The following is a true story:

This is the true story of what happened to me during my vacation in Greece, and I wish to share it with anyone planning to take a trip out that way. It is very important that you know about the incidents that have befallen tourists, myself included.

I am a 22 year old student from the Czech republic. I wish I could give you my name, because I realize that withholding my name hurts the credibility of this online story, but the company I work for does a lot of business with Greece and has asked me not to identify myself specifically.

This summer, 1999, I stayed on the island of Crete in the city of Hersonissos for one month. My 19 year old cousin, who was present during the incident in question, joined me in the last two weeks of this stay. On the 21st of September, we rented a car and drove to Sissi (a small village, 15 km from Hersonissos). It was about 09:00 when I accidentally rear-ended another driver, only about 1 km outside of the city. No one was hurt. A police man at the side of the road doing speed checks (radar), saw the accident and took charge of the case.

We can not tell you the police officer's name, but we were later told that he was known to most people as "Rambo" for his history of brutality and his attitude. When we stepped out of the car, he approached us and began yelling at me in English, asking if I was crazy and saying that he thought I was a danger to kids on the street (even though we were on the highway outside the city). I didn't answer him because I didn't really know what to say (and I was still quite shocked that I had caused a car accident).

He asked me where I was from, and I didn't understand him the first time because he had a thick accent. Then he asked me again, even angrier because (I think) he thought I didn't want to tell him. I think he thought my cousin and I were illegal workers, which I'm told is a big problem in Greece. By this point he was close enough to grab me, and as I was telling him that I am from Czech he turned me around and threw me hard against the car like you see in exaggerated American movies. He twisted my arms way up behind my back and handcuffed me. Honestly, I was behaving calmly, so there was just no logical reason for his violent anger.

As he was handcuffing me, he was still yelling and he said that he thought I was drunk and that was why I was driving quickly and dangerously. Obviously, I was driving too fast but I didn't expect the car in front of me to stop so suddenly when he saw the radar speed trap. I don't know why he was getting so angry, because I was completely powerless at this point, but I thought that he was going to hit me right there on the street. A police car drove up at that point, probably on routine patrol because I didn't see Rambo call anyone, and I was thrown into the back and taken to the police station back in Hersonissos. This left my young cousin (who speaks even less Greek than I do) alone on the highway with a broken rental car, and she had to hitch hike back to the city, go to my apartment to find my passport, and then find the police station. She thinks that this took about 1 hour.

During this time, the police car I was being transported in arrived at the station and I was taken to the police Chief's office. This man acted very kind and sympathetic at first, and I felt very relieved after dealing with Rambo. Because I don't speak Greek very well, which is the only language the Chief spoke, we communicated in English through Rambo. They had me fill out some paperwork and sign Greek documents even though I couldn't read what they said. Twice, while I was doing this, the Chief kicked me hard in the back, near my kidneys. I can't think of any reason why he should do this. They kept telling me that I was drunk, even though I told them I hadn't had anything to drink since the night before. I know that I had not had too much to drink, and they did not give me any tests to check.

When my cousin arrived, she brought my passport to the Chief's office, but was not allowed to come in or even to see me. She was told to wait in the lobby, where Rambo came out and asked her questions about my drinking and told her she should be scared of him and tell the truth. He was a very big man, and he acted aggressively towards her, even though she told him the truth, just like I did. I was brought out to see her a few minutes later. I had been released from the handcuffs to fill out the paperwork, but then they put them back on me (behind my back) and I had to ask a different officer in the lobby to put them on in front of me instead. I was told to empty my pockets (still wearing the handcuffs) and then they sat me down on the opposite side of the lobby from my cousin and left us there for 25 minutes.

Rambo told me to follow him down to the basement (where there were a couple of unlit cells, 2 meters by 2 meters, containing only an old mattress filthy with blood and vomit) and he closed the door behind us so that my cousin was left alone again in the lobby. He made me take off my shoes and glasses, then he hit me several times in the stomach and in the back, near my kidneys. He also took my head in his hands and bashed my face against the bars of the cell a few times. My cousin tells me that she could hear Rambo yelling at me about being drunk and she could hear me screaming in pain, but there was nothing she could do. This only took a few minutes, then he left me in the dark and went upstairs to tell my cousin I had to be taken to the capitol city hospital for blood alcohol tests, and that she should come back in about 3 hours. She believed him, and went back to my apartment.

They never took me to any hospital or performed any tests on me. For three hours I was alone in the dark, except when Rambo would come down for a few minutes to hit me some more. I demanded the right to call my embassy, but he just yelled in my face that he was a Greek police man and I was in Greece so he was the boss.

In the cell next to me, an Albanian told me that he had been locked up for days, and he had not committed any crimes (I did not ask if he entered the country illegally - Greece considers it's number of Albanian refugees a real problem). I had no idea how long I was going to be left here in the small dark cell, in pain and knowing that I was going to be beaten again, and eventually I lost hope and wished that I was dead. After a while, I remember how pathetically happy I was every time the upstairs door opened because I wanted so badly to see light again. It didn't even matter that I was going to be beaten some more.

Eventually, I was brought upstairs again and I was told to sign some more Greek papers. Rambo told me to get out, but that he was going to keep my passport and driver's license until I paid some office in town 75,000 Greek Drachmas (approximately $200 in American dollars or £160 in British pounds) returned with a receipt. My apartment was about 10 minutes away, and I arrived back just as my cousin was leaving so I must have been in that basement for more than 2.5 hours. That may not seem like much time, but please imagine what a hell it was, and I had no concept of time after a while.

When I got into the apartment I was sicker than I have ever felt before, and I was vomiting blood. My head ached so much from being bashed against the bars, my left wrist was sprained and painful, I had bruises on my arms and back, and cuts on my wrists from the very tight handcuffs.

We wanted to get documentation of my injuries from a doctor, but we could not find a non-Greek doctor and Greek doctors would not get involved in police affairs so I had to pretend that my injuries were a result of the car accident. I was diagnosed with a concussion, a sprained wrist, and a case of shock (the reason for my vomiting blood).

I had not understood where I was supposed to go to pay the fee for my passport and driver's license, but luckily a taxi driver knew where to take us (for a price). I paid the 75,000 Drachmas and got the receipt I needed, but it took me several days to work up the nerve to face those police men again (and my cousin was too scared to go alone). When we did go, Rambo was there off-duty and he told us to get out as soon as the policeman on-duty returned my passport and driver's license.

The Greek Island of Crete is a beautiful place, and most citizens are friendly, but before you decide to go, please be aware of the injustice that can occur there. The police are always looking for Albanians that are in their country illegally, but they can be unfairly rough on other foreigners.