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Parkering på Kanalje kobbarna…
”Robby SwiftRobby in Prison!!!!
What Not to do in Gran Canaria.
I am sure that many of you reading this have seen holiday horror stories on the TV, like people getting drugs dumped in their bags in Thailand etc. and getting sent straight to jail. Like me, you probably watched this and thought wow, that would be horrible but it would never happen to me!
Well, just after the last PWA competition in Pozo Izquierdo, Gran Canaria I had a similar experience, maybe not on quite such a scale, but still very frightening and a lot closer to home.
After the event, I was driving around looking for a parking space with a few of my friends in the car. The whole car park was full except for the little triangles on the end of each row of spaces, which normally get turned into little car parks of their own during busy periods! Well, sure enough, there were plenty of other cars in these unofficial spaces, so I decided to join them, a big mistake that I am never planning on repeating again as the Police towed it away within the next few hours.
When I realised that the car was missing, I asked a local Police officer where I might find it and he told me to get a taxi to the local pound, so off I went, kicking myself for having to pay a fine for my stupidity. When I got to the pound, there was a Police station adjoining it, so I went in there and asked where I could find the car. They told me that it was round the back in a dusty little car park with a barrier in front of it.
I walked around the barrier and got into the car. The Policeman was watching through the window, but then he shut the blind and I didn’t see him again. I drove up to the barrier and nothing happened, so I got out and noticed that it wasn’t locked. I tried pushing it up, and it went straight up. I looked around, and the Policeman had seen me but had gone back inside so I thought he was just making sure I found the car OK.
I drove that car out and shut the barrier, thinking that was that. I drove slowly away and assumed that as no one was following me, they must get so much illegal parking out here that they just take cars away as an inconvenience and then let you take them back.
WRONG!
The next morning I gave the car keys to Scott, my MPG coach and was surprised to hear that he couldn’t find the car in the car park. I went down to have a look and sure enough it wasn’t there. I asked the lady at the reception and she told me that the Police had come and that I would have to go to the Police station in Playa del Ingles, and that I might have to take some money to pay a fine.
So into another Taxi I went and headed back to the car pound. When I got there, I was escorted to another Policeman in the back of a Police car. They were being quite nice to me as I spoke Spanish to them, but I was beginning to get a little worried to say the least. When we arrived at the other Police station, I sat down for a while and was then informed that I would be sleeping there that night. Not sure what this involved, as it was only 11.30 in the morning, I asked what they meant and was put in handcuffs for my trouble and then led down stairs.
I was read my rights and told to take my shoelaces out of my shoes, stripped of everything but my shorts and t-shirt and thrown into a small dingy cell that looked like it had never been washed and had dead and alive cockroaches all over the floor. I had a concrete bench to sleep on and a flea-ridden blanket to wrap around myself. No one spoke a word of English, and from what I could understand of the other inmates’ conversations, I was not sharing this experience with a very nice group of people.
I asked one of the guards why I was in there and he said that I was being held on charges of criminal damage, robbery and driving a stolen vehicle!!! I couldn’t believe it, but there was nothing I could do until a lawyer came to see me and having no right to a phone call out there, I didn’t even know if my parents and friends knew where I was, let alone if I had a lawyer.
The day passed excruciatingly slowly. I asked the guard for the time, as we were not allowed watches in there and after what I thought was about 6 hours he informed me that it was still only 1.30, one hour after I had been locked up! The lawyer didn’t make it that night so all hope of getting out on Sunday was extinguished by about 10.00 Saturday evening.
No judges work in Spain on Saturday or Sunday apparently, so I was very unlucky to be put in there on Saturday morning. I was told that normally I would be let out the next morning for what I had done, but as it was a Saturday, I would have to stay till Monday.
I had no toothbrush, no way of washing and no food. There was a bottle of water on the floor of the cell, but you had to bang on the cell doors to get anyone to come and let you go to the toilet so I didn’t want to drink too much. I was brought a couple of sandwiches a day, but they were normally cheese, and I am allergic to that. I was so nervous that I wouldn’t have been able to eat anything anyway. All I had heard about my chances was that I could get up to 6 months in jail!
I had no idea why I was being held for driving a stolen vehicle. When the lawyer came, he cleared it all up. The car was rented in Greg Allaway’s name originally, and I had extended the renting period. The people at the car rental company had evidently not bothered changing the contract over to my name, so they needed a statement from Greg to prove I was allowed to drive the vehicle. There was nothing to show for my charge of criminal damage, as I hadn’t broken anything, so subsequently this mysteriously disappeared from my list of charges.
When all this had been cleared up, the lawyer was confident that I would get out with no more than a fine for the towing of my car. Unfortunately, I still had to spend another night in custody, as there were no judges working at weekends.
That night was the worst of my life. The drug dealers two cells down from me decided to make as much noise as possible, and throw all their food and water on to the floor outside the cell. The guards came down and asked them to be quiet, so they spat at the female guard and called her all types of names in Spanish. Rather than getting them released early as they had hoped, the disruption just made the guards take away everyone’s water and food and stop coming down to take us to the toilet when we banged on the bars as there was constant banging from the drug dealers.
Two Irish guys came into the cell next to me on Saturday night, so at least I had someone to talk to and share my fears with. They were in there for breaking a door in their apartment by opening it too hard in the wind and not having enough money to pay the manager. They had it worse than me as they missed their flight home, and had no friends there to arrange a lawyer or anything for them. Still, it didn’t make me feel much better as I had to get to the event in Fuerteventura in two days, and still couldn’t be sure that I was going to get out in time.
In the end it turned out OK. I didn’t get to see the judge until Monday afternoon, but thankfully they realised that I was just confused, and that I hadn’t meant any harm. Grubby came all the way back from Fuerteventura to make a statement, driven by Rob Sand while Scott Sanchez didn’t leave the side of the phone all day. Mum and Dad were worried sick the whole time and arranged a local lawyer for me who was extremely good and very supportive. He was actually a surfer from Gran Canaria and so wanted to be extra helpful in getting me to the event in Fuerte.
I ended up paying just ?130 in parking fines, but the two and a half days in the cell made me sure that I would never break even the smallest of laws again!
I would like to say a very big thank you to everyone who helped me out, and advise everyone who has read this not to break the law in any way, even parking illegally for a few hours, because no matter how easy it seems, or how many other people have done it, it really isn’t worth doing when these are the possible consequences!
Robby Swift” -
4 Svar
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Scary stuff!
Jag och två polare fick bilen snodd på Lanzarote och min erfarenhet av polisens behandling var väl inte lika brysk som Robby’s men man kan nog lugnt säga att snuten inte var särskilt samarbetsvillig när det skulle göras polisanmälan.
Bilen blev stulen på Lanzarotes västkust, närmaste polisstation låg i Yaiza dit vi begav oss så snart vi återfått bilen för att anmäla vad som försvunnit. Väl där så fick man direkt informationen att om man inte behärskade spanska så gick det inte att göra någon anmälan. Under den lilla konversation jag nu hade med dem fick man en känsla av att det var vårat fel att bilen och blivit stulen och skulle vi göra någon anmälan så skulle det ske i Puerto del Carmen där vi bodde.
Senare på eftermiddagen infann vi oss på stationen i Puerto del Carmen. Där proklamerade man direkt att deras station inte hade något ansvar för vad som sker i Yaiza-polisens distrikt och att vi därför måste åka dit för att göra anmälan! Det hela höll på att sluta med detta moment 22, men så dök det upp en mer serviceinriktad lagens väktare upp och allt löste sig på bästa sätt med undantaget att en perfekt 4.5 dag gick i stöpet.Än värre var det i Grekland där jag blev rånad i lägenheten. Precis som på stationen i Yaiza var den Grekiske polisens åsikt att det var mitt eget fel. Efter att han hetsat upp sig rätt så ordentligt hotade han mig indirekt med stryk om jag inte lämnade stationen omedelbart…allt jag bad om var ett papper som styrkte min polisanmälan för att kunna få ut något på försäkringen.
Så frågan är om Robby’s tips att aldrig parkera fel eller göra andra mindre överträdelser verkligen räcker för att slippa behandlas som skit av myndigheterna. Det minsta man kan kräva som ”brottsoffer” är väl lite respekt och hjälp från personer med ett sådant samhällsansvar som poliser?
/Benny -
Grekland ja brrr.
Jag fick ruska galler på Kos för några år sen. Jag fick sitta i nästan 2 dar
Men det var mera likt en grotta än en cell. Duktigt med spö bjöd dom på också.
Brorsan fixade ut mig på nåt sätt vilket även kostade honom en del spö.
Så nu mera har jag lärt mig att licka butt när jag ser en beväpnad byling med gestapo stövlar rynka på ögonbrynen. -
Jag och Johan K blev stoppade av två MC-poliser på Fuerte förra året. Dom bad att få titta på nåt, vet ej vad för den ena snuten som stod precis vid vår bil sa inte ett skit på engelska och den andre stod en bit ifrån och glodde stenhårt på övrig trafik som körde förbi i sina kosack-stövlar, ridspö och PilotRAYBAN från 73 och handen på puffran. Hård som fan såg han ut i alla fall……Jag fiskade fram mitt körkort och han tog detta och gick iväg till sin motorcykel en bit bort. Vi satt kvar i bilen och såg på då karln intar en slags halvlutande ställning mot motorcykeln, varvid han avbryter det han håller på med och börjar vandra mot bilen igen. Vi tänker….vad fan är det nu då, jag ser att han inte har mitt körkort med sig. Polisen kommer fram till bilen och påvisar att han vill ha nåt, som vi uppenbarligen inte har, då hyrbilen är sopren på papirus och det enda vi har förutom nyckel till skiten är hyrbilskontraktet som jag ger honom. Han tittar på det och säger: Rental Car no problem, varvid han säger nåt annat skit på spanska och visar att han vill ha nåt annat. Det har vi inte så han munkar i sakta mak tillbaka till sin MC. Den andra snuten står där han står och ser hård ut och tittar på trafiken som passerar. Nu har det gått en kvart och vi börjar bli lite irriterade…..det blåser som fan och här sitter vi i en skitvarm bil och ingen av oss hade lust att gå ut och småchatta med den hårde snuten som stod en bit ifrån och glodde. Hursomhelst, snuten vid hojen kommer tillbaka till vår bil efter ca 15-20 min och då har den dåren skrivit ett helt jävla A4 med skit på spanska, inklusive att han skrivit av hela mitt körkort, varenda stavelse på skiten inklusive baksidan på det……och han vill att jag skall skriva på…..han håller i en penna…..pekar på paperet och vill att jag sätter en kråka…..och man tänker nu skall den fan ha en kråka och sen tar han alla våra stålar. Jag säger till Johan: jag vad fan skall jag göra? jag skriver på, får tillbaka mitt körkort och en kopia och han går ifrån bilen?!??!?? Johan tittar på mig….kööör och vi gasar iväg. Senare på kvällen visar vi papperet till han som har huset där vi bor som kan spanska. Han fattar inte ett skit vad som står, men kan tyda att det är en uppmaning till oss att ta oss till polisstationen eller liknande….men tror att det kommer att kosta oss en del pissetassar. Han uppmanar oss istället att ta papperet och torka oss i arslet med det istället, vilket vi gjorde.
Man hade väl tur som fan men vi trodde ett tag att det skulle behövas pröjsas en del, vilket vi slapp med blotta förskräckelsen. Någon sa innan att polisen inte hasslar med turister som föder dom på holmarna, storysarna visar annat, det vet inte minst TUNGSURF-grabbarna som i år fick dega en slant till tyskvaktarna i söder. Efter detta så ligger man inte och pressar med bilen som om det vore fri fart i alla fall……..kör lugnt och parkera korrekt e nog grejen och man inte vill missa kosing och som i andras fall även sitta i kurran
//Krille -
Lokalpolisen är oftast trevliga och hjälpsamma på GC, man
ska dock akta sig för Francos gamla militärpoliser dom är
inte ALLS trevliga…
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