The smattering of shiny crystals on the ground next to the drivers’ door was the first clue something was wrong. My then nine-year-old daughter Emmie and I had just walked to our car after a wander around Girona’s old town and a quick bite of patatas bravas in a cobblestone courtyard. We hadn’t been gone much more than an hour.
“Mum, is that glass?! Is that our window?” My heart raced as we walked closer.
I stared into the gap where the glass had been. The middle of the window was broken through, and fragments clung to the edges. Yep, that was glass. Our car window was on in pieces on the ground and scattered across the drivers’ seat.
‘Oh shit,’ I thought. ‘The luggage.”
We’d left almost everything we owned in the boot of this hire car.
The window was smashed almost completely out.
Emmie and I had been on a little adventure, driving around Catalonia together for the previous week. It’s an autonomous region in north eastern Spain, and we’d had the most incredible time exploring the Costa Brava coastline, climbing volcanos, visiting medieval towns and cycling along railway tracks. We had eaten the most exquisite food and I’d loved the wine and the friendliness of everyone we met.
We were there to work with the Catalonia Tourism Board so I had all my gear with me. My computer, drone, camera, GoPro and kindle plus Emmie’s electronics. Our travel clothes were packed and I’d bought some new ‘good clothes’ for the trip – there was no way we could eat out in Spain in our old traveling gear. Everything, from Emmie’s best friend Blair the travel penguin to our passports, was in the bags that we’d left in the boot of the car.
Emmie was in tears: “Mum what happened? Was it robbers? Are they coming for us?”
“No, Emmie we are fine hon. It’s all okay,” I gave her a hug and explained what had happened. “Some people have broken into our car. But we’re okay and that’s all that matters.”
The boot though. Oh, the boot.
“I think they’ve probably taken all our gear though Emmie. I think it’s probably all gone. Let’s check the boot.”
“Oh no mum, no,” she clung to my hand, her voice rising.
We walked to the back of the car and the boot – the irony of beeping off the car lock when it had been broken into. I pressed the button and lifted the boot open.
It was empty.
The boot, only hours ago packed with our cases was now empty
Only hours earlier I’d packed our two roller cases and a daypack and now they were gone. Our bag of all our clothes, toiletries and gear was gone. My bag of all our electronics – oh God my hard-drive and SD cards with all our photos – everything was gone. And we’d made it so easy for them to just wheel off with everything.
All they’d left was the half empty bottle of wine I’d brought with us from our last stop at the beachside town of Cadaques. Bottoms up.
So, we took stock. We had: A half empty bottle of wine (at least they’d left me that), the clothes we were wearing, my phone, my wallet and the car keys.
A kind stranger showed us the way to the police station where we made our statement and got a copy of the police report. The policewomen were so kind to Emmie, letting her wear their hats and telling her how brave she was. They offered clothes from their daughters’ wardrobes and made sure we were okay.
Then, all we could do was drive the car to the rental office (they were so understanding) get a new one, and drive back to Barcelona and to our hotel.
I was calm. So calm. What’s done is done right? We couldn’t turn back time and park elsewhere or not stop in Girona, or not have a fancy rental car with the brands’ sticker on the boot.
We had loved our time in Girona, and had come back for a visit on our way to Barcelona
Lessons learnt for the future. There was no point messing up my head about ‘what if’ right now.
And I had a nine-year-old with me. This was probably my best chance so far to show her how to deal with a crisis. No drama, no anger, and certainly no time for helplessness. As long as we were okay – and God knows if we’d arrived back at the car earlier it could have been a different story – then our world was good.
I gave Emmie lots of cuddles and love and support to talk through how she was feeling but I remained positive and measured. It was fine. It was just stuff – stuff I couldn’t afford to replace, but just stuff after-all.
Back in Barcelona we met with the Australian Consul General who managed to get us approval to fly without passports, as it would have taken weeks to get Emmie’s dad’s approval sent over for an emergency one.
We would be able to get our flight – and so we spent the next few days exploring Barcelona – and buying undies, toothbrushes and basics to get us through.
We still explored back in Barcelona…
We left Spain with two pieces of paper – a photocopy of our stolen passports and a letter from the Australian Government confirming we were who we said we were.
Can you imagine returning from a European holiday with a nothing but a piece of paper and a plastic shopping bag of everything you own? That’s all we had.
As anyone who has been robbed would know, it takes months to remember and list everything that has been stolen.
But our insurance didn’t cover us for any valuables left in the car anyway, and had a $2000 limit on reimbursing anything. Unbelievable, right? I had no idea we weren’t covered.
I couldn’t afford to replace everything, but as I thought about it, I wasn’t sure I wanted to anyway.
I bought a new computer – I needed it so I could work – and Emmie needed a new iPad and pen for her online schooling with Distance Education.
But what else did I really need to replace? I would have loved to have all my stuff back, of course, but was this just another lesson in how little we needed to be happy.
I mean, I loved having a drone and a GoPro but that was adding another layer to how I viewed the world. Whenever we were traveling, as soon as we arrived somewhere new I was scoping for land shots, drone shots from above, for underwater shots or video with my GoPro. It was too much, and it was creating a barrier to the simple life I wanted to live, and to seeing the world with my eyes and heart. I was getting lost in capturing everything I saw (and not very well) and having my time taken up by needing to photograph or film what I was seeing – and it just wasn’t necessary.
So I made a decision to get a small camera only. No more drone. No more GoPro. No more thousands of SD cards and hard drives. We would reduce the amount of clothes we needed even further and travel with only carry-on backpacks in future.
It was freeing. I allowed myself to have less and I became so much calmer. I no longer felt like things had been taken from us in the robbery. Being robbed had just released me from the pressure I’d put upon myself.
And while our clothes were all most likely dumped, and our electronics stashed on a fast boat to Morocco within hours, I can think of it without pain and anxiety, and focus on what it taught me.
It’s so true that less is more. Having less creates more – more time in my day, more space in my life and in my head, and a greater awareness of being present. The less I have, the less I need.
It’s just stuff.
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NOTE – after on-going discussions the insurance company, about six months later they increased their offer of compensation. It was about half of what we had lost and I took it.