(no subject)
Oh my goodness, what a lot I have to tell you about!
I got back from Spain yesterday. Two weeks early. And deeply pissed off. Ten minutes after getting to Spain we were robbed, well over a thousand pounds of stuff was stolen and since travel insurance is RUBBISH, we're gonna end up hundreds of pounds out of pocket. After getting off the night train from Paris, we went looking for the Left Luggage at Barcelona Estacion de Franca but it was shut. It was shut!!! If only the fucking Spanish could be a bit more like the Germans and actually run a train station properly, none of this mess would ever have happened.
So, there we were with all of our bags at 9AM. We went and stood outside and I rang the hostal we were booked in to to see if we could come over and dump our bags. Like an IDIOT I took my bag off, as did Mum. However, they were right next to us. After I'd hung up, this guy walked past and dropped his keys. Being as I am a lovely person I picked them up and tried to give them back to him but he walked off. I followed him. While I was doing this, another guy came from another direction and started babbling at my Mum in Spanish (which she doesn't know). She turned to call me. While she was turned away, someone else came from behind and took our backpacks. It all happened so fast. It was all so planned. So deliberate. So evil.
As soon as she noticed, my Mum went hysterical...lots of running around and weeping and such. I was just to keep her under control and took her into the customer services section of the station, who were useless. You'd think they'd know what to do: after all, this is a train station in one of Europe's most crime-ridden cities! They must see this all the time. Well, we had to go find a police station, which involved blagging a free ride on the metro. Three hours, and a lot of speaking Spanish, later I had my police report. Let's just say it's a longun. Those bags had EVERYTHING in them:
ALL of our cash.
ALL of our cards.
ALL of our rail tickets.
BOTH our passports.
ALL the details of the hotels and such.
The digital camera.
My MP3 player.
Mum's mobile phone.
It was terrible. We had absolutely NO money. Thankfully I had put my mobile in my pocket after ringing the hostal so we still had that. We rang my sister and she found out some stuff about the consulate in Barcelona. It was Sunday. It was shut. To get passports on that day would have cost €300. We had no money. Since could remember the details of the hostal we were meant to be staying at we headed there. By foot. It took well over half an hour, with me carrying my rucksack and pulling mum's suitcase. It was SO hot and incredibly humid. Eventually we got there and I pleaded our case. The woman who owns the hostal was really nice and let us stay.
Mum had calmed down a bit by this point but she was still really distraught. She had a lie down and we had showers and then we decided to head on out to have a look at the Parc Guell, one of Gaudi's best creations. It was dead cool, but Mum was just not OK. She was...well. You don't know her. She was just being all Mum-y. I know I should be more sympathetic, but I was really holding it together and just wanted to get on with the holiday and she was being all negative. Obviously it's horrid, but you really have to just rise above these things. Keep on going. Keep on having fun. She just didn't seem able to. I guess she's old. Adults get all serious about these things. I just don't geddit.
Anyhoo, to move on. We had no money. And therefore no food. Thankfully there was a bit of stuff in the Mum's suitcase: dry crackers, cookies and some Minstrels. That was dinner. And breakfast. Monday morning we walked to the British consulate to try and get new passports. Unfortunately this was not as easy as I'd hoped. Obviously you have to pay for emergency passports, but we had no money. We were able to be sent some money by our card protection schemes, but couldn't get it without passports.
NO MONEY, NO PASSPORTS, NO PASSPORTS, NO MONEY.
Shit. So, to cut a long story short, we had to get someone at home to pay. It took six hours to sort out. Six hours in the consulate - a small office. Horrid.
Once we had our emergency passports (just bits of paper, only valid for the journey home) we were able to get some money and had a nice day and a half in Barcelona. Well, minus the bit where we spent three hours going out to the airport to get ourselves tickets home...we'd decided that we couldn't really carry on. Mum was still really upset and that was getting to me. What's more, I'm off to Israel in three weeks and was now sans passport, and thus sans Syrain visa. It was all a bit blergh.
I'm gutted about the whole thing. I'd put so much work in to organising that holiday and now it's all been ruined. I'd been comforting myself with the thought that at least we'd be able to claim loads of it back on the insurance, but now it looks like this isn't the case. They'll only cover the value of what was in the bags, not any of the losses assosicated with cancelling the rest of the holday. Even worse, for some reason they lump passports and train tickets in the same category and set a ridiculous limit of £100 per person on it. We lost £300 worth of rail pass, had to spend £130 getting emergency passports, and I know need to spend £100 getting a new passport and Syrian visa. All in all it looks like we'll be hundreds of pounds short.
I just feel so stupid. I know that "these things happen" and that "hindsight is a wonderful thing" but it's little comfort. I should NEVER have put that bag down. Barcelona is famous for this. I am just such a fucking idiot. Ergh!
Anyhoo, there's nothing to be done now. I simply have to wait for the claim form to arrive and then see how much we can claw back from the shitters. I have a feeling I'm really gonna end up hating insurers soon. I feel a fight coming on...and I'm fucking ready for it. (Yes, I know I will lose).
I other news, my father has got back in touch, asking me to go to France with them...more musing on this theme soon. Oh, and I have an infestation of bedbugs. Yay!
What is it they saying about raining and pouring...? :-p
XXX
OAO
XXX
I got back from Spain yesterday. Two weeks early. And deeply pissed off. Ten minutes after getting to Spain we were robbed, well over a thousand pounds of stuff was stolen and since travel insurance is RUBBISH, we're gonna end up hundreds of pounds out of pocket. After getting off the night train from Paris, we went looking for the Left Luggage at Barcelona Estacion de Franca but it was shut. It was shut!!! If only the fucking Spanish could be a bit more like the Germans and actually run a train station properly, none of this mess would ever have happened.
So, there we were with all of our bags at 9AM. We went and stood outside and I rang the hostal we were booked in to to see if we could come over and dump our bags. Like an IDIOT I took my bag off, as did Mum. However, they were right next to us. After I'd hung up, this guy walked past and dropped his keys. Being as I am a lovely person I picked them up and tried to give them back to him but he walked off. I followed him. While I was doing this, another guy came from another direction and started babbling at my Mum in Spanish (which she doesn't know). She turned to call me. While she was turned away, someone else came from behind and took our backpacks. It all happened so fast. It was all so planned. So deliberate. So evil.
As soon as she noticed, my Mum went hysterical...lots of running around and weeping and such. I was just to keep her under control and took her into the customer services section of the station, who were useless. You'd think they'd know what to do: after all, this is a train station in one of Europe's most crime-ridden cities! They must see this all the time. Well, we had to go find a police station, which involved blagging a free ride on the metro. Three hours, and a lot of speaking Spanish, later I had my police report. Let's just say it's a longun. Those bags had EVERYTHING in them:
ALL of our cash.
ALL of our cards.
ALL of our rail tickets.
BOTH our passports.
ALL the details of the hotels and such.
The digital camera.
My MP3 player.
Mum's mobile phone.
It was terrible. We had absolutely NO money. Thankfully I had put my mobile in my pocket after ringing the hostal so we still had that. We rang my sister and she found out some stuff about the consulate in Barcelona. It was Sunday. It was shut. To get passports on that day would have cost €300. We had no money. Since could remember the details of the hostal we were meant to be staying at we headed there. By foot. It took well over half an hour, with me carrying my rucksack and pulling mum's suitcase. It was SO hot and incredibly humid. Eventually we got there and I pleaded our case. The woman who owns the hostal was really nice and let us stay.
Mum had calmed down a bit by this point but she was still really distraught. She had a lie down and we had showers and then we decided to head on out to have a look at the Parc Guell, one of Gaudi's best creations. It was dead cool, but Mum was just not OK. She was...well. You don't know her. She was just being all Mum-y. I know I should be more sympathetic, but I was really holding it together and just wanted to get on with the holiday and she was being all negative. Obviously it's horrid, but you really have to just rise above these things. Keep on going. Keep on having fun. She just didn't seem able to. I guess she's old. Adults get all serious about these things. I just don't geddit.
Anyhoo, to move on. We had no money. And therefore no food. Thankfully there was a bit of stuff in the Mum's suitcase: dry crackers, cookies and some Minstrels. That was dinner. And breakfast. Monday morning we walked to the British consulate to try and get new passports. Unfortunately this was not as easy as I'd hoped. Obviously you have to pay for emergency passports, but we had no money. We were able to be sent some money by our card protection schemes, but couldn't get it without passports.
NO MONEY, NO PASSPORTS, NO PASSPORTS, NO MONEY.
Shit. So, to cut a long story short, we had to get someone at home to pay. It took six hours to sort out. Six hours in the consulate - a small office. Horrid.
Once we had our emergency passports (just bits of paper, only valid for the journey home) we were able to get some money and had a nice day and a half in Barcelona. Well, minus the bit where we spent three hours going out to the airport to get ourselves tickets home...we'd decided that we couldn't really carry on. Mum was still really upset and that was getting to me. What's more, I'm off to Israel in three weeks and was now sans passport, and thus sans Syrain visa. It was all a bit blergh.
I'm gutted about the whole thing. I'd put so much work in to organising that holiday and now it's all been ruined. I'd been comforting myself with the thought that at least we'd be able to claim loads of it back on the insurance, but now it looks like this isn't the case. They'll only cover the value of what was in the bags, not any of the losses assosicated with cancelling the rest of the holday. Even worse, for some reason they lump passports and train tickets in the same category and set a ridiculous limit of £100 per person on it. We lost £300 worth of rail pass, had to spend £130 getting emergency passports, and I know need to spend £100 getting a new passport and Syrian visa. All in all it looks like we'll be hundreds of pounds short.
I just feel so stupid. I know that "these things happen" and that "hindsight is a wonderful thing" but it's little comfort. I should NEVER have put that bag down. Barcelona is famous for this. I am just such a fucking idiot. Ergh!
Anyhoo, there's nothing to be done now. I simply have to wait for the claim form to arrive and then see how much we can claw back from the shitters. I have a feeling I'm really gonna end up hating insurers soon. I feel a fight coming on...and I'm fucking ready for it. (Yes, I know I will lose).
I other news, my father has got back in touch, asking me to go to France with them...more musing on this theme soon. Oh, and I have an infestation of bedbugs. Yay!
What is it they saying about raining and pouring...? :-p
XXX
OAO
XXX