FOR THE ITALIAN TRANSLATION OF THE POST: HERE
Anyone who has traveled to San Francisco in the summer of 2006 could see, along the large highway connecting the downtown to the international airport, a large billboard where few lines were written down:
- “Be nice to tourists. Soon you might be a tourist too “-
A peremptory command, almost an imperative, astonishing in its simplicity and intelligence.
Such a pity the opportunities to put it into practice are scarce or missing at all.
The modern tourist, equipped with his/her Lonely Planet and his/her digital camera, might need only a simple direction to get a monument or a restaurant. But even these last fearless prophets equipped with a city-map are intended to extinction, threaten by the spreading of GPS and navigation systems.
Nevertheless, we should always keep in mind the good teachings, because sooner or later the opportunity to put into practice could finally occur.
Since a few months in Verona some wireless areas have been created, where you can connect to the internet for free after using your username and password (you can get both at the town-hall or at the public library).
I will refrain to express triumph for the spreading of a technology whose rise sees Italy among the last places in Europe. Actually, this is truly disappointing when compared to the performances achieved by the heroic little Estonia.
In that bonbonnière known as the capital Tallinn – in a permanent balance between high tech and fulminant development, the glorious age of the Hanseatic Old Town, and old Soviet dust – Skype has its citizenship and has its headquarters.
Furthermore, a network of 365 wi-fi access points, for the most part free of charge, covers the whole urban area.
If these were no enough reasons to make you curious and intrigued by this small Country, just know guys your stereotypes are real: Estonian girls are astounding.
One of the areas of Verona, where it’s now possible to connect freely is Piazza Bra, the core point of this magnificent town, surrounded on each side by the Arena, Palazzo della Gran Guardia and the City Hall.
Hemmed in this amazing outlook of pure beauty, I’ve taken the habit to sit on a bench by the shadow of the large trees in the middle of the square.
And then, keeping on surfing with my mac, surrounded by the colorful humanity you see in such cities full of art, and overwhelmed by the euphoric excitement you feel in the everyday-life of an Italian city when Summer is going to come soon.
Piazza Bra seen from the Arena
But in the evening what is beautiful turns into prodigious.
The Arena stands majestic, immovable, the square seems so great. And the euphoric excitement turns into relaxed cheerfulness among the people passing by brandishing ice-cream cones and slushes, and among lovers hugging tighter.
The Arena by night
Last Tuesday evening I went out to write some e-mails, and so I was seating next to equestrian monument of that dumb moustached Casanova who used to be Vittorio Emanuele II.
I got used to ignore people’s glances of wonder. For many seniors – the dominant anthropological category in Verona – the vision of a boy, right there in the middle of the square, skiping via internet is simply unconceivable. Not a few are those who, fascinated, come some steps closer to check what the hell I am doing.
So at the beginning I haven’t noticed the shadow approaching me. Only when he was a span from me, I lifted my eyes up and I saw a young man, about thirty, dressed in an untidy manner and with a large backpack on his shoulders.
Intimidated.
The the conversation started with a short exchange of words.
- “Excuse me, can you speak English?” –
- “Yes” –
- “Is this a wireless zone?” –
- “Yes” –
- “Is it for free?” –
- “Yes, it is” -.
Then the untidy-dressed young man won his shyness, explaining me in a torrent of words he had an urgent need to use the internet, because tomorrow is going to Padua and the Hostel has canceled his booking and internet cafes are closed and he must find a place to sleep immediately otherwise tomorrow he’ll be lost
Who knows what the inscrutable walls of the Arena were thinking behind this panting and breathless stranger, appeared in the middle of the night begging to use my mac.
I had no many doubts about it: – “Of course, take a seat” -.
Shortly, after a thorough research lasting twenty minutes the guy had managed to find a good hotel near the center of Padua, taking carefully notes of the address, contacts, and directions. Next to him, I had been giving informations on locations of the various hotel, telling a variety of tips and anecdotes about Padua.
Then it happens that, now soothed and calmed, he invited me for a beer at a pub nearby.
And I stood up and went, because everyone on this planet – even those with the most seemingly insignificant Life – has an interesting story to tell. Perhaps it’s not longer than a handful of words, but it’s our own one.
So I met Marcel, who is German, and he works as a waiter, he lives in the eastern Germany where there is no work – he complained – and he likes to travel across Europe by car. it’s not that he’s afraid of flying, but he prefers journeys at a slower pace. Above all, he says convinced, the place you are gonna visit may be understood a lot by the easiness you achieve the goal of parking your car.
Albeit with a small effort, I think I honored the precept I read three years ago, while I was leaving the United States. Now I am going to be back, I hope to find in Richmond the same kindness for the little aids I might need.
As for you, were you or not in San Francisco, had you read or not that billboard, were you gonna go to Richmond or not: write those words down, and bring them with you.
Be even more daring: delete that “to tourists,” and replace it with “to people.” Or again, do not write anything, be just kind and gentle
Who knows, maybe you will be much luckier than me and an Estonian girl will fall at your feet begging for help.
But at the worst, just know you will end up with a beer granted. And maybe even a story, fascinating or dull or seductive, – who cares -, but whose existence you even ignored before.
