Accident on the way to Barcelona
Those who are not afraid to travel around Europe not just by car, but by car with Russian numbers, we want to warn you what situations on the road you should be prepared for. It is unpleasant to remember this, I don’t want to, but so that this or the like does not happen to other travelers, I am writing.
On a summer Sunday afternoon in 2010, while in Spain in the town of Plage de Arro, my husband and I decided to go on a trip to Barcelona by car together, as we had accumulated sufficient experience of independent travel to many cities in Europe until that time. After driving a few kilometers, safely passing the toll road, we drove onto a free one. There were about 40 km to Barcelona. My husband is driving, and I am in the back seat looking out and photographing beautiful views of the surroundings.
Suddenly there is a blow, a click in the trunk area. I begin to worry that something happened to the car, I tell my husband about it. To which he, as an experienced driver who feels his car, says that everything is in order with the car. And almost immediately, an old Mercedes overtakes us on the left, from the right window of which a “compassionate” passenger in a cap of about 32 years old, as I later called him (God forgive me, I don’t know why) “Mexican”, looks out almost to the waist, and begins to show us signs that "guys, you have problems with the car. " My first mistake, as a person who first found himself in such a situation, was that I began to panic and tell my husband that "something seems to be broken with us. " This "Mexican" in a cap kept waving his arms, indicating that we need to stop and sort out the problem, all the while pushing us to the side of the road. Even my husband also doubted the serviceability of the car, but, remembering the 90s, he also suggested that this group of comrades was trying to divorce us. So, as he parked at the side of the road, he clearly told me, "Don't open the doors. "
We parked, and the "Mexican" continues, waving his arms, to show that we would park closer to the roadside, and, oh - hypnosis, we obey! The second mistake is not to stop, and even if you get up on the road, then so that your car would be an obstacle for the cars coming behind and would attract attention. When, in addition to our car, a Mercedes with a “Mexican” stopped a little ahead and two more cars behind us, my husband immediately said that this was a scam. The “compassionate” in the cap did not let up, got out of the car and continued to wave his hands, showing us to our car that we had problems, and here he is, ready to help, show, only for this we need to get out of the car, simultaneously turning circles around our cars. As we understood later, looking at what and where we have in the car. We sat impregnably inside, panicking about what to do. A couple of times we say the word: “Policeman”, showing that we ourselves are ready to deal with our problem, without their participation. The funny thing is that in my hands I still had a camera with which I could take the numbers of these cars, but I was numb. I turn back and see full cars of (sorry) blacks sitting in the back of 2 cars: with mothers, with children. At this moment, the whole clan moves off and leaves, the "Mexican" decides to go to his car, sits down. We breathe a sigh of relief.
After conferring with the driver, the "Mexican" returns and continues his "hypnosis". The driver behind the wheel of a Mercedes closely followed the situation in his mirror, a bandit by a bandit, a thievish look. Here we make the third mistake, we open a crack in the window to defuse the situation, otherwise maybe they really want to help us. The husband makes a crack of 5-6 cm, the “Mexican” starts to pull on the outside of the car door. Having understood how the car works, he approaches the driver's door, snakes his hand through this crack, presses the door unlock button. During which the husband begins to push his hand out of the slot of the door. In an instant, before we have time to react, he opens the door behind me, and, as if inviting me to get out of the car, continues to wave his arms. A pause, I'm in a stupor, all sorts of terrible thoughts begin to creep into my head. And this “professional” snatches out a purse lying next to me and breaks down to his car. A moment, and Mercedes is already out of reach. I tell my husband that my purse has been stolen from us. The funny thing is that we had two purses: mine and my husband's. Usually, he keeps his to himself. And right on the eve of this incident, he handed his purse to me in the back seat, and for reliability I put it under the pillows. And my purse with a phone, pills, all sorts of notes lay in plain sight, they grabbed her. My husband jerked off the car and chased the bandits, but I asked him to stop, because there is nothing valuable in this purse, except for a good phone. This is how we first came face to face with criminals, their faces were scary, and, for sure, there were weapons in their pockets. And after this incident, a dent remained on the trunk, as we think, from pneumatic weapons.
Upon arrival in Barcelona, they turned to the police, where they met four Russian-speaking tourists, who also found themselves in a terrible situation. We went on a tour with a local guide. He himself recommended that they hide all valuables in bags, even earrings and chains. While the tourists went to the toilet, he himself remained in the car with their things. Upon arrival from the toilet, the tourists found that the car was empty, the glass was broken, there were no bags, and with them passports, money, credit cards and earrings taken off.
For ourselves, we realized that there is nothing to do in Spain now, and there will be nothing else for about seven years due to the abundance of the criminal element in this country. Some new kind of divorce, when whole families take part among the divorcers: fathers, mothers, children; either to lull vigilance, or teach children how to "get bread. "
This was the very beginning of our holiday in Spain. It is clear that we canceled all planned excursions and felt calm only when we left the border of Spain far behind us.