Within 15 minutes of arriving in Rome, we were robbed. In all my years of traveling, I have never had anything stolen, but less than 24 hours after touching down in Italy, Megan’s wallet was snatched. Occurring so early in our trip, the theft tended to negatively color our impressions of the eternal city. Seen through the lens of anger, the city appeared dirty, the citizens untrustworthy, and the historic sites decrepit. With time, our harsh assessment would soften, but it was a difficult introduction to Italy.
Our Italian adventure actually began in Bologna, where we touched down on Thursday afternoon. Arriving before my parents, we took a cab to our hotel. The plan went off smoothly and we soon found ourselves checked in at the Jolly Hotel in the heart of Bologna. Once we settled in, I rushed to a nearby travel agengy to pick up our train tickets to Rome for the next morning. Utilizing my limited Italian, I stopped several times and eventually found the office just in time to claim our tickets.
On Thursday evening, we wandered the lovely streets of Bologna in search of food. We were rendered incapable of choosing due to the large number of options, as well as the steep prices. The walk itself was pleasant as the young residents of the city were out strolling the streets, window shopping, and meeting friends in the piazza. Eventually, we settled on a self-service restaurant that resembled a cafeteria, where we ate some tasty pasta along with a passable house wine.
The next morning, we rose early and walked across the street to the train station. We waited on the platform for nearly an hour as the smoke from cigarettes filled the cold morning air. Finding our seats on the train, in a small six-seat compartment with three seats facing each other, we settled in and enjoyed the scenic view passing by the window. The train raced through green rolling hills and passed through cavernous tunnels. After nearly three hours, we finally arrived in Rome.
We had booked a room at a bed and breakfast, so at the train station we purchased passes for the metro. We were careful to watch our bags since all three of our guidebooks warned of pickpockets. We rode the subway six stops to our B&B located near Vatican City. The owner of the room met us on the street and guided us through a courtyard and up to the apartment that served as our hotel. As Megan opened her purse in an attempt to help pay, panic washed over both of us as we realized that her wallet was gone. At first, I thought that it might have been misplaced in another of her bags, but we soon realized that it was in fact gone. Fortunately, we noticed its absence within 15 minutes of it going missing since she certainly had it at the train station. She proceeded to call home to cancel her credit cards, but the anger and sense of violation surpassed the loss of the money.
Looking back on how it could have happened, we both agreed that a group of well-dressed high school aged girls were the likely thieves. We were obviously tourists since we were toting our bags on the metro and would have made natural targets. In retrospect, we were dumb to have stood near the doors (there were no seats available) and we shouldn’t have spoken in English. On the crowded metro, people were constantly brushing up against us and, when getting off the train, one of the girls bumped into Megan. When this happened, one of the other girls probably opened her purse and swiped her wallet. The fact that Megan had her purse slung across her chest and that the robbery happened without either of us knowing is impressive. The pickpockets even zipped her purse back up so that we didn’t suspect anything until we arrived at the B&B. Her digital camera which was also in her purse was untouched.
Already suffering from jet lag, the theft sent both of us through a range of emotions. Initially, we both experienced shock that it could have happened. We do not consider ourselves naive and have both traveled extensively. The shock soon gave way to anger. We were frustrated that neither of us saw anything and we were annoyed that we had not had a chance to confront the criminals. This led to plans of retribution. We considered spending a day on the metro with nothing but a mousetrap tucked into a purse and took solace in images of the perpetrator writhing in pain with their hand in a trap. Next, we felt foolish for not being more vigilant and for becoming victims. Finally, we accepted that it had occurred, although we continued to be annoyed and angry that it had happened.
Contributing to our frustration, the police in Rome were beyond useless. We visited at least ten different stations in an attempt to simply report the theft. Some stations were completely closed so that we were never able to talk to anyone. Other stations told us that they were closed for lunch and to come back in a few hours (note: when in Rome, do not get murdered between 12:00 noon and 3:00 pm). In those stations where police did show up for work, we were typically directed to a different station. In the train station alone, we were sent to three different police stations, the last of which a group of portly police officers stood outside smoking. When we asked them where we could report a theft, they instructed us to push a button on an intercom. Following their instructions we received no answer. Each cop that walked out of the station provided the same advice and then proceeded to stand idly by chatting with their fellow keepers of the peace. Eventually, someone inside the station became annoyed enough with our constant pressing of the button that they told us that the station was closed and to come back later. Most frustrating of all is that all we wanted to do was fill out a form – any form – to report that Megan’s wallet was stolen. Partially, we wanted to do this if we needed evidence for the credit card companies and partially we felt that this was the right thing to do. We harbored no illusions that we would see the wallet again. We just wanted to do something and the incompetence and inefficiency on the part of Rome’s finest only contributed to an already frustrating experience. During our ill-fated quest, we met a Dutch couple who had also had their wallets stolen, along with their passports. We took consolation in the fact that we still had both of our passports. Finally, on our last day in Rome, we eventually found a police station that was willing to give us a form to complete. The entire process took about five minutes.
While roaming the city being rebuffed by every police station, we did manage to see some of Rome. On Friday afternoon, we walked along the Tiber River, watching the sunset from the Spanish Steps. For dinner, we grabbed pizza and enjoyed our second gelato of the day. We went to bed early and rose at the crack of dawn on Saturday to beat the crowds to the Vatican. Arriving around 7:30 am, we reveled in having Vatican City almost entirely to ourselves. Without so much as waiting in line, we breezed through St. Peter’s Basilica. Sadly, by 9:30 am, the crowds began to appear and we waited in a manageable line for the Sistine Chapel and Vatican Museums. Next, we embarked on a bus tour of Rome that took us to many of the famous sites. Afterwards, we visited Trevi Fountain. In keeping with our poor run of luck in Rome, after throwing the requisite coin into the fountain, Megan was hit in the head by an errant throw from another superstitious, though inaccurate, tourist. Following a nice lunch of pizza and coffee, we proceeded to the eerie Cappucin Crypt, a short tunnel underneath a church that features several exhibits of thousands of bones artistically arranged. The day ended with the always delicious gelato.
On Sunday, we once again took advantage of jet lag and rose early to beat the crowds. Again, we were rewarded with no lines as we entered the Coliseum. In retrospect, we determined that Rome is a wonderful place without Romans or tourists. After the Coliseum, we walked around the surrounding area and viewed the Forum. In the afternoon, we caught a train back to Bologna, passing the time watching movies.
Looking back on our visit to Rome, we were glad to have seen so many of the wonderful and famous sites that the city has to offer. We often felt overwhelmed by the vast number of historical sites throughout the city. It seemed as if we were rushing from one place to the next in an attempt to see everything. In this way, Rome seemed like an amusement park and the style of traveling represented the kind of tourism that I despise. The theft of Megan’s wallet early on in our trip certainly detracted from our enjoyment of the city and, throughout our stay, we could not avoid holding a strong distrust for those around us. Whenever someone came near us or accidentally brushed up against us, we delivered a sharp elbow.
It is sad that one negative experience cast a shadow over our three days in Rome, but our general impressions of the city – that it is littered with trash and graffiti, that the people are ill-mannered and inconsiderate – was no doubt the result of our frustration with our circumstances. Occasionally, we would break free of our anger and witness a moment of beauty. For me, this came when we were away from the crowds and from the sites that are featured on postcards. Instead, my best memories of Rome are of walking with Megan down narrow, winding streets, admiring the incredible detail of the unheralded architecture, and of knowing that we would have two weeks in this lovely country.