' after much gesticulating a lovely young man stepped forward and I told him what had happened. Next thing, Alex were surrounded by 4 gun toting, burly policemen (bit late) and we were escorted to the police station, up and down the sinister little alleys with all the people pointing and looking at us like we had been caught trying to steal Saint Mark's Basilica!We were dropped by the young policemen back at the cop shop after a 10 minute walk, where I discussed New Zealand in broken English.
After a wait we were escorted into the station complete with its guns, helmets and riot shields stacked against the wall and had to, again in broken English, fill out the forms. All good until we got to the question about where....? I had no idea, so as luck would have it there was a big flat screen TV with CCTV cameras from all angles. I took my pen and leaned across the back of the hard drive and pointed at the area where I noticed the loss. In my lean, my not insubstantial chest hit either the keyboard or the back of the hard drive and I fritzed the system. It crashed and the screen went blank and all the CCTV cameras went off line!!! There was much exclaiming and gesticulating that I really didn't get but was pretty much certain they weren't saying "lets keep this lovely New Zealand lady for a bit longer......"
I am still uncertain if he meant "sorry for your thieft" or "SORRY DON'T CUT IT" but we left before more translation could occur.
I got out the door and said to the others waiting "quick, lets get out of here" before the hysteria that was creeping up on me could take over and I would giggle my way out!
Jan, in the meantime was getting friendly with the soldiers that guard the Polizia, so there was an upside!
Told you. Italy is famous for their thieving bastards. It will happen everywhere. Try to blend in more. Look around and see why you look like a target.
ReplyDeleteStrap everything to you body! Also your big camera makes you stand out. Love you. Xoxoxo o
ReplyDeleteBag worn in the front - looks super dorky, but way safer than having it behind you or on the ground.. And hold it to you when walking through large crowds. And more photos of Italian men in uniform - might not help your situation, but may help someone else's, hahaha!
ReplyDelete