Monday, February 17, 2014

That One Time I Was Robbed In Spain

Stone Lion. Part of the monument to King Alfonso XII in Retiro Park.

**To get robbed sounds traumatic and scary, so technically I had my belongings stolen and was never confronted by a robber.

Dan took me to Madrid for the weekend. It was amazing! Except for when I was robbed. It wasn’t my wallet, credit cards or passport thank goodness. However, it was my warm (and adorable) mittens, sunnies, iphone and brand new DSLR (with about 200 amaze pictures of the city).

I mean, we should have seen it coming, with almost getting pick pocketed that morning (I literally saw her thieving fingers about to go into Dan’s pocket) and refusing to buy twigs the gypsies were selling promising buena suerte.

Thieves are very prevalent in Spain, so I was damn aware the entire time. Expect a fleeting and regretful moment when my purse hung on my chair while I ate. Poof. Gone.

I allowed myself to be very sad (also see: hysterically crying) just briefly. Then, I had to get over it. I’m living such an amazing life with a pretty awesome dude, so if that’s the worst thing that happens to me- I’m doing all right.

Moral of the story: watch you shit when you travel.
And stay tuned for the adventures of Madrid posts coming soon! 

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