I stood on the cliffs above the sparkling Praia do Camilo, viewing the scene below me with photographer’s eyes first. I take in the dancing light from the waves and the breathtaking palette of pastel hues so rich that perhaps calling them pastels almost seems unjust. I’m struck by the landscape and the ease of the people interacting within it. I spend a while shooting, challenging myself to capture what is laid out before me, from whole scenes to the most minuscule details.
The Canon 6D is my most prized possession. On days like this, it is also the reason my feet are enveloped by socks and trusty black New Balances rather than Mediterranean currents and wet sand. My camera gives me the joy of making images, but it is also the reason that I’m wearing jeans instead of a bathing suit. It’s why I’m looking down at the surface of the water instead of experiencing the silent euphoria of swimming beneath it. As strongly as the water beckons, the fear of my camera walking off with some sticky fingered opportunist is stronger. A gift from my parents, the 6D is the most precious thing I own, and, with the lens, cost more than my car. There’s no chance I risk leaving it lest someone takes it. I spend the next couple hours taking in the sights, watching the birds, shooting, and exchanging greetings with the occasional passerby. I keep walking.
Getting robbed in Turkey was a turning point; a shift in the way I viewed personal security and how I would protect my things. Everyone who’s traveled beyond their own neighborhood has given some thought to keeping their belongings secure. While there are endless tips to reduce the likelihood of getting robbed, tricked, or swindled, it is important to know just how secure you really want to be. While there are endless tips to reduce the likelihood of getting robbed, tricked, or swindled, it is important to know just how secure you really want to be. Surprisingly, “as secure as possible” is not necessarily the best option when you consider the idea that security has a cost. Having “constant vigilance” as Professor Moody always advised is stressful. Not a focused stress like being up against a deadline or late for a flight, but a slow burn stress that builds unnoticed for months. The real question every traveler needs to figure out is, ‘Where do I want to fall on the spectrum between the two extremes of blissful blind trust and paranoia?’
A good indicator of where you will fall on this spectrum is how generally trusting in humanity you are. Trust reduces stress and improves life, but also makes you an easier target for theft. Conversely, being distrustful is less risky, but stress inducing nonetheless. In Istanbul, weeks of meeting an endless stream of wonderfully helpful and genuine Turks built up my trust in humanity to a level that burned me. A man (and his unseen partner) who, through the guise of helping, gained my trust and robbed me. After that incident, the pendulum swung the other way. I became exceedingly cautious. I may not have been robbed after that, but I paid for my security with an increased level of vigilance that is so subtly taxing on the mind that I was not even conscious of it. It manifested itself in a million little tendencies such as:
Constantly covering my pockets containing my phone and wallet with my hands while on trains or busses.
Being wary of people offering to help.
Putting valuables in my apartment out of sight before having company over.
Constantly padlocking the zippers together on my baggage.
The availability of personal safes next to each bunk becoming a factor in hostel selection.
Having to find clever hiding places for valuables when hostels don’t provide safes.
Before napping in a park, on a train, or anywhere outside of a bedroom, positioning my body and belongings so that nothing of mine could be lifted without waking me up (ie always sleeping with my backpack strap wrapped around my arm and placing the bag under my head).
Putting my ID and credit card in separate pockets from wallet when walking through neighborhoods where I may get mugged.
Not going into bars with friendly people I meet in touristy places.
Reading about common scams and petty crime in places you’ll be spending time.
Walking a little further to find an ATM off the beaten path
Hell, I have a whole list just for using ATMs now, which I’ll spare you.
Heightened awareness and lowered trust in those around you is a good start when it comes to protecting your belongings. That said, it’s impractical and quite frankly, unenjoyable to go through life with your guard completely up. Following all of these tips will lower your chances of being robbed, but they unfortunately rob you of a lot of the carefree vibes that help make traveling so magical.
No matter how secure you want to be, on some occasions, trusting in others is essential. On one such occasion in France, I put my suitcase with nearly all of my belongings into the trunk of a car whose owner I had just met ten hours earlier. I took down every piece of contact info she had, verified the numbers, and stood on the side of the road at 3:30 AM waving as she drove off. I let her take my luggage so that I could hike a mountain the next day to check off what has long been on my life’s bucket list: watching a stage of the Tour de France! Sometimes, in order to maximize your experience, trusting in others is essential and you have to rely on your judgement of the situational context and people involved.
Sleeping on the train, leaving things in hostels during the day, or even just handing a cell phone to a stranger so they can take a photo of you in front of the a landmark are all little risks travelers take daily (some without a second thought). All are small opportunities to slide right or left on the spectrum between blind trust and paranoia. Forgo the nap? Bring everything in your day-bag so you don’t leave anything behind in the hostel? Skip the touristy photo op and just hold onto the phone? These are all examples of tiny decisions that affect both your security and sanity while traveling.
- ProTip: if handing someone a phone/camera to take your photo, ask the most obese person you see because 1) they can’t run off with it 2) they’re probably American so there won’t be a language barrier.
One thing every traveler should do is prioritize what is valuable. Valuable may not be the same as expensive. As a photographer, the most valuable things I had were the devices that held all of my photos, my camera, wallet, and passport. Everything beyond that I didn’t worry so much about. Figure out what items would be most painful to lose, and focus mainly on protecting them.
While cautiousness is essential for security, trust is essential for sanity. From a security standpoint, trust is stupid; it’s betting on the good in those around you. It also happens to be a key building block of interpersonal relationships and dramatically enhances the lives we lead. Every once in a while, though, trust can burn you. For anyone looking to get the most out of their travels while simultaneously keeping themselves and their belongings safe, finding a balance between cautiousness and trust is paramount.
During my time in Europe, especially since getting robbed, I guarded my valuables constantly. For seven months straight, if my Canon 6D wasn’t under lock and key, it was on my person. I carried it everywhere I went for about 14 hours a day, including Praia do Camilo on that beautiful afternoon. The following day I decided to return, this time with my camera, wallet, passport, and phone locked away in my hostel safe. I felt an unparalleled level of freedom walking the streets of Lagos this time. My shoulder, accustomed to the weight of my camera strap, felt light under a towel. I wasn’t able to take any photographs that afternoon, but the water felt incredible.