“They’ve bugged our room,” I postulated to Bob in the taxi from the airport. “I bet they hid video cameras inside.” That aspect of shooting a documentary hadn’t occurred to me.
Our hotel is a former monastery carved into a hillside. With an outrageous view, it overlooks the entire city we’ve come to infiltrate. It’s a pleasing dichotomy: after years of sweaty skulking lowdown among the gritty streets, we now look down on the calm innocence of colorful rooftops which belie the commotion of the city and its criminal activities.
We opened the door of our room to find its lovely decor largely hidden behind draped cloths, booms, electrical cords, and extra light fixtures. The room’s chandelier was wrapped in pink gel (colored cellophane used to alter theatrical lighting) and cloaked in black fabric studded with clothespins. The bedside sconces were half-covered with foil. The ambiance of the room was pretty much destroyed.
The crew followed us in for a few arrival shots and immediately dismantled much of the equipment before leaving us in privacy. As soon as the door closed and we were alone, I got up to sweep the place for hidden cameras. Is that one in the middle of the gilt scrollwork of the sconce in the dressing area? What about the handles of the closet door? Behind the translucent panel covering the electrical fuses?
Entering the bathroom I stopped dead in my tracks. The ceiling lights were gelled. In the bathroom! What shots do they need in the bathroom? Nobody’s talking. At this point, we still don’t know.
This is Part 3 of THE MAKING OF OUR NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC DOCUMENTARY, PICKPOCKET KING. The film is about us, Bob Arno and Bambi Vincent. We are “thiefhunters in paradise.” The paradise we chose for the story is the warm and wild city of Naples, Italy, home to the world’s best pickpockets. The documentary premieres December 2 at 8pm ET/PT on the National Geographic Channel.
—Originally posted 9/11/10 and soon thereafter password-protected at the request of the producer.
That was one of the first sentences directed to me upon landing in our location city. We did not collect our luggage because it didn’t arrive. As we came out of the airport, our film crew was waiting. We did not make the expected dramatic appearance pushing a mountain of aluminum cases on two trolleys. It was just us, dragging our carry-on.
The soundman needed to mic me in the airport lobby. With exquisite courtesy in his accented English, he inquired about my undergarments. He needed a sturdy mount for the mic.
It took two hours to rig our taxi with cameras and lights. You think a documentary is just a camera following the action, but the action must be lit and wired for sound.
Light panels are mounted on the taxi ceiling and backseat windows. White reflecting fabric helps brighten the scene. It’s dark before we get moving.
Our film director hinted of some sort of surprise to be found inside our hotel room. The room and hotel are gorgeous, we were promised. But whatever it was that we’d find in the room was left intentionally ambiguous.
There’s a lot about this project that’s ambiguous, or at least unknown. We know what we’re looking for and we know what resources and how much time we have for the search. But we don’t know what we’ll find. We’re meddling in a criminal subculture and can’t predict the reaction we’ll elicit from the thieves. And what about their bosses? If we’re poking into organized crime—and we believe we are—will the bosses feel threatened? Will they be angered? Or will they just smirk and laugh at us?
This is Part 2 of THE MAKING OF OUR NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC DOCUMENTARY, PICKPOCKET KING. The film is about us, Bob Arno and Bambi Vincent. We are “thiefhunters in paradise.” The paradise we chose for the story is the warm and wild city of Naples, Italy, home to the world’s best pickpockets. The documentary premieres December 2 at 8pm ET/PT on the National Geographic Channel.
—Originally posted 9/10/10 and soon thereafter password-protected at the request of the producer.
Day 1—TIME TO MAKE an announcement. Our long-dreamed of, long-worked-for project has become reality. Bob and I are making a documentary about pickpockets. The shoot starts now! We have an incredible team, and backing us is National Geographic, the fantasy of any serious documentary-maker. And we have a film director, Kun Chang, whose passion and persistence has been the engine of our project for more than four years.
Bob and I have been on our feet countless, endless days, for the past seventeen years in pursuit of pickpockets. We find, follow, and film the thieves, talk to them, and interview them. Dropping into the most fabulous locations of the world, we give short shrift to museums and monuments, and instead lurk among the tourists, preying on their prey. In the name of research, we people-watch. We’ve slowly acquired better and better video equipment, and a massive archive of crime footage.
Time to do something with it.
We’re on location now in a European city we chose for the main filming of our documentary. Over the next numerous posts, I intend to share the excitement, successes, and surprises of our journey as we dive ever deeper into the world of pickpockets. I don’t mean to be coy if I only hint of tantalizing details; certain aspects are contractually unmentionable until broadcast.
This is Part 1 of THE MAKING OF OUR NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC DOCUMENTARY, PICKPOCKET KING. The film is about us, Bob Arno and Bambi Vincent. We are “thiefhunters in paradise.” The paradise we chose for the story is the warm and wild city of Naples, Italy, home to the world’s best pickpockets. The documentary premieres December 2 at 8pm ET/PT on the National Geographic Channel.
—Originally posted 9/9/10 and soon thereafter password-protected at the request of the producer.
Your greed + a deal too good to pass up = bait and switch:
One package contains the real item; the other is "rocks-in-a-box"
Buy-a-Brick
“Pssssst. Come ’ere. A brand new video camera with flip-out screen. In the box. $250. Here, have a look, try it out. Look, here’s the box, and all the accessories. Battery, a/c adapter, microphone. Only $225? Mama mia! Okay, it’s yours! Here, we’ll put it in the box for you, see? And a bag so you can carry it easily. Okay, thank you very much. Here’s your bag.”
You saw him put the camera in the box. You saw him put the box in the bag. So how did you end up with a sack of salt?
A better question: What were you doing trying to buy a thousand-dollar video camera on a street corner? What were you thinking?
Yes, the seller looked like a decent man, he seemed okay. But that wasn’t his son with him, it was his partner; and their performance together is as precise as a tango. Not only that, there are four or five teams per corner in the hottest areas, competing with such subtlety you’d never suspect they’re running a scam. After all, if they let on, you’re not likely to buy from any of them.
Bait and switch
As usual, observation tells the story. The swindler approaches you with the camera and, once you take it in your hands, he summons his partner, who brings a plastic shopping bag through which you can see a box. The box is opened for you and you see that it contains the promised accessories.
How can you go wrong? You’ll take it! You place the camera in the box yourself, tuck in the flap. You dig for your cash, which you cleverly placed in a pouch beneath your shirt, or in a money belt, or in your sock. You offer the money and take the bag. You even shake hands. What a deal. What a steal!
What you never noticed was the critical switch. You were intentionally distracted for an eyeblink, while the “son” passed by with an identical box in an identical bag. The bags were swapped. It’s the classic bait and switch.
You might think it difficult to fall for a scam like this one, but it happens many times a day on a certain corner in Naples. Ship officers and crewmen are primary targets because the con men know their ships depart shortly after the purchase and it’s unlikely they’ll return. Ordinary tourists are also easily tempted.
Bob and I first observed this trick in 1994, and have watched it develop over the years to include cellphones. In the beginning we were afraid to film it. From pickpocketing and bag-snatching-by-motor scooter to extortion and murder, all crime in Naples is said to be mob-related. The Camorra, Naples’ mafia, is made up of some 80 clans and thousands of members who operate in the city. Not that Bob and I knew that when we began our audacious stake-out of these grandfatherly crooks. But the vague knowledge we had was intimidating enough for a couple of lightweights. If you want to infiltrate the bad guys, you better know what you’re doing.
Eventually we began to film from across the street, and then to acquire bits and pieces up close with an exposed camera held casually. After all, tourists carry cameras and shoot the sights, so ours wouldn’t be incongruous. The following year we were more brazen, and carried a small digital video camera hidden in a shopping bag with a hole cut for its lens. This worked fairly well, though we were nervous as a thief in the act. It was this setup that got us our first clear footage of what we’d seen with our eyes so many times: the switch.
The move is simplicity itself; its timing perfection. The salesman tries to back up to a corner of a building, usually a magazine kiosk or a phone booth, anything to shield the substitution. That allows him to lower his hand and the bag while his unseen partner does the swap.
Our first clear capture of the actual swap occurred on a sidewalk.
Hi, Bob Arno here. First, thank you all for passionate comments (here and here) on our National Geographic documentary, Pickpocket King.
To a certain extent the majority of these comments are right, in individual or personal observations. For example, some of you have mentioned that you have friends who have come and visited Napoli and have never experienced any trouble. And of course it’s true, you can certainly visit Naples and never see a pickpocket, and you may even take a tram from the main train station down to the port and not be brushed into.
The same observations go for other cities that have even more daily pickpocket incidents; for example Paris and Barcelona. So, one can summarize that Napoli is not at the top of the list if we are only measuring daily figures, versus per capita numbers. But it is not our point in the program, or our agenda in this blog, to prove that Naples is especially high in statistics.
Naples is unique from another angle, compared with other European cities. Its pickpocketing is concentrated within a specific region of the city and on certain public transportation routes. That is a fact. And from a technical viewpoint, Naples can be perceived as a pickpocket capital—in finesse and in execution. The pickpockets’ teamwork and coordination is extremely accomplished. I don’t think anyone wants to hear why; we are not out to glorify the pickpockets as some kind of Olympian athletes. Maybe in another post. The first raw version of the documentary, an early edit, showed more details of their skills, but this was toned down so that young and impressionable viewers would not be inspired to follow in the tracks of these thieves.
Pickpocketing in Naples often, maybe even as a rule, follows a specific and intrinsic pattern in which at least three members in a troupe operate. It’s difficult for the police to penetrate this operation, unless certain laws are changed. Laws which at present are in line with the rest of EU laws, including where there is less of this crime. For example, we might see pickpockets in Copenhagen during the summer months, but rarely with the sophistication of those who practice in Naples.
So, for those who say they see more pickpocket activity in other European cities than in Naples, that may be true for them personally, but in no way does this prove our film theme wrong. The premise (and the fact) was that we could arrive in Naples with a team of camera operators using hidden equipment and, within ten minutes on our first day out, be successfully “hit.” That is not luck; it’s an understanding of the local scene.
By the way, I’ve done television programs on pickpocketing in many cities, including Barcelona, Rome, Las Vegas, New York, Stockholm, Prague, and others. For sure, Naples has the world’s most charming pickpockets.
We hope that those who saw the film armed with preconceived notions will comment after screening the program. And let us all hope that Naples finds a social program that offers these practitioners of an old “art” some sort of re-schooling to enter society with a fresh attitude, where nobody takes advantage of another human.
In Naples, Italy, media reports concerning our upcoming National Geographic pickpocket documentary have stirred up serious controversy. A large number of citizens have become upset, despite not having seen the film. More than a thousand have signed a petition demanding that the program not be broadcast this Sunday, September 25, in Italy.
The petitioners believe that the film will give Naples a bad reputation. (Uh, Naples already has a certain reputation, folks.) Whether broadcast in Italy or not, the documentary, Pickpocket King, will play in the rest of the world, with most countries airing it between now and the end of the year.
Naples deserves much more treatment and attention from the NG. The “documentary” shot with the help of actors is detrimental to the image of Naples from the title, but rather affirms the false! According to ministry data Napoli is not in any way being the first city in number of pickpockets! A giant transmitting information such as the NG this “documentary” yet another deal, free low blow to the city of Naples to zero the work of active citizenship and associations that try to do every day out of Naples, a new image, the true, that of a big, beautiful capital of Europe is unique in the world! Among the many, even our work, our tribute to the City of Naples, to which we have dedicated an entire project “Another Naples” http://www.oceanus.it/it/progetti/another-naples.html Here following the first 1000 signatures collected in less than three days, from September 23 to 20 at night, to ask the non-airing of the “documentary” National Geographic “Naples, the King of pickpockets” scheduled for Sunday, September 25, 2011.
I have pruned the 1,023 petitioners’ names from the post.
Bob and I want to emphasize that we adore the city of Naples (from a visitor’s perspective, of course). While shooting the documentary we made a conscious effort (easily accomplished) to highlight the beauty and charm of Naples.
Afterwards, in the editing room, the filmmaking team of director, producer, and editors had a story to tell and a finite number of minutes in which to tell it. Sadly, much great stuff was cut which portrayed the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. As always after a successful “shoot,” all parties to the making of the documentary were disappointed to see the loss of this fantastic scene or that poignant image because ruthless editing was required.
Here, Bob Arno replies to Oceanus ngo and the issues raised:
Hello Oceanus ngo. Thanks for sharing your concerns. We are not representatives of National Geographic, and we have no influence as to the program’s title. I even doubt that its head office has editorial input in the marketing of its programs outside the United States.
While I cannot address your dismay over the title, I would like to comment on a more sensitive point: the prevalence of pickpocketing in Naples compared to other European cities.
Real pickpocket statistics are impossible to acquire anywhere. First, how do you define “pickpocketing?” Tearing a handbag off a shoulder from a scooter? Ripping off a Rolex? A wallet or passport cleverly extracted from a fanny pack on a bus?
Official statistics are based on police reports. Reports tend to fall into multiple categories. We’ve written extensively about all this here.
We have spent considerable time researching Naples, actually in Naples, every year for the past 18 years. We research many, many other cities as well.
In the summer months, Naples has more cruise ship visitors than hotel guests. How likely is it that a typical cruise ship passenger experiences a theft in Naples, versus in St. Petersburg, Barcelona, or Istanbul? All these cities have pickpocketing at various level, and all cater to cruise ship passengers.
This brief reply is not the forum to explain all the complicated details of statistics. The majority of travelers, and especially those who visit this blog, are more interested in intriguing anecdotes of various cons and scams, and how to protect themselves when traveling abroad.
Here is a summarization of my thoughts regarding this Sunday’s broadcast:
1. Generally, only 30% (or fewer) of victims ever bother to visit a police station to report a theft, and even fewer cruise passengers because their ships usually depart at four or five p.m. A rule of thumb: there are usually 70% more incidents than statistics show.
2. Some cities “massage” these reports even further for various reasons. I do not know what the official daily or weekly counts are in Naples. There may be a political agenda, for example, requesting more funds for police; or the opposite, less money for law enforcement.
3. A large number of tourists who “visit Naples” head straight out of town for Pompeii, Capri, and the Amalfi Coast—cruise ship passengers, for example. While these tourists have officially “visited Naples,” they have not strolled around town. Of those who do experience the charm of the streets of Naples, and especially of those who brave public transportation, the proportion of pickpocket incidents is higher than in any other city we have researched (and we have researched many around the world). This conclusion is based on our constant survey of visitors to Naples, the number of pickpockets we have observed “at work” and interviewed, and the vast number of times we have been pickpocketed ourselves (sometimes several times in a single day). Granted, our wallet is empty for the sake of research, but we do not make it easy for or tempt pickpockets. We simply behave as any tourists.
4. Some cities with pickpocketing problems have used more draconian legal maneuvers to fight the crime. For example: in Paris video cameras are mounted on train platforms coupled with new legal statutes. In France, it is now a crime for a pickpocket (who already has one conviction) to begin even the first step in a sequence of moves to extract a wallet, such as “fanning,” which is brushing against the victim’s pockets to establish where the money is.
Professional pickpockets even have their own lists of cities where they like to visit in order to practice their “art.” Barcelona is number one in pickpocket-preference, because of the ineffective legal system. Paris, on the other hand is now disliked because of the cameras and the new law.
5. Compared to other Italian cities, for example Rome or Bologna, an uninformed visitor stands a higher chance of a pickpocket confrontation in a concentrated area, including on local transportation. That the skill of Naples’ pickpockets is exceptionally high. We say this after having witnessed in excess of 500 pickpocketing incidents around the world.
6. The double-threat of pickpocketing coupled with credit card fraud is not high in Naples. “Shoulder-surfing” and breaking of credit card pin codes is higher in other cities. It is the actual extraction skill and success rate that is exceptionally high in Naples.
7. Media across Europe and especially travel companies always warn their travelers to be very careful when visiting Napoli. This is a reputation gained over many years of visitors returning home with unfortunate experiences. It is also true that Napoli today has regained a reputation as a fun city with energy and flair.
We, personally, consider Naples one of the most charming cities in Europe. An absolute “must see” for any traveler; the restaurants, the shopping, the old city, the waterfront, the coffee shops, the great historical sites, the extension of the Amalfi coast, side trips to Capri and the unbelievable warmth of the people—its friendliness!
Yes, an entire program could be made about the pulse of the city and its people. But is there a “will” to clean up the criminal mess? It will take a monstrous effort, a strong focus on correcting a certain social malaise, and the re-education of those who are still in the quagmire of criminal activity. We’re back to money and available funds in a time when all of Europe is contracting.
Nobody wants to hear what two outsiders like ourselves have to say about the measures which are necessary. You have your own experts. But I am confident that if you can direct sufficient energy into giving the hundred or so professional pickpockets in Naples opportunities for new jobs, you would be able to clean up the image of Naples within two years. Expose the problem and offer alternatives. Others might say: why help these bastards?
8. The Italian media in Napoli has mentioned (in the few articles we have managed to read) that the program depended on actors and that it is not a true documentary. This is not so. I have not seen the Italian version of the program, so I cannot speak with absolute authority on this matter. But I can say that, apart from a short demonstration of bag-snatching from a motor-scooter, there are no actors. There is also a short segment in which two former pickpockets are interviewed and asked to re-enact some moves. They are not actors either. Since they gave up pickpocketing to find new careers, they also hoped for small parts in movies. Hopefully this will happen for them.
Their parts are brief, and the film does not concentrate on their action, or their participation. All the other pickpockets in this documentary are themselves; not actors, but professional thieves. I have seen some of them “working” trams and buses over a ten-year period.
If those in Naples who are fortunate enough to have a stable job and income are concerned that National Geographic will cast an ugly image upon their beloved city, I say they are wrong. This documentary does not portray Naples as especially dangerous or threatening. It simply follows my hunt for a specific individual, and shows how I then “connect” with his team.
One might say that I am “fooling” the thieves—our term is “social engineering”—because our ultimate goal is to educate the world on the methods of skilled pickpockets. The outcome, after watching a film like this one, is that the viewer will better understand how to behave when traveling, and how to avoid the unfortunate incidents they will never forget. In that endeavor we are extremely successful. Far more so than the police. We make people aware—through this platform, through books, and through stage presentations in which we mix “reality” with comedy show-business. The lasting impression is one that is never forgotten. We have literally thousands of thank-you notes to prove the success of our campaign.
Bob and I are thrilled to announce the world premiere of the documentary we shot late last year with National Geographic. Pickpocket King features us, Bob Arno and Bambi Vincent, as “thiefhunters in paradise.” The paradise we chose for the story is the warm and wild city of Naples, Italy, home to the world’s best pickpockets.
National Geographic has just posted a clip. [As of October 9, the clip is no longer available.]
In the film, stage pickpocket Bob Arno faces off against a gang of the world’s best criminal pickpockets. The thieves demonstrate their trickiest (and most lucrative) steals. Bob and Bambi are invited to a splendid dinner with thieves, where lively thefts intersperse the endless courses.
The #1 pickpocket’s conclusion: “Bob. You and I do the same thing, but you make people laugh. I make them cry.”
The documentary’s international premiere begins this month, region by region and week by week. Watch for it in your local listing. I will post schedules as I receive them.
We received another long email last Friday from a thief we know in Naples, Italy. Between his flowery prose on the trials and tribulation of the pickpocket profession, and his disclosures of the career aspirations of his young adult children, he informed us of the news that is now everywhere:
Some days ago two thugs tried to snatch the gold Rolex of an American tourist who was off a cruise ship. He died this morning at the hospital. I’m so sorry about this thing.
I’m not sure if our pickpocket friend ever has or would steal a Rolex. As far as we know, he specializes in wallets taken from pockets. Clearly, he does not see himself as a “thug;” no—they are a completely different category of thief.
The American cruise ship passenger died on May 27, never having recovered from injuries sustained when the two hoodlums tried to steal his Rolex on May 18. He’d been strolling with his wife, not far from his ship, and not long on the ground.
A Rolex thief in Naples demonstrated how he jumps off his Vespa scooter and twists off the watch.
Sad but inevitable, considering the frequency of these crimes. I’m sad not only for the 66-year-old victim, Oscar Antonio Mendoza, 66, of Puerto Rico, and his family, but also sad for Naples. The city has so much to offer visitors, not least the warmth and liveliness of its populace. Its reputation as crime-infested already has the tourism industry recommending nearby towns instead of Naples.
Unlike Barcelona, where a huge crime wave largely targeting tourists is perpetrated almost exclusively by foreigners from a few specific regions, in Naples, the perpetrators are local mobsters. They are destroying their own city. (One could say that Barcelona also is destroying itself by allowing foreign robbers free reign.)
Our Napolitano pickpocket friend considers his style of robbery above the brute-force-thuggery that eventually killed the American tourist. While holding himself to certain standards, he simultaneously laments his line of work; an odd mixture of pride and shame. He is a religious man. His youngest son, he just told us, “aspires to be a priest—even a pope! It always amazes me that if he attains this vocation, can you imagine? Dad doing the borseggiatore and his son is an angel” Borseggiatore— that’s pickpocket. The irony doesn’t escape our poetic pickpocket friend.
“You remember that famous movie, the one shot in Naples?” shouted Officer DC. “In this restaurant they filmed that movie. The whole world knows this section of Napoli.” He gunned his motorcycle and he, with Bob on the back, left me in the dust on the back of Officer M’s bike.
DC and M are Falchi—Falcons—two of Naples’ anti-theft plainclothes motorcycle warriors. The squad was launched in 1995 to fight, among other criminals, scippatori, the pickpockets and purse-snatchers who operate on motor scooters. Patrolling the city on souped-up motorcycles, the Falcons fight speed with speed, power with power, and strength with strength.
Our motorcycle excursion through Quartieri Spagnoli was not exactly a wind-in-the-hair power-ride, but it was bracing, a cop’s-eye view and guided tour of one huge crime scene. Hugging the backs of these brawny, spiky-haired, Levi-clad, cool dudes, we felt immune to danger—there, at ground level, but in a protective bubble.
Bob and DC had stopped to talk with a guy on a Vespa as M and I caught up with them.
Officer DC, Bob Arno, and a Rolex thief
“This is AS, one of the best scippatori,” DC said. “He’s an expert with Rolexes.” The cop turned to AS: “These are two journalists from America. They want to interview you.”
“What are you doing here?”
“We’re making a touristic tour,” DC said with a sweeping gesture.
“How many Rolexes do you take?” Bob asked. He had a video camera in his hand but it was pointed at the ground.
“In a week? It depends. Where are they going to show this movie?”
“In America. In Las Vegas. Hey—this man is better than you at stealing!”
AS didn’t react. “Are you filming this? Are you filming me and everything?”
“How many watches do you take in a week?” Bob persisted.
“I take maybe ten Rolexes in one week. Hey, I don’t like this movie you’re making. You’re going to show a bad image of Napoli.”
“This guy makes films about crime in all different cities. Quartieri Spagnoli will be famous in America.”
“AS, how much do you get for one Rolex?”
“$16,000 [in US$]. For, you know, the one with diamonds all around.”
“Now we are friends with Bob. We can visit him in America!” Officer DC started his bike.
“Can I call you on the phone?” Bob asked. “Later, when I find someone to speak Italian for me?”
“No, I don’t want to give you my phone number.”
“Bob is okay, we’ve known him for many years.” Translation: give him your number.
“Okay, you can call me. Here’s my number.”
“Why is it different? Is it new?”
“Ah, I changed the SIM card.” Translation: I’m using a different stolen phone.
Bob and I had wanted a good look at Quartieri Spagnoli ever since our unexpected introduction to a trio of scippatori—from behind. We’d heard from other officers that the police don’t even go into this district except in squads of four or more. It was a war zone, they told us. Neapolitans disown Quartieri Spagnoli as other Italians disown Naples.
As we rode through the narrow lanes, DC told us about his symbiotic relationship with AS.
“AS has a lot of respect for me, that is why he gave you his number. He gives me information about the criminals here. We cooperate.”
A Rolex thief and a cop
AS is an informer—he rats on major drug activity. In exchange, the Falchi close their eyes to AS’s vocation. Unless, that is, a tourist comes complaining to the police about a Rolex theft. In those cases, Officer DC can have a chat with AS, and AS can do some digging, find out who did the swipe, and try to recover the item. Not that it always works….
DC stopped his bike to point out some of the quarter’s highlights.
“Look at all the laundry hanging from the balconies. Typical for this area. And here, this is one of the squares where the mob is very big, the Camorra. They all have their own areas and their own crimes—drugs, prostitution, stealing…”
“Do the grandmothers really sit in the upper windows watching for Rolexes?” I asked. It sounded like a myth, but I’d heard many times that theft here was a family affair.
Someone whistled—the piercing, two-finger type.
“That means police,” DC said. “They’re warning their friends that we’re here. Yes, the women sit on their balconies and when they see something to steal they call their sons or grandsons to come by on their scooters. It’s true.” He twisted around to look at Bob. “You must be careful with your video camera. These are gangs of thieves we’re passing and they’re looking at it. They can steal it.”
We paused in front of the funicular, the very one that inspired the classic Neapolitan song “Funiculi, Funicula.”
“Here in Piazza Montesanto there are many pickpockets, near the underground station. They steal many wallets in this area. And the funiculare is here. We have four video cameras watching this Piazza. There’s a lot of drug dealing here, too.”
Most tourists never venture into these areas of Naples’ old town and, but for the threat of theft, it’s a shame. Although we have no excuse to describe them in this book about criminals, most Napolitanos are warm and welcoming toward visitors; Bob and I adore their casual, urbane tradition. With its lively outdoor culture and its heart on its sleeve, Quartieri Spagnoli is the heart and soul of the place I call the city of hugs and thugs.
A Rolex thief demonstrates how a watch is grabbed, twisted, and broken during a steal.
Wristwatches are a classic subject of seizure. The problem is not widespread, but concentrated largely in specific locales. Naples, Italy, is only one of them.
José, a day visitor there, stopped on Via Toledo to photograph a colorful produce stand. As he walked away with his wife, his Rolex was snatched from his wrist. He turned in time to see a teenage boy running up into the narrow alleys of Quartieri Spagnoli, bystanders watching with no apparent concern.
A cruise ship captain had his Rolex ripped off from the perceived safety of a taxi stopped in traffic, as he rested his arm on the open window. And a grocer we met, a Napolitano, said the motorcycle bandits, scippatori, had tried to grab his Rolex four times, and finally succeeded. He had a new one now, but showed us the cheap watch he switched to before leaving his store every day with the Rolex in his pocket.
In Caracas, 17 members of an organized tour paused in a square to view a statue of Bolivar. While the tour guide lectured, a pair of men in business suits jumped a Japanese couple who stood at the back of the group. They were wrestled to the ground, their Rolexes pried off their wrists, and the well-dressed thieves on their escape before anyone could spring into action.
Bob Arno’s multi-step steal is just as fast as a thief’s, but doesn’t break the watch.Bob Arno’s multi-step steal is just as fast as a thief’s, but doesn’t break the watch.
After watching my husband, Bob Arno, demonstrate watch steals in his show, people come up to us with wrists outstretched. “But they couldn’t get this one, could they? It’s even hard for me to unclasp.”
Watch-stealing
Bob’s theatrical techniques are totally unlike the street thieves’ methods. Bob’s stage steals are designed to climax with the surprise return of an intact watch. The thief, on the other hand, cares not if the victim notices or if the watch breaks. In the street, a watch thief gets his quick fingers under the face of the watch and pulls with a twist, snapping the tiny pins that connect the watch to its strap.
The readily recognizable Rolex is a universal symbol of wealth. Its instant ID factor makes it not only a conspicuous target, but highly desirable on the second-hand market. Even a fraction of its “hot” price brings big bucks to the thief and the fence.
Outside of Naples, in South Africa, Brazil, and England for example, seizure of Rolex watches is big business often perpetrated by Nigerian gangs, who send shipments of these status symbols to eager dealers in the Middle East. Who would guess that watch-snatching was so organized, so global?
