An unforgettable story.
(Sharing one of my many fondest travel memories....)
It was summertime. A beautiful weekend morning. Perfect weather. I decided to be more adventurous and catch the bus from Torre Del Greco to Naples City Centre, instead of the suburban train called Vesuviana. I was told it was only one bus ride away, but I had to walk a different route to go to the bus stop. It appealed to the explorer in me, seeing the city from a different perspective, doing what I thought some locals would do. So off I went.
I got a little lost, but my basic Italian phrases and hand-flinging gestures (the Italian way of course) while I explained what I was trying to do eventually took me to the right stop, and with a cheaper transport ticket already bought from the tabacchi (local tobacco shop that sells many other items aside from smokes). I also found out that the bus I was waiting for did not run on weekends, but the other bus (the only bus that ran on weekends in the area) would still take me closer to the city.
Unfazed, I jumped into the first bus that arrived, beamed a smile to the driver and stated, "Bongiourno, Napoli Centrale per favore". He said something I didn't understand, I shook my head while I tried some more Italian phrases, he looked at me, then gestured me in. Success! I thought... ;-).
A few minutes later, the driver called me over, pointed to the other side of the main road and said something too fast and romantic for my ears to comprehend. But I quickly understood that he was telling me to catch the bus from there to go to my destination. Thankfully, between my non-existent Spanish language knowledge and "learn as I go" Italian, I actually worked out the bus numbers he mentioned. I thanked him and got off.
I did not wait long for the second bus. The same introduction happened between me and this driver (flashed a smile while I said "Napoli Centrale per favore", he replied, I didn't understand, he gestured me in). This was a longer bus ride. I soaked in the scenery and really saw suburbia. Some of the older locals conversed with me - they spoke broken English, I spoke broken Italian. It was so much fun!
At a busy intersection, the bus stopped where almost all passengers got off. The driver called me over again, told me it was my stop (I thought) or asked me to get off. I did not get any more directions. I strained my ears to hear numbers from the driver but nothing came out. So I alighted confused, asked a few bystanders for directions but no one could or wanted to help.
I was looking around trying to work out what to do when I noticed an old man calling me over with his hand. He had a typical casual look I imagined Italian grandfathers to be. He was leaning on a wooden cane, his back bent with age (past 75 years I thought), but still had a dignified or proud look about him. He was wearing a cream hat (hair neatly combed underneath), light-coloured short sleeve shirt, dark slacks, both top and pants neatly-ironed, and polished shoes. He looked debonair-ish.
I walked up to him and leaned my head closer, as I expected him to talk to me. Instead he took my hand and placed it on top of his arm, took me with him, and we crossed straight through the middle of the intersection! He was so old and frail that we walked at a snail's pace, his feet barely lifting from the ground, his cane always only a few inches forward. All the cars, mopeds and buses beeped but avoided us! He didn't seem to care so I entrusted my life to him, as he brought me to the other side of the road. I think it took us 3-5 minutes to cross a path that would have taken me 10 seconds to cross alone.
I felt love for the old man :-). Even though it would have been faster if he just pointed to where I should go, I loved that he decided to walk there with me. It was very sweet of him. It was an unforgettable experience to be in our own world while vehicles around us swerved and gave us space. I did not feel scared. I'm pretty sure I was even smiling, as I recalled some moped riders smiled back at me/us.
Our journey together eventually ended. I was about to thank him, when he spoke to someone in Italian. He was so chivalrous he also made sure that someone in the crowd could make sure I caught the right bus. I thanked him profusely. I kept saying "molte grazie" and thank you. He just smiled softly/shyly, gestured with his hand it was nothing, and simply replied, "prego". Then he turned around to continue his journey.
I was speechless.... He started crossing the road again - slowly - with everyone else avoiding him again, back to where we came from! I thought he at least planned to go to my side of the road too!
It was then, that very moment, when I fell in love with the old man :-)))).
He swept me off my feet and took a piece of my heart with him. A most heart-touching random act of kindness. His gestures were gallant, taking it upon himself to help a damsel in (di)stress. Personally leading me to where I needed to be. The effort it took (time and energy), when he could have just pointed it to me. The fact that he bothered. The fact that he made sure I did not have to ask further. He gave me protection, safety and security. I was so teary-eyed from happiness/gratefulness. I glowed with love I'm sure as the lady he spoke to, whom guided me straight to Napoli Centrale, kept nodding and beaming a smile back when I pointed to my noble knight. I think she understood what I was going through. I wanted to hug the old man, and kiss him on the cheeks. I wanted to take a photo of him. But to reach for my camera felt like it was going to ruin the moment. So I watched him walk further away from me, in slow-motion while people buzzed around him, until the bus arrived. A tiny part of me in disbelief, but a huge part wonderfully grateful for the "romance". ;-)
(Sharing one of my many fondest travel memories....)
It was summertime. A beautiful weekend morning. Perfect weather. I decided to be more adventurous and catch the bus from Torre Del Greco to Naples City Centre, instead of the suburban train called Vesuviana. I was told it was only one bus ride away, but I had to walk a different route to go to the bus stop. It appealed to the explorer in me, seeing the city from a different perspective, doing what I thought some locals would do. So off I went.
I got a little lost, but my basic Italian phrases and hand-flinging gestures (the Italian way of course) while I explained what I was trying to do eventually took me to the right stop, and with a cheaper transport ticket already bought from the tabacchi (local tobacco shop that sells many other items aside from smokes). I also found out that the bus I was waiting for did not run on weekends, but the other bus (the only bus that ran on weekends in the area) would still take me closer to the city.
Unfazed, I jumped into the first bus that arrived, beamed a smile to the driver and stated, "Bongiourno, Napoli Centrale per favore". He said something I didn't understand, I shook my head while I tried some more Italian phrases, he looked at me, then gestured me in. Success! I thought... ;-).
A few minutes later, the driver called me over, pointed to the other side of the main road and said something too fast and romantic for my ears to comprehend. But I quickly understood that he was telling me to catch the bus from there to go to my destination. Thankfully, between my non-existent Spanish language knowledge and "learn as I go" Italian, I actually worked out the bus numbers he mentioned. I thanked him and got off.
I did not wait long for the second bus. The same introduction happened between me and this driver (flashed a smile while I said "Napoli Centrale per favore", he replied, I didn't understand, he gestured me in). This was a longer bus ride. I soaked in the scenery and really saw suburbia. Some of the older locals conversed with me - they spoke broken English, I spoke broken Italian. It was so much fun!
At a busy intersection, the bus stopped where almost all passengers got off. The driver called me over again, told me it was my stop (I thought) or asked me to get off. I did not get any more directions. I strained my ears to hear numbers from the driver but nothing came out. So I alighted confused, asked a few bystanders for directions but no one could or wanted to help.
I was looking around trying to work out what to do when I noticed an old man calling me over with his hand. He had a typical casual look I imagined Italian grandfathers to be. He was leaning on a wooden cane, his back bent with age (past 75 years I thought), but still had a dignified or proud look about him. He was wearing a cream hat (hair neatly combed underneath), light-coloured short sleeve shirt, dark slacks, both top and pants neatly-ironed, and polished shoes. He looked debonair-ish.
I walked up to him and leaned my head closer, as I expected him to talk to me. Instead he took my hand and placed it on top of his arm, took me with him, and we crossed straight through the middle of the intersection! He was so old and frail that we walked at a snail's pace, his feet barely lifting from the ground, his cane always only a few inches forward. All the cars, mopeds and buses beeped but avoided us! He didn't seem to care so I entrusted my life to him, as he brought me to the other side of the road. I think it took us 3-5 minutes to cross a path that would have taken me 10 seconds to cross alone.
I felt love for the old man :-). Even though it would have been faster if he just pointed to where I should go, I loved that he decided to walk there with me. It was very sweet of him. It was an unforgettable experience to be in our own world while vehicles around us swerved and gave us space. I did not feel scared. I'm pretty sure I was even smiling, as I recalled some moped riders smiled back at me/us.
Our journey together eventually ended. I was about to thank him, when he spoke to someone in Italian. He was so chivalrous he also made sure that someone in the crowd could make sure I caught the right bus. I thanked him profusely. I kept saying "molte grazie" and thank you. He just smiled softly/shyly, gestured with his hand it was nothing, and simply replied, "prego". Then he turned around to continue his journey.
I was speechless.... He started crossing the road again - slowly - with everyone else avoiding him again, back to where we came from! I thought he at least planned to go to my side of the road too!
It was then, that very moment, when I fell in love with the old man :-)))).
He swept me off my feet and took a piece of my heart with him. A most heart-touching random act of kindness. His gestures were gallant, taking it upon himself to help a damsel in (di)stress. Personally leading me to where I needed to be. The effort it took (time and energy), when he could have just pointed it to me. The fact that he bothered. The fact that he made sure I did not have to ask further. He gave me protection, safety and security. I was so teary-eyed from happiness/gratefulness. I glowed with love I'm sure as the lady he spoke to, whom guided me straight to Napoli Centrale, kept nodding and beaming a smile back when I pointed to my noble knight. I think she understood what I was going through. I wanted to hug the old man, and kiss him on the cheeks. I wanted to take a photo of him. But to reach for my camera felt like it was going to ruin the moment. So I watched him walk further away from me, in slow-motion while people buzzed around him, until the bus arrived. A tiny part of me in disbelief, but a huge part wonderfully grateful for the "romance". ;-)
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