Robbed in Rome AKA The Birth of a Book

“The Background”

In the spring of 2004, I had finished my contract working as an assistant director at a morning TV show. Wonderful people but I had to get up at 4am every day. And then immediately call a cab so I could arrive at the suburban station by 4:30am and get immediately to work. By 6am, we were on the air and I had to be alert and somewhat ready for the morning chaos. Wonderful people but it became a grind. Friday afternoons were absolutely joyful but Sunday nights became depressing.

So I quit and decided to travel for the summer throughout northern Europe. I rented out my downtown apartment to two college girls and packed my bags. Scotland, England, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland. I was scheduled to meet a friend in Estonia, but I had arrived a little early in nearby Helsinki and had about a two week wait. And my entry visa for Russia was still not permissible for another month.

So instead of blowing more money in expensive Scandinavia, I suddenly decided to fly down to Italy to get some heat before my ramble through the former Iron Curtain.
 

“The Bad Hostel”

I spent the first night in a cramped hostel that demolished any promised of quality sleep. I used the hostel’s computer, booked a hotel two blocks away, and paid my bill at the front desk. I didn’t even bother wearing my money belt. I just folded it into one of my shoulder-bag pockets, zipped it shut, and started walking. I would need complete access to my passport and money in another couple of minutes, so why bother wearing it? Right?
 

“The Mysterious Robbery”

When I arrived at the hotel, the reception clerk naturally asked to see my passport. Only then did I notice that the pocket that once contained my money belt was wide open!

I won’t describe what happened next—it’s all detailed in the book. (Yes, that part’s all true!) But, suffice to say, I was robbed of my passport, my money, my debit card, my credit card, my Russian entry visa, and my plane ticket home. (I guess, today, airlines would still honour that ticket provided that I produced the adequate ID. But not in 2004. It was a hardcopy ticket and I needed that.)

After acquiring a new passport, a cash advance from the credit card company, and offers of money from fabulous friends, I sheepishly returned home to Toronto. I could have extended my European adventure by borrowing from others, but my traveling spirit was sapped.
 

“The New Plan”

Unfortunately, my summer renters weren’t too impressed about my early arrival and not too sympathetic about my robbery. However, two days later, I rented a car and honoured our rental arrangement by touring around eastern Canada and New England instead. The pastoral Canadian and American towns were definitely no match for mysterious Mother Russia, but I digress.

Naturally, the aborted Italian trip did inspire a lot of creative thought during my long drives around Canada and America. What if I didn’t return home? What if I didn’t have generous friends? What if I didn’t have any discernible reason to get back to Canada—but decided to stay in Italy with my limited funds and get on with the business of having a good time? And what if things got a lot better…or a lot worse…?
 
For the rest of the story, check out:

https://www.johnmeyerbooks.com/fictional-travel-memoir/

https://www.johnmeyerbooks.com/write-the-book/