25th June 2005/ 10:12pm/ Torino/ Campeggio Villa Rey

Once again, we were shown the hospitality and courtesy of the Italians. This time in the form of a Good Samaritan allowing us to use the laptop in his restaurant cum grocery store. Out of courtesy too, we bought ourselves a Fanta, which the shop owner “upgraded” it from the piccolo 2.00euro to the bigger 2.50euro. Till now, I still can’t get over the generosity of the locals here, especially how good it feels when one’s far away from the familiarity and coziness of home. Is it just my lucky charm again or is it in the air this time? I’ll list the experiences here for you to judge…

Day One, 23rd June 2005/ Milan
Nothing much, but Italians were a good change from the French who were less warm

Day Two, 24th June 2005/ Torino
Being totally a stranger to the country with no proper guide book and all (Western Europe edition of Lonely Planet will not introduce you much about buses and small towns), we were not only at a lost for directions but most importantly, at a lost for (Italian) words. Fortunately for us, Good Samaritan #1 came to our rescue in the form of a bus driver. We were dozing away like pigs, still catching up from the jet lag since Paris (which was a week ago…well, I admit I am not so young anymore). Good Samaritan #1 came up to us, woke us up and told us it’ll be better for us to get off at that bus stop and take another bus to Porta Nuova (this is the jeez of what I get since he spoke in Italianglish, perhaps Jess and Kok Hin will give you a different version of it).

We stumbled out of the bus half awake. Well, I am not sure about the rest, but I was working hard to find two things: my orientation out of dreamland AND my eyesight since I was wearing my contact lenses to sleep. In the midst of rolling down the bus steps, I came face to face with Good Samaritan #2, this time in the form of a young Italian lady who spoke in short English sentences that we are supposed to get a tram ticket from the Tabacchi shop to take the tram. We must have looked really blur as she came back to us after 5 minutes to repeat it.

Still recovering from sudden-wakefulness-shock, I spotted the red post box beside the Tabacchi shop and steered my legs into the shop. With the post cards in my hand, I began with the good old “Mi Scusi” and demonstrated in short English sentences that I want to buy postage stamps that will get my nice post cards delivered back to Malaysia. That is when Good Samaritan #3 appeared, in the form of a translator. So the conversation went to and fro smoothly between the Tabacchi owner and me through Good Samaritan #3, who was in fact a smiley old chap who seemed to find his new disposition amusing. I found out that the shop ran out of 0.80euro and the ones left were for 1.40euro, which was too expensive for me. So I excused myself for wasting their time, but Good Samaritan #3 stepped in and paid for the stamps I wanted. Till now, I am not sure whether I thanked him or not, too shocked by the generosity. But I guess he found all this amusing because when we walked out of the shop, he whispered excited to a crooked old man outside, “malaisie…malaisie!”

Good Samaritan #4 came up to us when we were trying to make sense of the map at the bus stop. I went up to this big bubbly Italian man to enquire about the direction to Val Santo Martino (our campsite). He was not really sure where it was but tried hard to help us orientate with the map and the lonely planet. Good Samaritan #5 in the form of a dark hair lady (who looked Filipino and spoke English) was standing aside waiting for the bus, joined in the commotion and soon, three or four of them were jabbering in Italian, where the only words we could catch were Santo Martino, Via Superiore, 52 etc. Good Samaritan #5 got on the bus with us. Here, we got a sneak preview of how snatch thieves work in Italy as our Good Samaritan #5 almost got her hand phone snatched away.

Good Samaritan #5 got off the bus with us (which was two stops away from her original destination) and helped us catch a taxi, explaining to the driver where our destination is. And sure enough, we got to our destination, Campeggio Villa Rey, all in one piece, as if guided by Italian angels.