A happy place on a dreary Sunday

Thank you Nigel, that was lovely.

Love this Nigel!

Nigel, a virtual hug from me for re-posting that thread. It's such an uplifting contrast to the postings fretting about unpleasant things that might happen or, in some cases, did happen. I'd wager that for every negative experience there have been immeasurable others which have touched the heart, lifted the spirit or restored faith in one's fellow man?

What was the word lnbsig used? Verklempt? Yes, that.
Missing our Zoe...

Nigel, thank you for sharing this thread. It's heartwarming to read about the magical moments people have experienced, as opposed to negativity. It's also a good reminder to allow time for these moments to occur. People who over schedule themselves are less likely to have these things happen to them.

Thanks, guys.

Maybe, if anyone would like to share lovely low key moments they've experienced while traveling (since the original thread is now closed) they could post them to this thread.

My wife and I had a magical moment in Venice.

We were walking from the Arsenale towards the area where the author Donna Leon based the Questura of Commissario Brunetti (we're big fans) and as we crossed a bridge heading that way we heard and saw the rubbish/garbage boat and its crew. We stood on that bridge, just watching as these municipal employees going about their daily business, for ages - probably the best part of 20 minutes. They have a little trolley which they wheel along the calles filling with bags left out, which they take back to the boat which has a small crane which lifts up the trolley over an area on the boat and the contents are dropped out. Then back over onto the little pavement and wheel it off in a different direction. Meanwhile another staff member has a twig broom and walks all around cleaning the footpaths and where the bags were. Then 2 or three others doing other things.

It was like a ballet, really good fun to watch.

Happy to oblige: I was walking through the cactus display at the Gardens at Trauttmansdorff Castle in Merano. There was a group of school kids coming through, who kept exclaiming 'Buongiorno, Cactus!', while their teachers tried to shush them in German. Gave me a laugh, and I was imagining that the cacti had never felt so well appreciated. (Edited for spelling - again. Argh).

Walking through one of the bigger piazzas in Lucca a couple of years ago, and suddenly hundreds of Vespa and Piaggio scooters tootled past.
Most of them were vintage, some had sidecars, and all the riders were happy and calling out to us, and laughing.
Made us laugh too!
Took about 15 minutes for them all to go past.
It sounded like a convoy of sewing machines going by!

Wonderful thread . . . keep it going.

Bolzano on a gorgeous day for sitting in a park while waiting for a museum to open. On the benches behind me, chattering in Italian. A woman, Russian, joined me on my bench. We exchanged pleasantries in our limited Italian and the occupants of the benches behind us fell silent. We continued our conversation and I excused myself as my museum was opening. As I walked, footsteps behind me and a woman calling to me. As I turned I saw her aged face full of happy tears, and then, "Signora, with all that I have lived through in my life, never did I think I would find in my town a Russian and an American speaking to each other in my language."

Waiting to go into the Nazrid palace in the Alhambra. I had gotten there when it opened and had about an hour and a half to wait. I went to the small kiosk and ordered a cafe con leche in the chilly air. One of the cats prowled near me and sat looking up at me while I sipped my coffee-waiting for a handout. It was so quiet and so neat to see the cats who usually hide when the crowds come later on. I then strolled to the side and looked out over the city of Granada with the sun still low in the sky. It was so calm and peaceful I could almost feel what Washington Irving felt living here.

Nigel, another Venice "ballet" story, this one involving Donna Leon herself.

I was walking down Strada Nuova on my way back from a ticket-buying trip to the train station, when I noticed Donna Leon just ahead of me, walking beside a young man and deeply engrossed in conversation. She is unmistakeable in appearance, looking just like her photo on the book dustcover. I did not want to behave like a stalker, but I could not resist following them as we were walking in the same direction. They moved through the oncoming crowd so smoothly and quickly it was wondrous to see. Definitely my fastest walk down Strada Nuova. ( I walked that stretch a lot, as my husband went to the piscine in Cannaregio, above the Ghetto, for his swim workout, and I often walked there with him and then returned to our apartment on my own.)

This is more amusing than heartwarming, but I still chuckle about it.

I have a friend who works for the government and was living in Europe at the time. I went to see her and we did some traveling in Central Europe. She started a collection of Starbucks mugs from all of the cities she'd visited, but said that she still didn't have one for Prague, even though she'd been there a couple of times. So, while in Prague we made it our mission to try to find that mug for her.

Every time we saw a Starbucks we would go in and look for it and chat with baristas about the likelihood of them getting a supply. Sometimes we'd buy a coffee, sometimes not. As we were staying close to the Stary Mesto location, we were in there a few times. We were finally able to locate a mug - I think at the one up on the hill to the castle. I bought one for myself as well, just because there was a story behind the hunt.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, during which time I'd been to Budapest (her location), Vienna, and Krakow. I was by myself at the airport in Prague getting ready to leave to go to London, and I had time to kill. So, I went to the Starbucks in the airport and the barista looked at me and said, "Oh, Hi! I remember you from Stary Mesto!" I laughed and said, I don't know whether I should be flattered or mortified!

It was my husband's experience, which I unfortunately missed (twice) because I was in class. In Urbino, Italy, he encountered a group of young school children with their teacher. They were singing "Jack va in cucina con Tina" ("Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah"). He introduced himself as American and one of the boys was proud to say that he had sunglasses which had come from America. My husband wrote out the song's English words for the teacher. Several days later, in a different location, he encountered the same group again. They sang the song for him in English.

I had a lovely encounter with a school group on spring break in Naples April 2017; we were in a line waiting for entry to the Sansevero Chapel. I said something to their teacher and when he learned I am an American, he encouraged his teenage students to practice their English with me! It was so lovely to meet these eager and bright young people, it seemed our wait in line just sped by. We even took several selfies with my iPhone, one of my favorite travel memories!

Last autumn I was walking around the walls of Iphofen and heard what sounded like wind chimes in the distance, a sound which I have always loved. I came upon a student who was playing a 'hang', a Swiss instrument I had never heard of before. We talked for a while, he let me have a go on his hang and I was suprised I could produce such a beautiful sound with my two left hands. He carried on playing whilst I sat against the base of a tree reading a copy of Grass for His Pillow. I'm not a big tipper but I was more than willing to give him a few old Deutsche Marks.

A few years ago my husband and I were visiting Venice and went to the island of Burano, where we got ourselves very lost while admiring the many beautiful painted houses. I asked directions in my limited Italian of a group of older Italian ladies. Their answer was in such rapid Italian that I didn’t get all the details. As we headed off in what turned out to be the wrong direction, I felt a hand on my elbow and turn to see a wizened tiny older Italian woman who explained to me that we were headed in the wrong direction. She offered to walk with us and chattered to me all the way. Once she stopped because she had lost track of my husband (who was right behind her) and asked, “Where is your husband? Am I walking too fast for you?“ This gave me a laugh, as she was clearly nearly twice our age. I asked her how long she had lived on the island, and with a twinkle in her eye, she replied, “almost 100 years.” She walked us all the way to the vaporetto stop and made certain we got on the correct boat. It’s one of my favorite memories of Venice.

In 2012, my husband and I were riding the ferry from Lucerne to Vitznau. It was crowded but soon after boarding, I found the only remaining seat outside watching the beautiful scenery as we passed - sitting next to an elderly gentleman who seemed to be there on his own. I nodded politely and smiled and that was all he needed. He talked to me (in German, which I don’t speak) for the next 40 minutes with a running commentary I understood not a word of. But he was clearly pointing out the sights and telling me how everything had changed and what it all used to look like. He didn’t need any response except my smiles and nods and I had an absolutely entrancing ride.

Nigel,

I can't think of any serendipitous moments to add to this thread, but I just wanted to say that I've enjoyed reading all the replies. It certainly did brighten a boring Sunday.

It is Monday where I am now (Switzerland) and many of you are just waking up or may still be awaiting dawn in the West Coast. I am not bored and it is not dreary, but I loved reading this old thread and thinking back on my own vignettes. Trying every day to make new ones.

As hubby and I often go back to old haunts one of the fun things is to remember people and events that happens on prior trips. Brings a smile to our faces even when the memory is of some error or less-than-perfect trip element. It’s nice the memory still works.

We were on a music tour of Ireland. We were at Matt Malloy’s pub in Westport listening to Matt Malloy’s son and two others playing some wonderful Irish music, when in walks the man himself ( Matt Malloy from the Chieftains) and he joined his son and started playing!!! It was unexpected and so magical!

I was staying at Burg Stahleck, sat down to eat dinner in a common room. The entire room started singing in beautiful harmony. Turned out they were a choir from Speyer who were taking an annual trip to give various performances.

sounds particularly nice

Standing on the sidewalk next to Place de la Bastille watching the afternoon traffic ballet around the circle, when a handsome older lady on a bicycle, straight and tall in a black dress, sweeps through the traffic, looking neither left or right, a picture of elegance and serenity. The sea of cars and trucks and motorbikes seemed to part for her.

Looking for a historic house in a town in Crete, asking directions from a lady putting laundry on a clothesline, she asking us where we're from, then running into the house and returning with three pieces of delicious cake. They call it philoxenia, love of strangers, the opposite of xenophobia which alas we see much more of.

I was walking rather aimlessly through Mantova, when I came to an intersection with Via Claudio Monteverdi (Monteverdi being one of my very favorite composers). Just then, I heard singing, followed by applause, coming from a building behind me, so I turned around and went in. Following a brief intermission, a small choir came in and sang a very fine set of Renaissance secular music, starting with Josquin's humorous El Grillo. Based on their ages, I'm guessing that it was an early music group from a university, similar to groups I've sung in here, although I never found out for sure. It was a wonderfully mysterious and serendipitous experience.