Robbed and Rescued
We had always wanted to visit Prague, and in 2003, complete with one new hip
joint each, we took the plunge. Our son and his family were living in
Germany, so visiting them was the main purpose of our month-long trip. We
had arranged a series of flights within Europe in order to visit Prague and
Budapest, two cities whose history fascinated us, as well as Vienna, where we
would stay a few days with our niece Jill, who has worked there for years.
Our hotel in Prague was most modest, and in the same little street as the
famous and excellent restaurant U Kalicha (At the Chalice), immortalized by
the fictional Good Soldier Svejk, whose comical figure graces its signs and
menus. Our hotel manager Ivan was most helpful, advising us to leave our
passports and air tickets in his safe, and to beware of pickpockets
especially.
We soon learned the systems of the trams and subway trains, and set about to
enjoy six days in this beautiful and wondrous city. As a familiarization
ploy we took a conducted bus tour of its main features and landmarks,
including Prague Castle, the Charles Bridge and Wenceslas Square. We then
spent the first few days on the trams, crossing the Vltava River many times
in the process. And so it was that on Thursday, August 21, we left the
tram up on Castle Hill, and wandered down through a famous shopping street,
stopping for some time on a lovely summers day for the largest beers we had
ever handled! At the foot of the hill was a busy Old Square, with cafes,
bars and a large tram stop.
Aiming to return across town to our hotel, we went to board our tram, and
were split up by a jostling crowd or gang of gipsy women, who appeared to be
helping my wife Norah onto the tram, with me behind them. They were
actually robbing her, and this was made easier by the fact that she still
depended on a walking stick for safety. When she yelled "Shes got my
purse!" the women, all dressed in black, forced open the hydraulic tram doors
and escaped onto the street, followed by us, shouting "Polizia!" in all the
wrong languages. They quickly disappeared, and only then did I discover
that my wallet had gone also, along with our video camera right out of its
substantial bag slung across my shoulders. Now we are seasoned travellers,
had taken reasonable precautions (deep pockets and the like), but these
people were experts, and could have done it to anyone. There we stood,
crying and desolate, with not a penny in our pockets even to get a tram to
the hotel. An English-speaking waiter at a nearby bar made several phone
calls for us, and directed us to the nearest police station, so that we could
get an official police report for insurance purposes.
We managed to persuade a taxi driver to get us to the hotel, where we had
just enough Euros to pay him, but we still had not been able to stop our
credit cards. Ivan, at the desk of the Prague Lion Hotel, then came to our
rescue at once, by helping with crucial phone calls. The first person we
rang was an Austrian friend of Jills called Brigitte (pron. brig-eater),
whom we had met just once before in New Zealand. Brigitte works in Prague
and was going to meet us the next day for drinks, and immediately gave me her
address and tram directions, so that I could complete my telephoning about
cards etc at her flat.
So by 5.30 pm we had stopped all four cards, and received a commitment from
Visa Global Assistance (VGA) in USA that a replacement emergency card would
be sent to Prague within 24 hours. It actually arrived, properly embossed
with my name and correct expiry date, before 9 am the next morning. We
tried it out immediately by paying our hotel bill a few days early. We
then discovered, after three attempts at different banks and at American
Express, that our Visa Card was not one which could be used for Cash
Advances. Brigitte then calmly loaned us 11000 Czech crowns, or about $750
NZ to tide us over.
I therefore phoned VGA again and requested emergency cash of about 500 Euros
or $1000 NZ. An e-mail arrived that very evening (still Friday) saying
that the money had been wired through Western Union, and could be uplifted at
the Prague Main Rail Station. On arrival at the station early Saturday
morning, I was told that I had to have the transfer number, and this I got by
phoning VGA for the third time, and once again receiving the most helpful,
courteous and intelligent service possible.
Perhaps the most amazing thing about our Prague adventure was that we
continued to love and enjoy Prague for the remaining three days of our stay.
Brigitte advised us to take cruises on the river boats where we could just
sit back, relax and enjoy the dramatic river scenery. This was great advice
indeed, especially since we started by getting on the wrong boat, whose
conductress Hana made friends with us, gave us a free 90-min ride, and
practised her English with rare flair and enjoyment. We have since
exchanged e-mails with her. So Hana joined the ever-growing list of
angels who assisted in our rescue. First there was Ivan of the Prague
Lion, then the English-speaking waiter, the heaven-sent and marvellous
Brigitte, the Visa Card people in the States, and Hana, the laughing, waving,
happy boat conductress. There is also, of course, the fictional Svejk, the
Good Soldier, who will live on in our memory as the
infuriating batman, who, like us, spent some time in that little street
called Na Bojisti in the city of Prague.
joint each, we took the plunge. Our son and his family were living in
Germany, so visiting them was the main purpose of our month-long trip. We
had arranged a series of flights within Europe in order to visit Prague and
Budapest, two cities whose history fascinated us, as well as Vienna, where we
would stay a few days with our niece Jill, who has worked there for years.
Our hotel in Prague was most modest, and in the same little street as the
famous and excellent restaurant U Kalicha (At the Chalice), immortalized by
the fictional Good Soldier Svejk, whose comical figure graces its signs and
menus. Our hotel manager Ivan was most helpful, advising us to leave our
passports and air tickets in his safe, and to beware of pickpockets
especially.
We soon learned the systems of the trams and subway trains, and set about to
enjoy six days in this beautiful and wondrous city. As a familiarization
ploy we took a conducted bus tour of its main features and landmarks,
including Prague Castle, the Charles Bridge and Wenceslas Square. We then
spent the first few days on the trams, crossing the Vltava River many times
in the process. And so it was that on Thursday, August 21, we left the
tram up on Castle Hill, and wandered down through a famous shopping street,
stopping for some time on a lovely summers day for the largest beers we had
ever handled! At the foot of the hill was a busy Old Square, with cafes,
bars and a large tram stop.
Aiming to return across town to our hotel, we went to board our tram, and
were split up by a jostling crowd or gang of gipsy women, who appeared to be
helping my wife Norah onto the tram, with me behind them. They were
actually robbing her, and this was made easier by the fact that she still
depended on a walking stick for safety. When she yelled "Shes got my
purse!" the women, all dressed in black, forced open the hydraulic tram doors
and escaped onto the street, followed by us, shouting "Polizia!" in all the
wrong languages. They quickly disappeared, and only then did I discover
that my wallet had gone also, along with our video camera right out of its
substantial bag slung across my shoulders. Now we are seasoned travellers,
had taken reasonable precautions (deep pockets and the like), but these
people were experts, and could have done it to anyone. There we stood,
crying and desolate, with not a penny in our pockets even to get a tram to
the hotel. An English-speaking waiter at a nearby bar made several phone
calls for us, and directed us to the nearest police station, so that we could
get an official police report for insurance purposes.
We managed to persuade a taxi driver to get us to the hotel, where we had
just enough Euros to pay him, but we still had not been able to stop our
credit cards. Ivan, at the desk of the Prague Lion Hotel, then came to our
rescue at once, by helping with crucial phone calls. The first person we
rang was an Austrian friend of Jills called Brigitte (pron. brig-eater),
whom we had met just once before in New Zealand. Brigitte works in Prague
and was going to meet us the next day for drinks, and immediately gave me her
address and tram directions, so that I could complete my telephoning about
cards etc at her flat.
So by 5.30 pm we had stopped all four cards, and received a commitment from
Visa Global Assistance (VGA) in USA that a replacement emergency card would
be sent to Prague within 24 hours. It actually arrived, properly embossed
with my name and correct expiry date, before 9 am the next morning. We
tried it out immediately by paying our hotel bill a few days early. We
then discovered, after three attempts at different banks and at American
Express, that our Visa Card was not one which could be used for Cash
Advances. Brigitte then calmly loaned us 11000 Czech crowns, or about $750
NZ to tide us over.
I therefore phoned VGA again and requested emergency cash of about 500 Euros
or $1000 NZ. An e-mail arrived that very evening (still Friday) saying
that the money had been wired through Western Union, and could be uplifted at
the Prague Main Rail Station. On arrival at the station early Saturday
morning, I was told that I had to have the transfer number, and this I got by
phoning VGA for the third time, and once again receiving the most helpful,
courteous and intelligent service possible.
Perhaps the most amazing thing about our Prague adventure was that we
continued to love and enjoy Prague for the remaining three days of our stay.
Brigitte advised us to take cruises on the river boats where we could just
sit back, relax and enjoy the dramatic river scenery. This was great advice
indeed, especially since we started by getting on the wrong boat, whose
conductress Hana made friends with us, gave us a free 90-min ride, and
practised her English with rare flair and enjoyment. We have since
exchanged e-mails with her. So Hana joined the ever-growing list of
angels who assisted in our rescue. First there was Ivan of the Prague
Lion, then the English-speaking waiter, the heaven-sent and marvellous
Brigitte, the Visa Card people in the States, and Hana, the laughing, waving,
happy boat conductress. There is also, of course, the fictional Svejk, the
Good Soldier, who will live on in our memory as the
infuriating batman, who, like us, spent some time in that little street
called Na Bojisti in the city of Prague.
posted by Slidge at 9:53 AM
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