just a stranger on a bus

Over the past few days, I’ve had two eerily similar experiences in Salzburg and Venice.  If it happens again in Rome, it will be a magical trifecta of serendipity. 

On Friday night, on our way back to our hotel, my friend and I were trying to figure out which bus stop to get off at, while struggling to stay awake after about seven hours of planes, trains, and automobiles.  We attempted to match up the German nonsense that came from the speakers on the bus with the stop names on the screen at the front, without much luck.  We absolutely would have ended up riding the bus in at least two loops if we hadn’t been saved by our grandpa guardian.

About half way through our commute, an elderly man sat down across the aisle from us.  Right before one of the stops, he tapped me on the arm and asked me something.  I began attempting to half-say, half-mime that we don’t speak German, when he said “hotel,” pointing to the right with a grin.  I looked around, confused, and he repeated himself, gesturing that we should get off the bus.  As it lurched to a halt, I realized that he was indeed correct, that was our stop.  We thanked the man and leapt off as he nodded and chuckled to himself. 

As we walked down the street, it struck us how strange it was that he knew exactly which bus stop was ours.  We hadn’t spoken at all while he was sitting near us and I’m pretty sure we weren’t wearing anything glaringly touristy, so I have no clue how he could have known that we were staying in a hotel.  And secondly, of all the hotels in Salzburg, how did he know that we were staying in that specific one?  We chalked it up to some sort of higher guiding power and carried on with our trip.

Then, last night, it happened again in Venice.  While we were making our way back from Rialto to St. Mark’s Square, we inevitably wound up a bit tangled in the Venetian labyrinths.  We crossed deserted canals and scrambled through winding, narrow alleys, and were just about to start worrying when we suddenly came upon an old man.  He looked at us and said “San Marco this way.”  He began to point ahead and walk with us, so we followed him for a bit.  He stopped and said, “San Marco to the right,” then smiled and turned back the way we had come. 

Again, how in the world did this guy know where we were going?  It seemed impossibly similar to our Austrian experience.  In my opinion, it’s almost too fantastic to call coincidence.  I’m not particularly religious, but both men had me singing the “What if God was one of us?” song.  Hopefully, we get lost again in Rome.  I’m looking forward to meeting another adorable savior.