Arrival in Athens and a Cautionary Tale
I left Thessaloniki knowing that I hadn’t fully taken advantage of my two short stays there. I made a mental note to come back in the near future. While I don’t know exactly when that will be, I’ll let the ideas tumble around in my head until I can turn it into a concrete plan. This thought was further reinforced during a conversation with George, the taxi driver, as he drove me to the airport. He mentioned all the places I “should have” visited while I was there. Oh well, there’s always next time!
The wait at Thessaloniki Airport was pleasant and far less frenetic than Athens Airport – today anyway. Once we had boarded, the flight took off into a cloudless sky in the direction of Athens. My window seat offered me the most incredible panoramas over Thessaloniki. I couldn’t have had a better view of the three peninsulas of Halkidiki backed by the magnificent Mount Athos. The route took us over the Sporades and across Evia before coming in to land at Athens.
I’d arranged an airport transfer with Welcome Pickups, whose drivers I find are always a cut above the rest. I’m glad I did because I’ve made yet another good contact with Lefteris who I arranged my return airport transfer with too.
Ah, the Attalos Hotel – it has become such a home away from home over the years. I’ve been staying here for over a decade. I liked it so much that when I started working for Hidden Greece, I added it to our portfolio of hotels. It is now a favourite with my clients too. It certainly can’t be beaten for location and has the benefit of a roof terrace with an Acropolis view – not bad for a budget hotel.
After checking in, I took the lift to my room on the 5th floor – a spacious double room with a balcony overlooking Athinas Street. I rarely go out onto the balcony because of my ever-worsening vertigo. It has become even more debilitating over the years.
Before going out for dinner, I went up to the roof terrace to take in the view of the Acropolis, a spectacle that still invokes a feeling of awe and wonder.
At around 18:30, I headed into Psyri, the historic and fashionable neighbourhood behind the hotel. Almost on autopilot, I found myself on the street of Agios Anargiron looking for a nice traditional taverna to eat at. I like Symposio Sto Psyri but the restaurant was very busy. Across the road was another taverna I’d eaten at before, En Iordani, one of the oldest tavernas in Athens (so it claims). I took a table outside and perused the menu – I was ravenous! After placing my order, I took out my phone to check my emails and messages – I was still working whilst travelling, so I needed to touch base periodically.
Whilst waiting for my meal, a man appeared from behind and started talking to me over my shoulder. When I turned, I could see from his dishevelled appearance that he was a beggar and asking for money. I had almost exhausted my supply of small change, so I knew that I didn’t have anything to give him. Trying to make him understand this was challenging. He began waving a sheet of paper in front of me, flapping it about so quickly that I couldn’t even see what was written on it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make him understand, so when reasoning failed, I was left with no choice but to try and ignore him.
Despite his persistence, he eventually seemed to realise I wouldn’t (couldn’t) give him any money. Before he walked away, he flicked the paper at me whilst making a weird hissing sound in my ear. He had probably just cursed me – but I’ve been cursed before. It’s like water off a duck’s back (though it may answer a lot of questions!) Less than a minute after he left, I realised that my phone had gone. Just to be sure, I checked my bag and under the table, but it most definitely wasn’t there.
The realisation that I’d just been robbed hit me like a ton of bricks. I stood to see if I could catch sight of the man, but he’d managed to disappear into the busy, crowded streets of Psyri.
I still have a bit of PTSD whilst writing this post, and it still conjures up feelings of anxiety, but more than anything, regret. This isn’t the first time I’ve been robbed in Athens. As a regular visitor, I should have known better. God knows I always tell my clients to be extra cautious with their possessions in Athens. The distraction technique that the man had used was classic. I’d made the mistake of letting my guard down, as brief as it was, and I paid the price. Solo female travellers, especially of a certain age, are considered easy prey.
I was momentarily at a loss what to do. The only practical thing I could think of was to tell the restaurant owner, more for advice than anything. He wasn’t shocked and was very apologetic – not that it was his fault. We both knew that there was nothing that either of us could do. He did, however, offer to call the police. Initially, this seemed like a fruitless task, but from a practical point of view, it may help me to get a crime reference number for an insurance claim.
I took my place back at the table, still in disbelief. Whilst waiting, the waiter brought the meal to the table. He told me that the police had been called and were on their way. I felt sick to my stomach so food was now the last thing on my mind. However, the wine was just what I needed to calm my nerves.
After 10 minutes or so, I heard the rumbling of motorbikes. It was unusual to see vehicles on this busy, narrow street. As I turned, I saw not one but four policemen astride two motorbikes. Everyone’s heads turned to watch as the waiter directed them to my table. I felt embarrassed at the attention this had drawn and guilty for pulling four policemen away from more serious crimes.
I regailed them with the details. I’ll give them their due, they heard me out and asked me questions, but this was an all too a familiar scenario for them. After scribbling a few notes down, they told me that I would need to report the incident to the tourist police and I would also need to go with my phone’s IMEI number. There’s the first challenge – how do I get my IMEI number without my phone? Anyway, they gave me directions to the police station and off they went.
I paid for my untouched meal and walked back to the hotel. Because I work whilst travelling, I had my laptop with me which at least wasgave me a form of communication. I made a Whatsapp call home and sent the family members on the hunt for my IMEI number – not before they rubbed my carelessness in a little. The phone was fairly new and the box it had come in was still knocking around, giving easy access to the information I needed.
Still in a state of shock, I’d already forgotten the address of the police station. Thankfully, the staff at the reception desk gave me detailed directions written down on a map. It was less than a ten-minute walk away at 4 Dragatsanious Street adjacent to Klaftimonas Square. An entrance led me through a door and into the office where 3 staff were working at their desks.
A lady came over to me to ask how she could help. I gave a very succinct explanation of what had happened. I could almost feel the gale of the collective exhalations at the thought of more paperwork because of another careless tourist. A man came over and spilled out a spiel that he must have made a million times. Basically, there were two choices. I could report my phone as lost (not stolen). If I had insurance, I would fill in an incident report, which would be stamped and would be enough evidence for the insurance company. If I didn’t have insurance and wanted to pursue this, I would have to come back the following day to fill in more paperwork, which would be submitted to the courts. The case would be heard at some point in Athens, but I would have to come back to attend the court. Thankfully, I had insurance.
I duly completed the incident report providing the description of the phone with its IMEI number. It was stamped and I was given a copy for the insurance claim.
Back at the hotel, I got back on the laptop. I knew that there was a facility to enable me to track my phone. It was a long shot but one I thought worth exploring. Most Android and Apple phones have a device-finding mechanism (Google’s Find My Device and Apple’s Find My). I was able to log into my Google account to access Find My Device. Its last known spot was exactly where I’d been sitting on Agios Anargiron Street when it was swiped. Of course, they’d turned the phone off so it couldn’t be tracked. A petty thief he may have been, but I don’t doubt he worked with an organised crime gang.
In Google, I was able to undertake a couple of other security measures – oh, and I also discovered I could get the IMEI number from there too. There was an option to lock the phone and erase the data. There was also another option to leave a message on the screen – though this would only be seen if the phone was ever switched on again. I thought this was worth a punt. I wrote “100€ reward for return of phone. Return to Attalos Hotel”. After resigning myself to the fact that I’d never see the phone again, I set it to erase all data. My heart broke as I put the final nail in the coffin of ever seeing my photos again.
On that note, (and another reason why I’m so angry at myself) is that I could have backed up my photos to the cloud. I have various cloud accounts such as Google, One Drive and Amazon Photos but every single one of them was full. It’s one of those tedious jobs that I kept procrastinating over to sort them out – but I never did. Besides, I had what I thought was an effective backup system that worked quite well (until now). Whilst travelling, I always back my photos up to my laptop – usually on a daily basis, but on this occasion, I didn’t.
Anyway, to cut a rather long and boring story short, my message is simple. When in any city, be extra cautious about your possessions. Don’t leave mobile phones on the table, no matter how safe it feels. I’d always scoffed at phone lanyards, often worn by elderly American cruisers, but I can now see the advantage of this unbecoming accessory.
I’d recommend familiarising yourself with Find My Device and how to access it quickly to get the IMEI number and to secure the data. It’s not easy when you’re in a blind panic.
Well, that’s another lesson learned. Has it put me off Athens? Hell no!
Below is the address and phone number of the tourist police office in central Athens.
| AthensTourist Visitor Service Office Dragatsaniou 4, 105 59, Athens | +30 210 322 2230 |
https://www.astynomia.gr/contact-2/?lang=en
