The “Priest”
It was only my second or third day in Europe and I was at a
Metro station in Rome, waiting for the train. I saw a middle-aged African man
in a priest’s get-up who looked lost and disorientated. I, assuming he may speak
English, asked him if he needed a hand. He told me he was trying to get to the
Colosseum so I replied that I was headed to that stop as well and could show
him where to get off. It all seemed harmless enough and I was happy to help
someone out. THEN! We got on the train and he started to ask questions about
where I was staying. I said it was a B&B with a shared bathroom etc. So he
asks me, “Can I follow you there and see what it’s like?”
“No,”
I said, proud of my correct reflex answer (my usual tendency is to be
obliging).
“Why
not?”
“Because
I don’t know you,” I said. The tone of his voice and the way he was looking at
me was starting to freak me out.
“Oh.
Can I have your email address or your telephone number in case I want to ask
you something later?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because
I don’t know you.”
“Oh
are you sure?”
“Yeah
I’m sure. Oh look, here’s the stop you want!” With that I jumped out of the
train and ran up the stairs. I knew I was a lot fitter than him and would lose
him but I walked home looking behind me the whole way. Ughh… It was a good
experience to have early on because it made me much more wary when travelling
on my own.
The Gladiator
I’ve mentioned the Gladiator before, but he deserved to be
remembered in this post. Around the same time as the Priest – in Rome 2010 – I
was staying at a B&B near the Colosseum and consequently had to walk past
it every time I took the Metro. As I crossed the open area in front of the
entrance to the Colosseum a Roman “gladiator”, who in that moment had no
tourists to pose with, threw me this classic line (in a thick Italian accent)
that I still chuckle about: “Hey darling you’re so sexy. What’s your name,
Paradise?” Do you think he’s actually ever picked anyone up with that one?
The Hands-on Professor
There was a certain – married – middle-aged professor where
I was contracted to teach some high schoolers. He couldn’t keep his hands to
himself. He stared at me everywhere but in the eye and paid me repetitious
compliments. I tried to be polite but when I finished working with that class
and he asked for my number I couldn’t resist calling him on his crap. “Why do
you want my number?” I said innocently but straightforwardly. “Oh, uh, you
know, in case there’s some problem here and I need to contact you.” I assured
him that the teacher taking over from me would be more than capable of handling
any issues and if not, he could contact my boss! *Creep*
The B&B Sock Saviour
To cut a long story short… I left my socks at a B&B in
Verona where I stayed with my sister before finding an apartment here. We moved
onto the next city and the young Spanish guy from the B&B wrote to me to
inform me of my loss. I told him I was on my way to Le Cinque Terre and would
have to relinquish the socks. He wrote to me three times trying to convince me that I needed them. He even went
to the trouble of detailing all the possible solutions for reclaiming them – every
option depended upon me seeing him again, of course… Needless to say, I bought
new socks!
The Ambos
It was 8am and I was walking across Ponte della Vittoria in Verona, next to the
stop-start peak-hour traffic. The footpath and the car lanes are quite intimate
on this bridge so you can almost hear the drivers cursing the traffic lights or
singing along to tacky love-songs. I walked past the bumper-to-bumper cars in a
purposeful yet distracted way. In my dream-like mental state, I heard someone
say, “Buongiorno!” (Good Morning!) over some kind of loud speaker. I wondered
what it was all about so I looked up and saw two ambulance officers smiling at
me with all the self-satisfaction of two young guys who had just used the
truck’s megaphone to get my attention! Only in Italy! All three of us had a
little giggle and then went on our merry way.
The Little Grandpa on a Bike
The prize goes to my personal favourite… a sweet, little old
man in his 70’s who was riding down the same street that I was walking down. He
was going so slowly that I overtook him despite having no wheels. When I got
near him, he had already pretty much ground to a halt. He saw me passing by,
and said something I didn’t hear properly. I thought I’d better check seeing as
he was elderly and might need a hand. I asked him to please repeat what he had said.
He stopped fiddling with his bike and with both hands made a gesture of
perfection, “Sei bellissima,” (you’re very beautiful). He had nothing else to
say… He collected his bike and tottered off at the same break-neck speed as
before. He made my day :)
There are several more stories I could share here, but this
post is already too long and there’s only so much we can all take of these
smooth operators! Maybe there’ll be a Part 2 some time!
