Mar 24, 2013
Or, how a peace-loving vegetarian was turned into a screaming banshee googling ‘shooting ranges in Barcelona’.
This wasn’t the post I was expecting to write.
What I actually wanted to talk about were the best apps for living in Barcelona. That was the plan. However, for that you need an actual iPhone.
Arriving home from a night out last Saturday, having got a taxi home, about a block from my flat I was attacked and mugged. The guy came up from behind, from the shadows, from nowhere. Luckily I had just taken the (only set of) keys out of my bag a split second before, because he made off with the whole handbag – all cards, all money, new iPhone – in tow.
I gave chase but he was fleeter of foot. Something about not wearing high heels. And having done all this before.
I staggered down to Consell de Cent, a main street, well lit-up, where a few men and women were still strolling around. “I’ve just been mugged!”” I screamed. “Help me find the thief!”
Bear in mind, at this point I’m a foreign single woman, alone, clearly traumatised, on the street at night holding nothing but a bunch of keys.
They all glanced at me and kept on walking. No-one gave a shit.
The police the next day were sympathetic and apathetic at the same time. It was quite a feat to behold.
Clutching my passport, my NIE certificate and my insouciant Spaniel, I answered all of their questions by rote, having internalised it all already. No, I couldn’t recognise him again. Yes, he had hurt me physically. Yes, I think he was Spanish. Sorry if that doesn’t fit with the stats.
Inca was a big hit in the station. Burly policemen in uniform, passing by, did a double take on seeing her there, and stopped in their tracks to tickle her head. “Hola, perrita!”. I smiled, they smiled, everyone smiled. The pup gladly gave paws a-plenty.
This city needs to get its hands off me. That’s now twice in under two months I’ve had to defend myself physically, either inside my own flat or just a block away. Having got a taxi home both times.
I’m still processing the rest. No doubt in future I’ll publish something a little more coherent.
For now, I’m still jumping at shadows. Everyone is a potential aggressor. Shame on you, Barcelona. You’re changing me in ways you were not supposed to.