FRIENDLY HELPFUL PEOPLE

I try to blend into my surroundings and not scream tourist when traveling. Occasionally I miss the mark, like the time I was sitting in the stalls at a London theater dressed in a red and white stripped blouse under a red sweater vest. Believe me, I was easy to spot from anywhere in the theater among all the dark colored, drab-dressed Londoners. By the way, the stalls are the main part of the theater, what we would call the orchestra. I normally wear a lot of red, cranberry, and maroon so I have a travel wardrobe of more muted sedate colors for visiting the continent.

I must have a friendly-looking face as I’ve run into the nicest most pleasant people all over the world. In Vienna, Jan and I left our hotel heading for Stephenplatz and hadn’t gone more than a block when a car pulled over to the curb to ask directions. Although we had been in the city only a day and a half, Jan knew what the woman was talking about and actually was able to give her directions. What are the odds of a stranger in town knowing the answer for another stranger in town?

Late in the afternoon of our first day in Quebec City we were walking back down to our hotel when I spotted a couple on the street corner looking a bit lost. We stopped and I asked, “Can we help you find something?” Jan started to laugh saying, “Lee we’ve only been here a few hours. What do you think you can tell them?”
“I know, but we know where a few things are,” I answered.
The couple turned out to be waiting for friends. It was their 4-5 trip to the city for those native Canadians. We chit chatted for a few minutes on the street corner when suddenly the fellow asked, “Where are you eating this evening?"
“We don’t know,” we answered in unison.
He instructed, “If you follow this street to the end you’ll find Portofino Bistro and you’ll have the best Italian food ever.”
We thanked him and continued on our way. We did indeed find the restaurant that was located in a house dating back to 1760. We enjoyed the warm friendly atmosphere and the gracious friendly people. But most of all we enjoyed the superb lasagna. It was certainly a good choice, and one we would have bypassed if we had not spoken to that couple.

In Dublin, we were on our way back to the hotel after a long day of sightseeing when a middle-aged man stopped up on the street saying, “Excuse me. Can you tell me what is behind that fence across the street?”
Again, we knew the answer. “It’s Trinity College”
Then we got to talking. He was a country minister in town while his wife attended some seminar. We talked for 15 minutes or so when he finally asked if we’d like to join him for a drink at some pub. It was a tempting offer as he was an interesting man, but it was the end of a very long day and we were both tired. Anxious to get our shoes off and to relax we declined his invitation.

In city after city when people saw us looking at a map or puzzled at some street corner, they would ask if they could help us find something. We always found their advice and information helpful. I guess we must have looked enough like Americans as we were always spoken to in English.
In Auckland late one afternoon we hopped on a bus to go back to the stop near the hotel where we’d boarded the bus hours earlier. The friendly bus driver got talking to the four of us. Instead of dropping us off at our stop he drove us to the hotel's front door. Maybe we looked tired, but we sure appreciated his kindness and consideration. What a nice thing to do!