Ambush in Rio de Janeiro

After spending nearly 2 weeks in the Amazon Rainforest and enduring a brutal bout of food poisoning, I arrived in Rio de Janeiro in need of a fresh start. I spent a few days visiting the iconic sites, like Sugarloaf Mountain. On what was supposed to be my final day in Rio, I went to Ipanema Beach and Copacabana Beach. I went early that morning, hoping to snap some photos before catching a bus for São Paulo. But, destiny had other plans for me. 

The beach was nearly empty, just a few runners and beach volleyball players. As I stood at the end of the beach taking pictures, three guys approached me. One of them was a small child who grabbed my cellphone from my hand, and another larger guy attacked me from behind, putting me in a chokehold until I was unconscious. 

I woke up dazed, lying on the ground where I had been taking photos. I sat on the ground, stunned, by everything that had just transpired, trying to piece together what had just happened. As an epileptic, I wondered if I had had a seizure. I looked at the bruises on my abdomen and the blood streaming down my arms and face and the memories came flooding back, and I remembered what had happened. I was worried that the robbers might still be nearby. I looked around for my belongings. My phone was nowhere to be seen, but my backpack, DSLR camera, cash, and credit cards were still lying on the ground next to me. Still, part of me felt like crying. 

As I stood up in a daze, still processing what had happened, a Brazilian couple out for a run passed by me and looked at me in shock. They couldn’t speak any English, and my Portuguese was insufficient to explain what had happened. I used hand gestures to explain, and they lead me to a police car parked along the shore. 

I thanked them profusely, and the friendly officer drove me to a tourist police station in a completely different section of Rio de Janeiro, far from Ipanema Beach. I washed the blood from my face and arms and sat down with an investigator to explain what had happened. I was there for at least three hours. 

They took me to a police hospital for a silly, superficial examination by a doctor. I sat in a hot waiting room with a police officer for 45 minutes, and when I finally spoke to the doctor, she just asked, “What happened?” and “Show me your wounds.” Then, she typed something into a computer, gave me a paper, and we returned to the station.

While all of this was happening, I was desperate to log into my Apple account and block my iPhone. The officer told me it was not possible, and I would have to wait until I got back to my hotel. Eventually, one of the officers agreed to lend me her computer, but the internet was less than 1 Mbps, far too slow to log into my account.

This very kind investigator handling the case finally let me leave, assuring me that he would promptly start his investigation. Yet, the chances of retrieving my phone were very slim. 

I returned to my hotel well past checkout time in a patrol car. An officer accompanied me inside and explained to the owner what had happened. The officer brought me into a side room, gave me his WhatsApp number, and asked me to stay in Rio de Janeiro for the next few days. He explained that there was a possibility I would need to return to the station if there were any developments in the case or a suspect to identify. 

I frantically ran to my room to lock my phone and credit cards, but it was already too late. The thieves had unlinked the phone from “Find My iPhone,” hacked into my Gmail and credit cards, locked me out of my Apple ID, and attempted to transfer $8,000 from one of my bank accounts. It was a massive inconvenience, but I managed to block the bank transfer and change all my passwords. However, it took about a month to recover all my accounts. Sadly, most of my photos from Rio de Janeiro were irretrievable.

I did as the officer instructed and spent the next four days in Rio recuperating at that hotel and awaiting a message from the police. Each day, I messaged the officer to see if there was any news about the case, but I never received a response.

Nearly a year later, I received an email from the station with a selection of mugshots, asking if I recognized any of them. One of the suspects was involved in the mugging, but I never heard anything more about what happened to him.

Before ever visiting Rio, I had heard stories about police corruption and their involvement with the gangs. After experiencing it firsthand, my theory is that the officers I spoke with were also corrupt. I think they were likely prolonging the process at the police station to give the thieves time to hack my phone, and I believe they were purposely ignoring my messages because they never intended to pursue the case seriously.

So, would I return to Rio de Janeiro? Absolutely! It’s not at the top of my list, but not because of this incident, rather because I have other priorities. When I return someday, I will travel with my close Brazilian friend and exercise more caution with my valuables in the street. 

It was a traumatic experience, and is still unsettling to think of what could’ve happened. But this is the risk you sometimes take as a traveler. In the end, it’s just another crazy travel story.