When I saluted an Austrian schoolboy
It’s a nightmare for any traveller to lose the passport, money and camera. Recently, I lost all three, and got them back too! Thereby hangs a traveller’s tale.
I was on a trip to Italy and Austria along with a group of friends. Our itinerary comprised Rome, Florence, Venice before we were to enjoy the adjoining picture-postcard beauty of Salzburg and Vienna. Having soaked in the riches of architecture of Italy, the train ride from Venice to Salzburg was an opportunity to savour the timeless beauty of pristine nature.
As we crossed the Italian border with our passports duly checked, we reached a town called Villach in Austria, where we had a change of trains. Having duly refreshed ourselves with hot croissants, tuna sandwiches and cappuccinos, the mood in the group was of merriment like of a bunch of schoolchildren out on a picnic.
Soon after the arrival of our next train was announced and as it zoomed in, we got up with alacrity and headed for our coach as the halt there was short. We made it in time and settled down, soaking in the alpine landscape rolling past.
My hands intuitively reached for the camera kept in a black bag that is always slung from my shoulder. But it was not there! Gone! Even more serious than the missing camera was the fact that the bag carried my passport and European currency. A cold sweat ran down my face. I realised I had left it on the bench in the frenzied flurry of boarding the train.
The immediate response was to inform the train in-charge. But the person concerned didn’t speak English though he muttered a few reassuring words and rang up the station security at Villach, which swiftly got back to inform that no such bag had been found. That meant the first thing to be done on reaching Vienna was to go to the police station and then report the matter to the Indian Embassy.
So there I sat with all the excitement and joy of the trip vanishing into thin air. My spirits were deflated like a soaring balloon pricked suddenly.
A little while later, we saw the train-incharge walking towards our coach holding something that looked familiar. Lo and behold! It was the greycoloured inner pouch that held my passport. A passenger in the adjoining coach had found it and handed it over to him. The train in-charge led me to a group of chirpy school boys in the next coach. As we reached nearer, a little boy got up holding my missing black camera bag!
Overwhelmed, I hugged the chubby lad and said, “Thank you, gratzi, thank you.”
He had found the bag on the bench at the platform and picked it up knowing it was mine but not knowing where I was seated. So as the train in-charge reached his coach, the first thing the boy did was to intimate him.
Once home, I shared my adventure and offered a salute to the young Austrian school boy and a toast to Mr R Franz of Railjet company. They made this trip truly memorable.
A COLD SWEAT RAN DOWN MY FACE. I REALISED I HAD LEFT IT ON THE BENCH IN THE FRENZIED FLURRY OF BOARDING THE TRAIN