The worst holiday of my life was blighted by theft, a Messi no-show and a failed airline

Arriving in Spain, I was hit by the sudden realisation that my passport was still in my bag, which was now in luggage reclaim on the other side of the border. After much panicking and pleading, the border agents eventually allowed Tav to go through and retrieve my passport. After what seemed like an interminable wait (Tav spent 10 minutes at the wrong baggage carousel), I safely entered Spain.

But my problems were just getting started. When I pulled out my wallet to buy a ticket for the metro to the city centre, I found that €700 in cash had been stolen from it (why the thieves left the passport, I’m not so sure). In retrospect it was foolish of me to be carrying so much cash, and I was only doing so because my Italian grandma had recently passed away and I had inherited the money, which I was going to put to good use on my trip. I’m not sure at what point the money was taken but it was most likely when it was unattended in baggage claim. All I hope is that whoever stole it at least put my grandma’s money to good use. 

Our trip happened to coincide with the weekend that Catalunya decided to hold their politically divisive independence election. World television services beamed images of baton-wielding Spanish police using physical force to break up the locals’ attempts to vote. We saw none of this violence, but the effects would very soon catch up with us. 

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