t was around 4 pm on a hot, humid day in Kuala Lumpur. I was walking down the street, deep in conversation with my travel partner Ash, when all of a sudden, I felt this tug at my bag. I turned around and saw 2 guys pulled up next to us on a motorbike. I tried to grab my bag but the strap was already cut somehow. In a blink of an eye, they were gone with it. It all happened so quickly. My body went into shock, I was shaking uncontrollably, my heart was racing, the tears were pouring down my face and I screamed some not so ‘lady like’ words after them.
All of this happened in broad daylight, on a busy street, just across from the Petronas Twin Towers. One of the main attractions in the capital of Malaysia.
A day planned, of eating great food and seeing some of the great sites that the city had to offer. Instead, ended up with us sitting in the police station.
The one thing I kept thinking about the most was how that morning I had my passport, cards and camera in that very bag, but luckily I had left the cards and passport at the hostel and had given my friend the camera to keep in her bag, as the battery had died. I felt like the universe was setting me up for this event and that I wouldn’t lose anything too important. I did lose my iPhone, which had quite a few pictures on too and about twenty pounds worth of Malaysian Ringgit. It wasn’t a great loss but still not having my iPhone on me was like I had lost my right arm and I still had 2 and a half weeks left of the trip to go.
I guess the trip was going so well, that something had to happen at some point, right?