YOUR HOLIDAY DISASTER
Robbed in Europe's safest city! A break to Lisbon took a dark twist.
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Your support makes all the difference.I was told it was the safest capital in Europe. We needed to re- charge our batteries, so Lisbon seemed just the place for a weekend break. Although exhausted, my wife and I planned to leave after work on Friday.
We arrived at our hotel weary but keen to soak up what atmosphere we could. On our first night we explored the red light district which our guide book assured us was where the action was - the best restaurants and authentic ambience where we would find the best exponents of fado, a style of bar singing which combines the drama of opera with the passion of flamenco.
The most popular fado bar was spilling out onto the dimly-lit street and seemed to promise the real thing. We attached ourselves to the edge of the throng and craned our necks to see a woman of a certain age putting her heart into it, accompanied by a guitar player and an accordionist.
During warm applause a small group stepped up behind us and I felt a hand brush against my pocket. I felt for my wallet in my jacket. The pocket was empty. I patted all my pockets to discover I was now, on my first night in Lisbon, penniless. Anger broke out of me like a sweat as I tried to will the missing wallet out of the newcomers who now surrounded us. I stepped back and quickly pushed all three men into the bar shouting at them to return my wallet. The fado singer began to sing again and the musicians were giving me some angry looks and some serious sssshhhh-ing. "No one leaves until I get my wallet back," I yelled.
I must have made a ridiculous sight standing in the doorway with pointing fingers and accusatory looks. I shouted over to the barman to telephone the police but he just joined the communal ssshhh. But I soon brought the whole event to a halt. Nobody would get away with this. I stood there for 15 minutes as guard to what was obviously a silent conspiracy to frisk the British.
Finally my wife, who was beginning to fear for my safety (not to mention my sanity), spotted a policeman on the street and called him over. I left my post at the door of the bar and tried to explain what had happened. I told him that I expected him to search everyone. The police officer questioned some people in the bar who were now beginning to leave, but with little purpose it seemed to me. I knew the situation was lost. I decided to accept defeat, register the theft and get on with the holiday since we still had my wife's credit card. I completed the necessary bureaucracy and spent the remainder of the evening in the hotel phone booth trying to cancel all my credit cards.
By this time I looked forward to sleeping like a baby. At 3am in the hotel room I undressed slowly, enjoying the sensation of every peeled layer, emptying pockets as I did so: a few loose coins, some tissues, spent ticket stubs ... and my wallet.
To this day I do not know how I overlooked the wallet that was so clearly in my jacket pocket. Of course, I have an intricate theory that involves the replacing of the wallet between the time of the theft and the arrival of the police - but nobody will believe me. We made ourselves scarce in the red light district for the remainder of the weekend in the capital city that is the safest in Europe.
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the Travel Editor, Holiday Disasters, Independent on Sunday, 1 Canada Square, Canary Wharf, London E14 5DL
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