This morning, I head to the bus station to catch a regional bus to Cape Sounion, the location of the Temple of Poseidon. When I arrive at the bus depot, I realize I left my watch and jewelry in my hotel room. I want my watch to ensure I catch the return bus. The bus doesn’t leave for 45 minutes, so I take the subway back to my hotel, retrieve my watch, and return to the bus depot with time to spare.

Actually, there are two buses to Cap Sounion – one goes along the coast, the other goes inland. I choose the coastal bus assuming that there will be views of the sea, which there are.

The ruins of the Greek Temple of Poseidon, mythological god of the sea, are situated on the southernmost tip of the Attica peninsula and are surrounded on three sides by the sea. When we arrive at the temple, there are few visitors, making it ideal for photo taking.

On the return trip, I meet Jo and David, a British couple traveling around Greece for a week.

When I return to the bus depot, I catch the subway going north to find the train station. I want to find out my options for taking a train to Thessaloniki in northeast Greece. I board the subway train at the Victoria station. It is rush hour and the trains are absolutely packed.

As I get on, I take my day pack off and hold it in my left hand and down low so no one can get into it. With my right hand, I try to hold on to the pole to keep from falling over. I also check my purse occasionally, which is hanging low and in front of me, but it’s a tough juggling act. At the next stop, Attiki, a bunch of people get off and I realize someone has stolen my small black change purse with 65 euro (about $100 USD), my credit card and my ATM card in it. Ouch! I try to get off at that stop as well, but the crowd coming on won’t allow it.

At the following stop, I get off and return to the Attiki stop where I was pick-pocketed. I report the theft to the tourist police in the subway station. While they are very nice and sympathetic, they direct me to go to the local police station, about eight blocks from the subway.

This neighborhood is not the most appealing, but I find the police station easily enough. The uniformed officers at the entrance are most gracious, friendly and helpful. When I start to get emotional, one asks me if I’m OK. I tell him I am and he directs me to the third floor of the police station.

The police station is old, dingy and the worse for wear. I take the rickety elevator to the third floor. In a separate room, there are several men in plain clothes sitting at desks. I don’t know if they are police officers, but they are not friendly and are rather gruff. They direct me to fill out a form, which I do – name, country, passport info, what happened and what was stolen. I give them my completed form and am told to return the next day after 2 pm. They don’t provide any more information. Interestingly, in the same room, there is an opening in the wall, a window without glass but with bars where some other men are peering through. My guess is that is the jail, and the ones hanging through the window are prisoners.

Leaving the police station, I return to the subway to head back to my hotel. In the subway station, I notice a young man with dark hair and wearing a black tee shirt sitting on the steps and fooling with his cell phone. This seems a little strange to me. People don’t usually hang out inside a subway station. Most people are going somewhere.

I walk past him a few times and suspect he’s the guy who robbed me. He looks a lot like the guy that was next to me on the train, but I cannot identify him for sure. I just remember he had dark hair, was about this guy’s age and build and was wearing a black tee shirt, like this guy. When he sees me, he gets up and hastily walks up the steps. I walk away but keep looking back. At the top of the steps, he turns around, descends and goes down the corridor and up a different set of steps. Again, this seems strange. I don’t notify the tourist police because I cannot ID him for sure. But, in hind sight, I should have notified the tourist police and let them decide what to do, if anything.

I return to my hotel. Fortunately, I have 50 euro and $100 US (for emergencies) in my money belt, and I’m relieved that I kept my passport in my money belt. My credit and ATM cards were in my purse because I planned to use them. Lesson learned. I will always carry my credit and ATM cards in my money belt and retrieve them only when I actually use them, which I do the rest of my journey.

At the hotel, I call the Kretz’s, who I met on Sunday, to ask for advice about how to best transfer funds from the US. If necessary, I can ask my dad to send me some cash. While talking to them, I get emotional and they invite me to come stay the night with them. This was a real God send.

I put a few overnight things in my day pack and head out. In the lobby, the hotel desk clerk asks if I’m checking out. When I say no, I’m just going to visit a friend; he asks why I have my luggage. I explain that my luggage is still in my room. He requests a deposit of 100 euro. I explain that I was pick- pocketed earlier and all I have is 50 euro, so he accepts that. (Yes, I had a $100 USD for emergencies, and yes, this is an emergency, but I want to hold on to that as an absolute last resort.)

I take the subway to the end of the line where Ron Kretz picks me up. The Kretz’s have a lovely apartment with a view of the Aegean Sea. They feed me and let me use their internet phone (Magic Jack) to make calls to the states. I call and cancel my credit card and my ATM card. Citibank will ship a replacement credit card within 48 hours and I provide the Kretz’s address for shipping. My ATM card, however, requires a different tact. I also use their internet to do some research, and email family and friends. While I could have managed on my own, this reprieve and the ability to use their phone and computer is a wonderful and extremely beneficial gift. ~