The Kindness of Strangers.....
Aug 20th, 2004, 03:11 AM
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Our ANgels were in Arrezo, Italy
Driving from Gubbio to Arrezo , Italy we had a huge accident head on with a van. I broke my knee cup.
The couple behind us, took care of us, not for a while but for the whole day. They drove back and forth 200 kms that day, taking me to the hospital where the woman stayed with me, then driving back to pick up my husband, then later in the day taking my husband to make a police report. (accident was 50 kms from Arrezo) I shall never forget there kindness.
Driving from Gubbio to Arrezo , Italy we had a huge accident head on with a van. I broke my knee cup.
The couple behind us, took care of us, not for a while but for the whole day. They drove back and forth 200 kms that day, taking me to the hospital where the woman stayed with me, then driving back to pick up my husband, then later in the day taking my husband to make a police report. (accident was 50 kms from Arrezo) I shall never forget there kindness.
Jul 5th, 2005, 10:34 AM
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We made the mistake of driving into Florence with the idea that that's where we would drop of our rental car. My husband was driving and I was navigating with the instructions to our hotel in one hand and the instructions to Hertz in the other, thinking that if I could just find one familiar street name, we'd be saved from driving under that same overpass a fourth time and my husband would stop grinding his teeth. I could tell we were nearing the hotel because the streets were getting smaller and smaller but despite instructions from many kind people we had no luck. My husband drove down streets so tiny he had to back up out of them and once came within feet of driving right into the San Lorenzo market. Finally a very nice man took pity on us and walked for several blocks in front of our car (he wouldn't get in. Really. We asked.) and lead us right to the front door of our hotel. We felt like idiots but happy, relieved idiots.
Jul 5th, 2005, 10:53 AM
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Woo-woo!
I'm in the midst of a massive deep-cleaning and transforming the loft back from an office into a bedroom.
At 3 am I came across this book I bought but have not read -
The Kindness of Strangers
Penniless Across America
One Man's Journey From Coast to Cosat, No Promises, No Guarantees, and No Money
by Mike McIntyre
The last thing I did last night before conking out was move a bedside table upstairs and added some books guests might be interested in reading.
Less than 12 hours later, this thread reappears. Woo-woo time!
I'm in the midst of a massive deep-cleaning and transforming the loft back from an office into a bedroom.
At 3 am I came across this book I bought but have not read -
The Kindness of Strangers
Penniless Across America
One Man's Journey From Coast to Cosat, No Promises, No Guarantees, and No Money
by Mike McIntyre
The last thing I did last night before conking out was move a bedside table upstairs and added some books guests might be interested in reading.
Less than 12 hours later, this thread reappears. Woo-woo time!
Jul 5th, 2005, 11:40 PM
#66
This cannot compete with Gardyloo’s story, but another train trip.
Some years back, my beloved and I were in Italy, and had visited Benevento, and were catching a train back to Caserta. After 30 minutes of the journey, I was puzzled that I didn’t recognise the scenery from the outward trip, but it was very beautiful, and I was sure I had been on the right platform and the train had departed on time.
A Guard arrived and checked our tickets – he asked where we were going, and I told him Caserta. He got rather exited and told me with much hand waving that this train was heading for Campobasso. He spoke very little English, I speak very little “pidgen” Italian, but I think we were able to work out that by the time we got to Campobasso, and then got a return train to Benevento, it would be over 4 hours, and we would have missed the last train back to Caserta.
The guard then rushed off, saying “You wait”. We sat and 20 minutes later he returned. The train slowed and stopped, and he gestured for us to get out. We were a little perturbed as we were in the middle of nowhere. It was beautiful, the scenery was lovely, but we could see no houses, one small road with no traffic, and nothing else. The guard pointed to a grassy bank and said “you wait – 20 minutes” and the train pulled off. We did not know what to think – so we waited. 25 minutes later another train appeared heading towards Benevento. The driver was waving at us. It stopped, and we got on. This time the guard spoke English. He explained that the guard on the first train had gone to tell the driver, who had stopped at a level crossing, phoned ahead and explained the situation to another crossing, who had then stopped the approaching train, and asked them to pick us up. He just laughed when I asked if I could buy tickets for our “wrong journey”
Some years back, my beloved and I were in Italy, and had visited Benevento, and were catching a train back to Caserta. After 30 minutes of the journey, I was puzzled that I didn’t recognise the scenery from the outward trip, but it was very beautiful, and I was sure I had been on the right platform and the train had departed on time.
A Guard arrived and checked our tickets – he asked where we were going, and I told him Caserta. He got rather exited and told me with much hand waving that this train was heading for Campobasso. He spoke very little English, I speak very little “pidgen” Italian, but I think we were able to work out that by the time we got to Campobasso, and then got a return train to Benevento, it would be over 4 hours, and we would have missed the last train back to Caserta.
The guard then rushed off, saying “You wait”. We sat and 20 minutes later he returned. The train slowed and stopped, and he gestured for us to get out. We were a little perturbed as we were in the middle of nowhere. It was beautiful, the scenery was lovely, but we could see no houses, one small road with no traffic, and nothing else. The guard pointed to a grassy bank and said “you wait – 20 minutes” and the train pulled off. We did not know what to think – so we waited. 25 minutes later another train appeared heading towards Benevento. The driver was waving at us. It stopped, and we got on. This time the guard spoke English. He explained that the guard on the first train had gone to tell the driver, who had stopped at a level crossing, phoned ahead and explained the situation to another crossing, who had then stopped the approaching train, and asked them to pick us up. He just laughed when I asked if I could buy tickets for our “wrong journey”
Dec 17th, 2005, 02:19 PM
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Great reading and great stories.
I went to visit my 20 year old daughter in Lausanne this past June. She staying there for two months to work on a research project and was a little lonely. We had a wonderful time in Glion, Vevey, Montreaux. For our last two days together, decided to train to Locarno to see the Centovalli and Lake Lugano. We arrived at our place, Hotel Garni Rondinella, had a nice 6th floor room with balcony and good view of the lake. We were heading out to dinner, walking down from the sixth floor on a large white circular marble staircase. At about floor three, my foot slipped on the marble, I grabbed the rail, but couldn't break my fall. Because I grabbed the rail, my momentum carried me head first down the stairs, and I banged my face against one of the steps.
Blood all over the place (on that beautiful white marble, my pink silk blouse, my knit sweater, --my long scarf was used to stop the bleeding until the ambulance arrived.) The woman who owned the hotel was just an angel. She told my daughter to be sure I had my passport and my charge card when we left for the hospital. Gave us her cell phone number to pick me up when they were done placing stitches.
Fortunately, other than bruises and a nasty laceration, I was fine. She picked us up from the emergency room. She was concerned that we never made it to dinner, so she stopped at a local pizza place and picked up two margherita pizzas, then tucked my in with ice bags for my head back in the room.
She took my clothes and hand washed them that night and had them folded and ready for our departure in the morning.
We said our goodbyes that morning. My daughter and I were talking at the train platform about how sad we were that we really didn't get to see much of Locarno. Just before we departed, we saw this woman again, walking swiftly over from the hotel and calling "Signora!" She had come to bring my forgotten sweater to me. What a sweet woman.
SusanEva
I went to visit my 20 year old daughter in Lausanne this past June. She staying there for two months to work on a research project and was a little lonely. We had a wonderful time in Glion, Vevey, Montreaux. For our last two days together, decided to train to Locarno to see the Centovalli and Lake Lugano. We arrived at our place, Hotel Garni Rondinella, had a nice 6th floor room with balcony and good view of the lake. We were heading out to dinner, walking down from the sixth floor on a large white circular marble staircase. At about floor three, my foot slipped on the marble, I grabbed the rail, but couldn't break my fall. Because I grabbed the rail, my momentum carried me head first down the stairs, and I banged my face against one of the steps.
Blood all over the place (on that beautiful white marble, my pink silk blouse, my knit sweater, --my long scarf was used to stop the bleeding until the ambulance arrived.) The woman who owned the hotel was just an angel. She told my daughter to be sure I had my passport and my charge card when we left for the hospital. Gave us her cell phone number to pick me up when they were done placing stitches.
Fortunately, other than bruises and a nasty laceration, I was fine. She picked us up from the emergency room. She was concerned that we never made it to dinner, so she stopped at a local pizza place and picked up two margherita pizzas, then tucked my in with ice bags for my head back in the room.
She took my clothes and hand washed them that night and had them folded and ready for our departure in the morning.
We said our goodbyes that morning. My daughter and I were talking at the train platform about how sad we were that we really didn't get to see much of Locarno. Just before we departed, we saw this woman again, walking swiftly over from the hotel and calling "Signora!" She had come to bring my forgotten sweater to me. What a sweet woman.
SusanEva
Dec 17th, 2005, 03:00 PM
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Outside of Amsterdam, I was not sure which turn to take to get where I wanted. A local was getting off the train and figured out that I was sort of lost. He walked with me, and others, a mile to the sight and then walked back to town to go home.
My father was lost in Paris, and could not speak French. A local kept trying to get him straightend out. Finally, she walked him 1/2 mile and point out a land mark to get oriented by.
Another time in Amsterdam, a gentleman bought me and my friends several drinks and we spent several hours talking about the USA, Holland, and many other thing.
My father was lost in Paris, and could not speak French. A local kept trying to get him straightend out. Finally, she walked him 1/2 mile and point out a land mark to get oriented by.
Another time in Amsterdam, a gentleman bought me and my friends several drinks and we spent several hours talking about the USA, Holland, and many other thing.
Dec 18th, 2005, 04:00 AM
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THIS is an excellent thread!!
Our best story comes from a weekend trip in Ljubljana, Slovenia where, after we stalled our car in a snowdrift, a number of passers-by attempted to help us. Finally, after only moving our car about five feet (sliding precariously from one drift to another and, thankfully, not hitting any other vehicles parallel parked there), we gave up and walked out in an attempt to find a tow truck (do they even have those in Europe???). Instead, we found a hotel with an extremely helpful bellhop.
Poor guy--probably 19 or 20 years old, not even wearing a jacket or proper shoes for the snow--proceeded to walk with us about 15 city blocks in the rain back to our car. Then, he, my husband, and another couple unearthed our car and pushed us backwards down a snow-covered one-way street in the rain.
We had two more stalls on the way back to the hotel and thankfully didn't drive again until we were on the highways headed home.
Our bellhop did not refuse our monetary thanks, but hopefully, he was able to use the money to replace the shoes I am sure that he ruined tromping through the snow with us!
(BTW, the first call my husband received when he returned to the office was a directive to bring in the car immediately...because it needed new snow tires! Go figure....
Our best story comes from a weekend trip in Ljubljana, Slovenia where, after we stalled our car in a snowdrift, a number of passers-by attempted to help us. Finally, after only moving our car about five feet (sliding precariously from one drift to another and, thankfully, not hitting any other vehicles parallel parked there), we gave up and walked out in an attempt to find a tow truck (do they even have those in Europe???). Instead, we found a hotel with an extremely helpful bellhop.
Poor guy--probably 19 or 20 years old, not even wearing a jacket or proper shoes for the snow--proceeded to walk with us about 15 city blocks in the rain back to our car. Then, he, my husband, and another couple unearthed our car and pushed us backwards down a snow-covered one-way street in the rain.
We had two more stalls on the way back to the hotel and thankfully didn't drive again until we were on the highways headed home.
Our bellhop did not refuse our monetary thanks, but hopefully, he was able to use the money to replace the shoes I am sure that he ruined tromping through the snow with us!
(BTW, the first call my husband received when he returned to the office was a directive to bring in the car immediately...because it needed new snow tires! Go figure....
Dec 18th, 2005, 07:41 AM
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I got totally lost in Paris, and my kind stranger was a lovely girl, who did her best to help me find my destination even to the point of walking about 20mins with me to ensure i got on the right metro!
Dec 18th, 2005, 07:55 AM
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My kind stranger was in Greece. I was traveling alone there almost 10 yrs ago, and was taking a public bus from Athens to Delphi. No one told me when I bought my ticket that I had an assigned seat, so when I arrived at the bus, I just picked one up front (so I wouldn't get motion sick). The person whose seat is was arrived just before the bus was about to depart and started yelling at me in Greek. Finally I figured out the problem and went looking for my own seat. Someone was in it. I tried to explain to the person that it was my seat--in a nice way--but he just laughed at me and pretended not to understand. I had no seat, the bus was full and about to leave, and everyone was snickering. I was the only foreigner on the bus.
Finally, a nice older lady motioned to me and made room for me next to her. She patted my hand and smiled, and even though we couldn't communicate with words, with that simple gesture she made me feel so much better. As we set off and were making our way, she opened up a bag of snacks she had brought with her, and exhibited the ancient tradition of Greek xenia (guest-friendship) by offering me an apple. Almost all of our conversation was with smiles since almost the only Greek word I knew was "efharisto" (thank you).
When we got near Delphi and were winding through the mountains, we rounded a corner and there was our first sight of the ancient sanctuary. The lady patted my hand again and pointed. "Delphoi," she said with a smile. I had a tear in my eye, I don't know whether from seeing Delphi for the first time or from her genuine human kindness which truly touched me. I won't forget that wonderful Greek lady!
Finally, a nice older lady motioned to me and made room for me next to her. She patted my hand and smiled, and even though we couldn't communicate with words, with that simple gesture she made me feel so much better. As we set off and were making our way, she opened up a bag of snacks she had brought with her, and exhibited the ancient tradition of Greek xenia (guest-friendship) by offering me an apple. Almost all of our conversation was with smiles since almost the only Greek word I knew was "efharisto" (thank you).
When we got near Delphi and were winding through the mountains, we rounded a corner and there was our first sight of the ancient sanctuary. The lady patted my hand again and pointed. "Delphoi," she said with a smile. I had a tear in my eye, I don't know whether from seeing Delphi for the first time or from her genuine human kindness which truly touched me. I won't forget that wonderful Greek lady!
Feb 9th, 2006, 02:38 PM
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We (5 people) were in Italy for 2 1/2 weeks in late April-early May of 2003. Through a series of events too convoluted to go into here, we ended up with a huge, 9-passenger, Fiat Ducato minibus to drive around in Umbria, and later Varenna, near Lake Como. I did all the driving, and got nervous as we approached a new hill town each day, wondering how I would negotiate the ancient, narrow, twisting, turning roads that awaited us. One day in Perugia, as we were making our way to the center of town, I became hopelessly wedged-in on a tiny old street..the only option was to turn right, but we were on a downgrade, about 6 inches from a building, and there was no way in hell that I could move the vehicle another centimeter without slamming into a wall. Cars were starting to pile up and honk behind us, and I had no idea what to do next.
Out of one of the cars behind us came a young man, about 20 years old. He asked, in excellent English, if we would like some help. I gladly turned over the driver's seat, and he calmly and expertly moved this monstrosity back and forth, a few inches at a time, until he could negotiate the very sharp right-hand turn, and pull the bus through the very narrow archway ahead. He then lead us through the side streets of Perugia to a parking lot.
We laugh about it now, but I was really sweating it out at the time. This young stranger did all this with a smile, we could not have thanked him enough. These are the kinds of things that make Italy so wonderful and memorable for me.
Out of one of the cars behind us came a young man, about 20 years old. He asked, in excellent English, if we would like some help. I gladly turned over the driver's seat, and he calmly and expertly moved this monstrosity back and forth, a few inches at a time, until he could negotiate the very sharp right-hand turn, and pull the bus through the very narrow archway ahead. He then lead us through the side streets of Perugia to a parking lot.
We laugh about it now, but I was really sweating it out at the time. This young stranger did all this with a smile, we could not have thanked him enough. These are the kinds of things that make Italy so wonderful and memorable for me.
Feb 9th, 2006, 03:43 PM
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Well--
I haven't had the time to read the thread....But, are you aware of the fact that this is the title of a Lonely Planet book of travel essays? Quite an interesting book with about 40 or so different short essays by both pros and amateturs.
I haven't had the time to read the thread....But, are you aware of the fact that this is the title of a Lonely Planet book of travel essays? Quite an interesting book with about 40 or so different short essays by both pros and amateturs.
Feb 9th, 2006, 06:43 PM
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In August of 2003, I was in Lurgan, Northern Ireland with my children and their youth bagpipe band for the Ulster Championship. The actual competition was in a field somewhat outside of the town. In between competitions one of the other mothers convinced me to walk to town with her. This was against my better judment, as I never venture anywhere without a local map, and I had no map. Although I did take some digital pictures of the various intersections where we turned as we walked to town, when we reversed the directions, we got totally lost. It had been drizzly and cool, but as we walked around the sun came out and we were very hot. We were stuck in a neighborhood of dead end streets with absolutely no idea of how to get back to the park (although we could hear the bagpipe music).
The local mail carrier drove past us, and seeing our obvious distress and confusion told us to hop in the mail car and drove us back to the park, where we arrived in time for the band's turn to play.
The local mail carrier drove past us, and seeing our obvious distress and confusion told us to hop in the mail car and drove us back to the park, where we arrived in time for the band's turn to play.
Feb 9th, 2006, 08:44 PM
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The Kindness of Strangers...I was not in Italy or even Europe. About two weeks after 911 (2001) I started getting postcards from Italy and than from Crotia. I had no idea who any of these postcards were from. I could read the comments on the postcards from Italy such as "you are in our thoughts", "God bless America", "we are saying prayers for you and everyone in America" etc. but I could not understand any of the comments from Crotia as I do not know a word of their language. But I knew that the comments were lovely as the postcards had angels, pictures of churches etc on the front.
I emailed a few friends in Italy asking if they had any idea what these postcards were about..or rather who these postcards were from.
It turned out that friends in Italy had given my name and address to various friends of theirs in Italy and Crotia who had expressed an interest and desire to send me postcards (they had heard about me over the years from my friends in Italy) as they wanted to send their love and care to me and to express their grief about 911 and their love for we Americans.
Total strangers sent prayers and their loving thoughts thousands of miles to another total stranger..me. I still have these postcards and will never get rid of them. They are a reminder to me how beautiful and loving most people in the world are. Kindness that goes beyond description.
I emailed a few friends in Italy asking if they had any idea what these postcards were about..or rather who these postcards were from.
It turned out that friends in Italy had given my name and address to various friends of theirs in Italy and Crotia who had expressed an interest and desire to send me postcards (they had heard about me over the years from my friends in Italy) as they wanted to send their love and care to me and to express their grief about 911 and their love for we Americans.
Total strangers sent prayers and their loving thoughts thousands of miles to another total stranger..me. I still have these postcards and will never get rid of them. They are a reminder to me how beautiful and loving most people in the world are. Kindness that goes beyond description.
Feb 10th, 2006, 07:33 AM
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Last May my husband, Craig and I traveled to Ireland. We were having a great time exploring the SW. Our first night in Ireland was on Inishmore at the Man of Aran Cottage. We had met a nice couple from France named Morgan and Patrick. We had visited together a little after dinner and then again the next morning while sharing a taxi back to our ferry.
A few days later we were in Clifton, about to go to our B & B. I had read that the Sky Road had beautiful views and so I suggested we drive that before going to our room.
We hadn't been on the road for more than 10 minutes when a car passed from the opposite direction and Craig had to move over to the side of the road to let it pass. Just as he did this we heard a terrible noise. We stopped the car and saw that we had run over a large, sharp rock which had caused our tire to go flat.
After a few swear words from Craig, we opened the trunk to get the jack. We fumbled around for about a ½ hour trying to figure out how the bits of steel went together to form a tool. We looked through the whole car and couldn't find any directions and had finally given up trying to change the tire by ourselves. Where were all the nice Irish people when you needed them? Everyone that passed us kept right on going.
Craig had decided to walk to a nearby house, ask to use their phone and call for road service. He hadn't gone very far when I saw a car stop next to Craig. Then I heard a large laugh come from the driver’s side. Craig turned around and started back, while the car drove up and stopped next to ours. It was Patrick and Morgan!
What were the chances we would meet up again at the very time we needed help? The four of us worked together until we had the spare put on. Morgan even had some handy wipes to clean the grease and dirt off our hands.
A bad situation turned out to be a great memory. Thanks again Morgan and Patrick for taking time to stop and help us out!
A few days later we were in Clifton, about to go to our B & B. I had read that the Sky Road had beautiful views and so I suggested we drive that before going to our room.
We hadn't been on the road for more than 10 minutes when a car passed from the opposite direction and Craig had to move over to the side of the road to let it pass. Just as he did this we heard a terrible noise. We stopped the car and saw that we had run over a large, sharp rock which had caused our tire to go flat.
After a few swear words from Craig, we opened the trunk to get the jack. We fumbled around for about a ½ hour trying to figure out how the bits of steel went together to form a tool. We looked through the whole car and couldn't find any directions and had finally given up trying to change the tire by ourselves. Where were all the nice Irish people when you needed them? Everyone that passed us kept right on going.
Craig had decided to walk to a nearby house, ask to use their phone and call for road service. He hadn't gone very far when I saw a car stop next to Craig. Then I heard a large laugh come from the driver’s side. Craig turned around and started back, while the car drove up and stopped next to ours. It was Patrick and Morgan!
What were the chances we would meet up again at the very time we needed help? The four of us worked together until we had the spare put on. Morgan even had some handy wipes to clean the grease and dirt off our hands.
A bad situation turned out to be a great memory. Thanks again Morgan and Patrick for taking time to stop and help us out!
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