One of Rome's infamous pickpockets snatched my purse, leaving me without money, credit cards, or a passport.
It was June 2023, and my son had just graduated college and was two weeks into his dream job in finance; my daughter, meanwhile, was away at summer camp. After years of putting everyone before myself, I decided to carve out two glorious weeks just for me, 14 days to follow my every whim, in my favorite city in this big wide world: Rome.
I packed a single carry-on with cute sundresses and sandals and checked into one of the most luxurious hotels I’d ever stayed in, overlooking the ancient Roman Forum. For two wonderful weeks, I slept in every morning. Every morning, I flung open the doors to my veranda, where I was greeted by the heavenly Italian sunshine and an unparalleled view of the 98 ft tall Column of Trajan, a towering monument built circa 113 AD to commemorate Roman emperor Trajan’s victory in the Dacian Wars.
I’d promised myself I would eat all the gelatos and drink all the Aperol Spritzes. I treated myself to not one but two scoops of dark chocolate every afternoon from my favorite gelateria, the Gelateria del Teatro. By 5 p.m., I eased into an aperitif hour, choosing a cafe in a different piazza every day. From my perch, I sipped spritzes and watched life in Rome.
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I had lived in Rome years ago, in my twenties, when I overextended my study abroad experience and found a job as an English teacher and then as a translator. On this trip, I caught up with my cherished friends from that era over dinners and drinks. I took advantage of my hotel’s rooftop and its cocktails and conversation into the wee hours of the night until it was time to put my 50-something self to bed.
This time, on my own, I visited the National Etruscan Museum housed in the 16th-century Villa Giulia, where I finally came face to face with the circa 510 B.C. Sarcophagus of the Spouses. I perused ancient forks at the newer Museo della Cucina. I descended 20 meters below the modern city to the grounds of Largo Argentina, a 2,000+-year-old archeological site that had finally opened to the public days into my arrival thanks to a brilliant restoration by Bulgari, where none other than Julius Caesar was assassinated; I visited with the strays at the adjacent cat sanctuary.
Nearing the end of my visit, I caught a train at the Termini Station and traveled to Tuscany, my favorite region in Italy. I spent two nights at the five-star Castelfalfi resort, a slice of heaven nestled in the cypress-dotted, rolling hills. I strolled the charming, medieval hamlet; I watched the sun set over the surrounding vineyards, sipping Franciacorta.
When I returned to Rome, where I’d spend one last day before returning to Chicago, I felt refreshed, rejuvenated, completely and utterly relaxed. The afternoon before my departure, I felt a rush of gratitude for my beloved, always magical Italy as I sat down at my favorite restaurant, Piperno, to enjoy my favorite dish on planet Earth, Carciofi Alla Giudia, Roman-Jewish deep-fried artichokes. Entranced by the Portico of Octavia before me, the tall marble columns of which once enclosed the temples dedicated to the goddess marriage and childbirth, Juno Regina, I fell into a Prosecco-fueled reverie as I watched a street cat playfully sip water from the bustling piazza’s Nasone fountain mere meters away.
That’s when my smartphone, nestled by the bread basket, brightened with an alert, breaking my blissful state in two and slapping me straight back to reality. An alert appeared on my screen: “Apple Store Roma, Via Del Corso. Do you authorize a charge of €2,700? Press Y for YES, N for NO.”
My heart sank to the sampietrini at my feet as I immediately reached for my purse, which I had stupidly stretched across the back of my chair. I couldn’t believe my bad luck. Rome’s pickpockets are known for being exceptionally sly, able to snatch a purse or a wallet in a David Copperfield-like Abracadabra of an instant. I hadn’t felt a touch of their daft fingertips as they had deftly worked my crossbody purse off the back of my chair. The second glass of Prosecco and the glorious people watching had managed to distract me fully.
“My first instinct when I realized my purse had vanished into thin air was to burst into tears. But I knew that this was not the time to be dispirited. Instead, I sprang into action.”
Now, I consider myself a very seasoned traveler. And remember: This wasn’t my first time in Rome. Just a few evenings earlier, I’d met up with my daughter’s friend and her parents, who happened to be visiting Rome on vacation, for a cocktail.
“What about these purse-snatchers?” she asked me. “They’re all over TikTok.”
Her 14-year-old daughter, Paloma, opened the app on her phone and treated me to a few TikTok clips of Rome’s dastardly pickpockets at work, nabbing the wallets and purses of unsuspecting tourists. #Pickpocketsitaly was trending.
“You just need to be cautious,” I said, sure that anyone paying a minimal amount of attention could avoid falling victim to the petty thieves. “Keep your valuables, passport, and debit card locked up in your hotel safe; just carry a credit card with you and a small amount of cash. Be especially cautious in crowded areas and on public transportation. You’ll be fine.”
My first instinct when I realized my purse had vanished into thin air was to burst into tears. But I knew that this was not the time to be dispirited. Instead, I sprang into action and alerted my waiter.
“Mannaggia! Damn!” he said, sharing the news with his fellow waiters. I asked patrons seated beside me if they’d noticed the incident, but everyone was just as flabbergasted as I was; they checked to make sure they, too, hadn’t been robbed, then offered me consolation and commiseration and asked me if I needed any assistance.
Worse, I didn’t have a single form of ID on me. Everything was in my purse, even my favorite lipstick. My heart sunk even deeper, beneath the sampietrini and towards the catacombs.
I replied “NO” to the text.
Having just traveled by train from Tuscany to Rome, I’d lazily failed to follow my own advice. My passport, cash, credit, and debit card were still in my purse, albeit now enjoying an adventure through the streets of Rome, from the Apple store to a clothing shop.
I immediately locked down my credit and debit card from my smartphone, but the thieves, who likely snatched my purse and then zipped off on a Vespa to the Apple store, where they’d surely get the most bang for my buck, had already managed to rack up €500+ in charges on my credit card.
“Don’t worry about the bill,” the waiter advised. “Go straight to the questura (the local police).”
As I walked towards the questura, I created a list in my brain of all the tedious tasks I’d have to face in the next few hours. First, I filed the police report. The police officer shook his head, “You’re the eighth tourist today.” Second, I texted Adriana, and with my tail between my legs, embarrassed by my earlier bravado, I asked to borrow 500 euros. She was staying near my hotel, and I could immediately and easily transfer money from my bank account to hers (Thank God I still had my smartphone). When I saw her walking towards me across Campo dei Fiori less than fifteen minutes later, I breathed the biggest sigh of relief ever.
It was 4 p.m. at this point, yet the tiniest sliver of hope remained that I could somehow obtain an emergency passport at this late hour so I could catch my flight back home the following day. From Largo, Argentina, I flagged and then hopped in a taxi. I couldn’t help but tell the taxi driver the whole awful story as we headed towards the U.S. Embassy, and he felt so sorry for me. Despite my protests, he told me the ten-minute ride would be free of charge. But when we arrived at the U.S. Embassy, it was closed.
Having realized that there was no way I could fly home the following day, I checked myself into the nearest hotel, set my alarm for 6 a.m., and contacted American Airlines to change my flight. The following morning, I was first in line at the U.S. Embassy on Via Veneto. Behind me were tens of U.S. tourists dealing with a similar fate. Thankfully, I always keep a copy of my passport in my Google Drive.
“This has been the worst summer on record for pickpocket thefts of U.S. citizens,” the consulate associate sighed. “I’m so sorry. I’ll process this as quickly as possible.” I sat down in the waiting room with 20 or so other miserable tourists in my same situation. My number was called in under an hour, and she issued me an emergency U.S. passport. Its purple cover meant that I’d have a lot of explaining to do wherever I presented it over the next 24 hours.
Issuable to citizens overseas, in urgent circumstances such as the imminent death or funeral of a family member, lost or stolen passport while abroad, or a similar situation, the so-called ‘Purple Passport” is only valid one year from the date of issue. (Upon my return to Chicago, I mailed it in and was sent a new, full-term passport.)
There are worse things in life than spending an extra night in Rome. Emergency passport in hand, my flight booked for the following day, I had one extra evening to soak up the Roman sunset. I met up with a couple of dear friends for a nightcap at Cielo, the Hotel de la Ville’s rooftop bar, and they all felt the need to apologize on behalf of the city of Rome.
“La merde succeede,” I reminded them. “Shit happens.”
Tips to Keep Your Valuable Safe While Traveling
Purse snatchers and pickpockets can be found everywhere—not just in Rome. Always keep your passport and debit card secured in your hotel room safe. Keep a photocopy of your passport and state ID/driver’s license with you at all times. Save a digital copy to a secure, virtual drive that you can easily access from your phone. If your passport is lost or stolen, it’s much easier to prove your identity and obtain a new one if you have a copy to show to your Embassy. For good measure, send a paper or digital copy of your passport to a trusted family member or friend in case of emergency. Download your credit card app to your phone pre-trip so you can easily and immediately lock your credit card from the comfort of your phone should it be lost or stolen.
What to Do if You’re Robbed While Traveling
Pickpockets and purse snatchers specialize in robbing tourists when they’re not paying attention. I’ve since learned that the back of a chair, no matter how much you think it’s secured, is the number one place from which purses are stolen. Ideally, your bag should always be in your hand, over your arm, over your shoulder, or across your body at all times. Or better, ditch the purse and wear a pickpocket-proof money belt.
Report lost/stolen credit cards immediately to your credit card company. Your credit card company might also verify your credit card account directly to your hotel so you can check in or out. Head to the nearest police station and file a report ASAP. You’ll need to report to process any eventual fraud claims; many banks and credit card issuers require a police report as part of their investigation process.
No airline will allow you to board an international flight without a passport. Contact the nearest Embassy or Consulate to immediately inform them about your lost or stolen travel document and apply for an emergency passport. If a U.S. citizen, you’ll need to complete the DS-64 form for “lost or stolen passports” and the standard DS-11 passport application form. Once back in the U.S., you’ll need to replace your emergency passport with a regular one.
If you have zero cash, no credit/debit cards, and no one at your destination to lend you any money on the spot, use a commercial money transfer service, such as Western Union, to wire yourself money overseas from your U.S.-based bank account. The U.S. Department of State’s Office of Overseas Citizens Services (888) 407-4747 (or from overseas +1 202-501-4444) can assist U.S. citizens who are temporarily destitute abroad.
Never, ever, have a backpack! It signals you are a foreigner and all of those "pockets" are there for the picking, as they are at the back and you will never feel they are being opened.
Don't even leave your passport in the room safe (don't put anything in that safe, as they can be easily broken into), always have it with you, as police can stop and ask for I.D.
Ladies, never wear jewelry, don't carry a purse or handbag. Men, do not carry your wallet in any of your pockets.
Safest way when abroad it to get an RFI pouch (which has a thin strap), put all your valuables, (including your phone) in it and hang it around your neck and under your clothes. No one can then get to your valuables.
I found it interesting, to say the least when many years ago, in the Rome bus and or subway system there were signs that read "Watch out, there are pick pockets behind you"
I've traveled throughout the most notorious places in Europe and Central America but never with a bag or backpack. Crowded subways, street crowds. When waiting for subways stand against the wall, so no one can get behind you, enter last. i have a cloth zippered sleave that fits over my bicep for credit cards and cash. Better then those money belts which can be stolen with the use of a straight razor on the pant leg, check out Youtube. My iPhone is in my front pocket, which a razor will find.
However, when i need to carry my iPad and water I place them in a cheap plastic bag from a locally branded supermarket, like some local person with nothing of value. But when traveling around NYC late at night i always have some cash in my pocket or sock for robbers who confront me with a knife or gun. Saying you have no cash on you will get you shot or knifed. Keep large amounts of cash on your bicep sleave.
I told my newly college graduate grandson to wear a tiny pocket of leather on a string over his head that I gave him for his passport, credit card and extra money.. He said " Grandma, I have lived in NYC for 4 years. I know how to handle a city. He was in Italy for 1/2 hour and was pick pocketed on a train. ( of course he did not wear it)