Thank you, Mr Italy
A confused traveller has a good reason to say grazie
M.K. Giri, PhD, is interested in sustainable development and biodiversity conservation. A former Reader in Zoology at Tribhuvan University in Nepal, he is now retired. He lives with his wife in Auckland, New Zealand, and enjoys going on nature walks.
BACK IN 1988 I was working at the University of Bonn in Germany as a research fellow. I took some time off in early May to visit a friend, who was the director of a museum in Viterbo, in central Italy. I set out by train, planning to visit him for three days. The train trip from Bonn to Rome followed the dramatic landscape carved by the Rhine, stopping along the way in Frankfurt, Heidelberg and Stuttgart. From there, the train crossed the Swiss border to reach Zurich, winding through valleys and along hillsides, and entering a number of tunnels as it made its way through the Swiss Alps. It was all so picturesque.
The train then crossed the Italian border before passing through Milan and Florence, then finally stopping in Rome. I was lucky, as my hotel was close to the railway station. The next morning I had a coffee at a nearby café, then eagerly set out to visit as many of the famous Roman landmarks as possible. By the day’s end, I had managed to see the Colosseum, Altare della Patria (National Monument to Victor Emmanuel II), the Trevi Fountain and Vatican City.
The following day I headed back to the train station, intending to take a short train ride to Viterbo to meet up with my friend. When I arrived at the station and attempted to locate the correct platform, I quickly realised that the station was closed for an upgrade. For a moment my mind went blank and I did not know what
to do. My biggest problem was my luggage – my suitcase and hand luggage were heavy so I couldn’t move about easily. As I don’t speak Italian, I could not ask anyone for instructions. I dragged my suitcase about 100 metres to a nearby motor mechanics. A tall, sturdy man of about 50 years of age was working there and I excused myself and asked where the nearest station was. I am sure that he did not understand me properly but he could easily guess that I was looking for a station. He replied, but I did not understand.
He smiled, wiped his hands and said something, which I guessed to mean ‘Come along’. So I dragged my suitcase along and followed him. He opened the door of his car, motioned to me to get in and then drove for a few minutes to the next station. I got out, unloaded my luggage, then shook his hand with thanks. He smiled back and drove away.
There was no time to hug or exchange names. I understood that he was busy and was in the middle of his work. I was moved so much by his generosity that I have never forgotten him. He was working and could have easily ignored me but, instead, he chose to help. He went the extra mile on that day. I was completely overwhelmed and I have told this story to many to prove that there are good people everywhere in the world. Thank you, Mr Italy! I then boarded the train and arrived in Viterbo a couple of hours later.
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