When we consulted the issue of security with people who had already been to the countries we were going to visit on our 5-month trip in Southeast Asia, Oceania and South America, almost everyone agreed: very careful in South America.
I, a person misled by nature with a personal record of losing or breaking 5 mobiles in less than a year - every time I buy them more shabby for this good reason, but it does not fail: the dumbest always lasts me -, I thought that in the Latin American countries should redouble the precautions. How wrong I was!.
The baggage of the trip resulted in a robbery of a Canon EOS 300 in India, 200 dollars in Thailand and, the best, the whole backpack in New Zealand... Yes, New Zealand. It was in the peaceful and beautiful country of the Kiwis that the worst setback of our trip occurred to us.
Having spent a couple of unforgettable weeks on the South Island of New Zealand, we begin the return to Auckland, city from which our plane would depart in just over a week. Already on the North Island, we decided to spend the night in Rotorua. We had lost our tent in a storm that surprised us in the natural park of Routeburn -Glenorchy- so we parked next to a park and ate something inside the car while we listened to music and watched as the drops of a light rain slipped over the crystal. After dinner, Óscar and Rober went to the public toilet in the park to wash the dishes - three but get by- and I stayed out of the car talking to my father on the phone. When I finished the conversation I went to look for them.
No more than 4 minutes passed since I left until the 3 of us returned to the car. We thought we saw one of the mats and a bottle of something lying right next to the trunk of our car, we looked at each other and said: Can not be... We accelerate the passage and yes, Yes it could be. We opened the trunk and took the 3 backpacks in full.
The best thing is that as the car had become our house, just one night before we had decided to store all the clothes that were thrown by him in our backpacks. How big!.
We went to report the robbery to the nearest police station and they told us to come again in the morning to see how the issue was going. The next day we found the face of the coin. Incredible the help system for these cases that this country has. Some women came to get us by car, took us to a department store of second-hand clothes and told us to take all the clothes we had put on the list as stolen. The Victim Support Association Rotorua re-equipped us with almost everything we had lost in just one morning and, considering that we started the trip with the oldest clothes we had found at home, I think we still won with the change.
The negative part was the backpacks and, without a doubt, Rober's passport. It took us almost 2 weeks of paperwork to get a new one that had to be issued by the Spanish embassy in Australia since New Zealand only owned a Spanish consulate in its South Island (Christchurch).
Still without a new backpack, I showed up at the check-in desk with a small handbag - bought last minute - and a large black trash bag filled with second-hand belongings. The man looked at me surprised when he saw that my ticket was for Santiago de Chile. He told me: Are you going to fly with that? pointing to the black bag. When I told him what had happened to us, the poor boy kept apologizing and saying that it was not explained how that could have happened in his country. He let me check in the garbage bag and that black-skinny one, with the black bag in one hand, the little backpack on my back and the sleeping bag in the other hand - I landed in Santiago, Chile. Against the general opinion, had come to safe ground.
The truth is that we had bad luck in this aspect on the trip but it gave us a lot of laughs and cartoons.