The Kindness of Strangers: Solo Traveling

Chance encounters keep us going.

My last day in Italy, I had some negative experiences that set off my anger in a way it hasn’t in quite a while. Pretty quickly, though, I realized that fuming over this one situation made me forget all the kindness I experienced on the road, and almost instantly my anger quelled.

So, here are some acts of kindness from my travels.

The Man on the Plane

On the first leg of my solo trip to Berlin, I was sat next to a journalist-reporter. We struck up a conversation about travel and careers and gradually got into deeper philosophical questions (as these sorts of random conversations always seem to do).

After landing in Frankfurt, he made sure I got on the right shuttle bus for my connecting flight before leaving.

The Daytrip Driver (ok, this one I had to coerce a little bit…)

Daytrip is an international carpool service, still not cheap but useful if you need to get somewhere not directly accessible by public transport. My trip started off well, with the driver picking us up at Napoli Centrale Station in Naples, Italy.

Unfortunately, it was rush hour at the time, and that made the two-hour journey even longer. I’m also sure they didn’t drop us off at the indicated location online (because I’m a triple-checker and like to be prepared). I booked it because the initial location was only a 2-minute walk away from my hostel, but when we entered Positano, the car drove right past my hostel for another 10 minutes until it reached a larger parking lot below.

The last carpoolers got out, and I was left alone and bewildered. I asked the driver if he could take me back to my hostel directly; I was not going to walk 20 minutes uphill with a 29” suitcase in pitch darkness as a lone woman in a foreign land. I didn’t think my request was unreasonable. He said I had to have paid extra to be dropped off at the door. After some wrangling and waiting for him to talk to some nearby taxi drivers, he packed my suitcase back into the trunk and delivered me to my doorstep.

At that point, I was just relieved to be safe. I tipped him 15 EUR, which was probably overkill, but I didn’t care.

Sooo, this one’s not really the most gracious gesture from a stranger, but at least he didn’t leave me to fend for myself in the end.

The Waiter in Positano

I arrived at my Positano hostel around 8 PM, which is pretty late for that area. By the time I finally made it, my surroundings were already pitch dark, and I direly needed some dinner and a good night’s rest.

I headed right across the road to Ristorante C’Era Una Volta and sat down on the patio for some pasta and wine.

When I was little, I hated eating alone for reasons I won’t go into here. But I love eating alone on the road; it gives me time to people-watch (something I’m not compelled to do at home) and properly pay attention to my environment.

My waiter, however, might’ve been concerned about this young woman eating by herself late at night because he seemed to check up on me more frequently than etiquette required. I appreciated it. After my Daytrip fiasco, I was ready for some lowkey concern. It made my evening a lot better.

I went to eat there 2 more times because it’s convenient, and it seems like in Positano, the part-time staff are pretty regular. I saw my waiter each time I went. One day, I bumped into him heading to work as I went to meet my photographer downtown, and he seemed surprised at my dolled-up look, then blew me a kiss in passing.

Well, well. XD

The Convenience Store Owner

This is my favourite kind-stranger story so far. Back in Naples from Positano, I wanted to mail a necklace I’d forgotten to give back to a friend in Berlin. I found the nearest Poste Italiane to Napoli Centrale Station, printed my ticket for the only English-serving counter, and waited at least half an hour for my turn.

The woman at the desk told me they don’t sell envelopes or boxes, and I’d have to buy one at the convenience store across the street. Still having some time, I did as she said, but before I went, I thought about asking if I’d have to wait in line again when I returned. I didn’t because I thought she’d probably just take me directly (usually back home, that’s what people offer to do). It probably would’ve saved me a lot of time and grief if I had, but I wouldn’t have encountered the act of kindness from the convenience store owner then.

(Aside: What happened after I got back was that the woman refused to take me unless I waited in line again, and when I tried to convey that my train really was leaving soon, she folded her arms on the desk, stared me coolly in the eyes, and said with a hint of a mocking smile, “That’s not my problem.” Hello, rage. I stalked away after that, since I was on a time crunch after my coughing fit (see below) and figured I could get better service anywhere but here. I ended up mailing my parcel from Lisbon, Portugal, and it cost me cheaper than it would’ve from Italy.)

My whole time in Italy, I’d been sick and coughing. After purchasing an envelope, I was suddenly and violently overcome with one of my classic coughing fits — once a certain part of my throat gets irritated when sick, I can’t stop coughing. I had to leave my suitcase and step outside to hack away by the sewer drain. I couldn’t get it under control for a good, long while. It ate away at the time I had before my train for the airport left too.

Finally, I managed to pull myself together enough to head back into the store. The owner handed me a bottle of water, and I graciously accepted it and asked how much it was. He waved it off with a smile and said, “It’s free.”

It’s the small things that affect you the most. In that moment, I couldn’t have been more grateful to this person.

The Man on the Train

On my train to Rome Fiumicino Airport, I felt so bad for the guy sitting next to me, who had to endure my occasional coughs and sniffles.

I had a general idea how to catch my connecting train (the Leonardo Express) in Rome to the actual airport, but just to be sure, I asked my seat mate. He went the extra mile to ask directions from the station guard for me and even walked me halfway to the platform until I knew definitively where I was going.

Conclusion

No act of kindness is small. It’s easy to cave into yourself in a world of social media, political strife, and ever-increasing surveillance, so it warms me to experience the kindness that still exists on this planet.

(Note: It’s not lost on me that all of these people were men, so make of that what you will. I think it’s important to exercise caution but also make room to accept the kindness that does present itself.)

Traveling will open not just your mind but also your heart. Pass the kindness on; you never know who may need it most.