Your strangest moment in Europe.

In July, 2017, while staying in Geyser, Iceland, a small man in line ahead of us in a buffet style café had a tray of food so full he staggered to carry it to the cashier. We asked if we could assist him, but he didn't speak English (nor did he speak any of the languages attempted by the cashier). He didn't have Icelandic currency, so he paid with Euros - a total of 200 Euros. As the seating area was quite small and nearly empty, we couldn't help but notice that our fellow dining friend had previously carried three nearly identical trays - all equally stuffed with food to the table where he now sat. We presumed he had ordered for a gathering of others who were elsewhere in the restaurant. As we dined, it became obvious his four trays of food were not as we had presumed - this mound of delights was exclusively for him. There must have been 30,000 calories consumed, and they were eaten with enthusiasm and focused dedication. We had no business witnessing this event, but it was sufficiently amazing we just couldn't look away. Fortunately, his back was turned to us so he didn't realize he had an audience. When I hear of the Hot Dog easting contests common in the U.S., I think of our little friend.

In my former life I was a choral director teaching at a small college in Illinois. One year I took my choir on tour to England. We visited York Minster, and while we didn't have a formal concert there, we were given permission to sing an impromptu program. So we performed a few pieces for the tourists. Afterwards, a woman came up to me and said, "That was beautiful, thank you. We're from Ohio, and we were so hoping to get to hear an English choir perform while we were here."

I wish I could have faked a British accent and thanked her, but I had to break her heart and tell her we were from Illinois.

While in Budapest a few years ago hubby and I stopped at a restaurant along the river. There was a menu outside and we stood behind two women waiting our turn to review the menu. One lady stepped back into me and immediately started screaming as she fell to the ground with my wrist in her mouth. I was so shocked, which was probably a good thing, because I was seconds away from punching her in the face. She thought I was a pickpocket. She left marks. Her friend pulled her off me while my hubby just stood there. I could have killed him at the time.
I saw her and her companion awhile later having a drink alone the river. I started toward her but hubby stopped me.

I mostly have boring strange experiences usually involving plumbing like the toilet in Rousillon where I hunted for the flush mechanism for some time before locating the button on the other side of the room above the sink.

Re: things not always translating, I lived in Japan for a few years in the 1980s. Interesting attempts at westernized product names. The best though was a yogurt type drink called Calpis. Say that one a few times and decide whether you want to drink it.

My 16 year old son and I were on a train heading from the Cinque Terre to Milan. We were sitting in one of those six seater first class compartments with just one other passenger, a young Italian woman. She had a large suitcase that she had left out in the narrow aisle way. Maybe an hour or so into the trip, the conductor asked that she move her suitcase inside the compartment. It was large and heavy so my son and I jumped up to help her heave it onto the overhead rack. Even with three of us it was quite the task. She turned to thank us and said, “my husband” with a quick smile. She spoke not another word to us the rest of the several hour trip. Just a few phone calls in Italian.

We went to tour Inveraray Castle home of the Laird of Argyle and the Campbell Clan; my husband's clan. The Laird's actual name was Angus Ogilvy, my step-dad's name. We then found a lovely accommodation that night at a farm manor house. We went to dinner at a family style restaurant in town recommended by the landlady. At dinner we happen to notice that a family's son had a Seahawks sweatshirt and we were from Seattle...turns out they were from Vancouver, B.C. and follow the team like their own. We were invited to join them to talk about our trips so far. The Dad said that he was looking for Bagpipe Recordings...and was told the best band was from Vancouver. We wished each other well and said goodbye. It was dark when we drove back to our B & B. and we were followed all the way by 2 sets of car lights. We were pleasantly surprised that it was our Vancouver Friends. The other car had 2 couples from Glasgow celebrating a wedding anniversary...they invited all of us and the landlords for drinks at the farm's table. The kids were put to bed and we went to our room to freshen up and get our bottle of Scotch to contribute. We all had a great time! The husband of the anniversary couple said don't worry about understanding his wife as she was a real Glaswegian with a thick accent that even he couldn't understand half the time. He mentioned that sometimes it seemed like Monty Python to him. And both the Vancouverites and the Seattleites said we watched it on the same PBS station...that bemused the Scots until we said that we lived only 75 miles away from each other back home. There was no Scotch left.

I have had three odd moments traveling, two in the US and one in Europe many decades ago.
1) while traveling in the US looking for a cemetery out in the back mountains of WV (so my mom could do som genealogy) we stopped at a small country store to ask directions, (turns out we were about 20 miles away still) When talking with the locals about why we wanted to see a small WV cemetery we discovered they owners family was related to us...
2).While leading my parents and my Aunt and Uncle through the Air Force Museum (my uncle was in WW2 my dad in Korea). I looked up to see a half dozen or so strangers following us. They thought I was a tour guide. I spent the next hour or so leading them around and answering questions as well.

But the best was near the end of a month long trip to Europe back in the 70s we stayed in a hotel with “breakfast included”. But was also a restaurant open to the locals in town (more locals then hotel guests by far( Going to breakfast (typically rolls and cheese and meat back then) my siblings and I encountered a large stack (Undisturbed) of American breakfast cereal in small boxes and we are ecstatic.
As we get in line we watch a local read the box and dump the cereal into a bowl the dump a glass of OJ onto the cereal.

We get our and pour milk and sugar on it. Going back for seconds a local lady stops us and asks in very bad English if it is good with milk. We say yes then I ask how else you would eat it. She picks a box up and reads the print on one side that says. (I kid you not). “Good with Orange Juice”....
The lady then tries it our way and takes it back to her table. Over the next few minutes and after much talking among the locals about half the locals go grab a box and try it. We never did get another box as the. Locals cleaned it out.

I told that story to a lady once and she replied about the culture differences and communications issues from travel in the 70s. She was in Europe one summer and was hot so she entered a restaurant and tried to order iced tea (she was so so in the local language). She had ordered it at a place near her husband’s military base so figured it was available elsewhere in the country. What she got was hot tea and a bowl of ice cream....

Travel in the 70s was more “interesting” in that the culture and technology And language problems was much more radically diverse then it is today.

The orange juice story would never happen in Western Europe today..

douglas - we've had couchsurfers (young!) stay with us who put OJ on their cereal! I can't recall how many but at least 2 out of the over 90 surfers did this. I think one was from Germany and I can't recall the other, but sure from somewhere in Europe - I was going to say something then just shrugged.

Due to milk allergy, my son and a number of his cousins eat cereal with orange juice. In fact, that was his chosen lunch on Sunday....and he's 37. He eschewed the almond milk right beside the OJ bottle.

OK, wierd event:

1) In Vienna in 2011. I realized I was driving the wrong way to my hotel. So I did a U-turn (my wife said "DON'T DO A U-TURN"). A car about 100 yds away accelerates and gets on my tail. I stop at the light. The other driver, clearly a Turkish guy, jumps out and pulls open my door and starts yelling at me in German or Turkish. I pull the door shut, and leave the intersection. He follows me. One thing led to another and I finally decided to find a cop and work with him. I found a cop (who spoke clear English). The cop told the Turkish guy to leave the tourists alone. The Turkish guy said "I would never have done this if I knew you were an American". I didn't get either beat up or arrested, luckily.

2) Got pick-pocketed in Athens on the subway. That subway is the most dangerous one I've ever been on.

A segue back to cereal with OJ....I'm vegan and often on European breakfast bars there is no plant milk so I use whatever juice is available. Apple is best to me but OJ will do fine to wet it down. The cloudy apple juice in Brittany and Normandy is wonderful, lol!! The blandest and least tasty is that weird orange colored juice in Italy that is labeled Vitaminic or something close to that. No taste.

Not in Europe, but strange nonetheless. My German cousin was visiting her dad (my mom's brother) in Kansas. My brother, sister and I went to see them there. My mother was originally from a small town in Illinois and we all went on a heritage tour to see the town, cemetery, etc. She was actually born in a small town 27 miles from there. I have no idea why, as it was December 30 in the mid-1920's and they wouldn't have had a car. Sunday morning we drove to that town. Other than churches and a newspaper office nothing was open. We went into the newspaper office, where we found a man seated at a table with a large book in front of him. The book was archived newspapers and it was opened to January 1st, 2 days after my mother was born. Her birth announcement was on that page. It still gives me goosebumps when I think of it. The man had no idea we were coming.

In Venice we saw a man and his son come out of a house, and set themselves up to fish in the canal. They caught a sizable fish right away, but instead of whacking it on the head, the man squeezed it to death in a towel.

In Bellagio, we were having dinner at a beautiful lakeside restaurant. I became attuned to an "atmosphere" at a nearby table. They weren't yelling, but something caught my attention anyway. There was an American couple, maybe in their 60s, and the wife was leaving her husband. At this beautiful spot, she quietly told him all the ways he'd let her down over the years, then walked out. The waiter returned and asked what he could do; the man said to get him the bill as fast as you can. The man slumped away, very stooped. I will never know if he was stooped anyway, or it that was a result of the terrible incident.

In London, and a Londoner telling me he was having trouble understanding me because of my accent. All I could think was that I didn't have an accent, he did.

Don't know if this qualifies as "strange," but how about hearing a roar on Franz Liszt Square in Budapest after dinner, following it, and joining up with a crowd of male Dubliners at Beckett's Irish Cafe cheering on their "Men in Blue" in the Gaelic Football Championship game.

Allen, do western Canadians have accents? As a BC girl, I would have thought 'no', but been told otherwise. I prefer to consider it 'speech intonation'.

Maria, I've never been told by anyone else, that I have an accent.

I lived overseas for 5 years in Saudi Arabia and 4 years in Germany. I have traveled extensively while living overseas as well as from the USA, visiting 78 foreign countries.

I love planning vacations and have one huge screw up that I made in planning.
In 1983, while living in Saudi Arabia, working for the US Army, I had a paid trip back to the USA with 3 weeks of home leave, as well as 3 weeks of vacation in Europe. We flew into Rome and our three weeks ended in Paris. It was a great vacation, but we had to pick up a Pan American flight back to the USA. Since we had not flown into Paris, I assumed that Pan Am was stationed at Charles De Gaulle Airport, which is where we arrived for our flight. Well, it turned out that Pan Am didn't fly out of CDG, but flew out of Orly Airport on the other side of town (where domestic flights for Paris originated).

Fortunately, Pan Am had a charter flight flying that we could take us home, but the small airport was crowded and the Pan Am luggage check line was way too long. The attendant told me that if I could get my luggage up to the counter that they would cut us in front of all those people. I am about 6'2" and worked out, benching 280 and I had no trouble carrying the luggage over my head four times wandering through all those people. They were not happy, but I made it and we caught the flight.

It was a huge embarrassment, but I never took for granted anything like this again. Of course, now with the internet, research is so easy.

Nova Scotian - been mistaken for Irish and/or Scottish in Italy - and one who thought my husband was Irish was from Ontario. The other (Italian) said she was a linguist.

I held this one back, just because its so odd, that people will think I made it up. Flying from Naples to Rome, we landed at FCO for the main flight to New York. Coming off the plane , there was a line of official looking persons, with walkie-talkies. Our next gate was just three gates over on the same wing, and I could see a big jumbo just waiting there. The line of “Officials” were up palm, holding people back. “All people going to New York, Please gather here.” Just then a electric people carrier showed up also. As do four other guys looking very official with walkie-talkies. “Your gate has been changed, it is far away, and for those that can not walk fast, please use the people carrier.” The guy in charge talks some on the walkie-talkie, in English, to the flight crew, “All accounted for?” Reply was, “17” There is a quick count, and every person was asked if they were going to New York. We all, 17, of us said ,“Yes.” “You need to stay together and follow me. Our persons in the rear will help keep you together.” We then proceeded to run all the way around FCO back to what was the originally designated gate that was just three gates from where we started to board the same plane I originally saw . And then all these officials just vanished. Wife and I, have never figured out what this was. Some kind of, “Run through Security Test?” :)

Once flying to Peru our flight puddle jumped all the way from LAX to Lima. Our last connection was in San Jose, Costa Rica where our flight was delayed for over 12 hours. We left LAX at midnight. Once we had changed gates three time, the fourth change was quite a distance from the previous gates. At the fifth gate change, they put us all on busses, gave us a tour of the city and then a great lunch. I could hardly stay awake. We arrived in Lima at 11Pm only to have to be up at 4 AM to catch an early morning transfer for a early morning flight.

The flight stories reminded me of something I think might qualify.

I lived in Nuremberg and worked for the U.S Army 1982-1985. In 1983, I was on a tour to Russia. We flew back to Frankfurt from Moscow on Aeroflot.

When we arrived we taxied to a remote location and the plane was surrounded by soldiers. There were a lot of them and they were heavily armed, including automatic weapons.

This was a little disconcerting, to say the least. We weren't told much about what was going on. We were loaded into buses and taken to a place where we could enter the airport.

It was only after going through the typical arrival procedures of the time that we learned that the Russians had shot down Korean Air Lines Flight 007.

I think we might have been one of the first flights to arrive from Moscow after the incident. The passengers on our flight were predominantly German. All the weird arrival protocols we went through were for our protection.

Mln - thats an interesting story remind me of one of my stories. Not in Europe though. I knew this young lady that was house/dog sitting for a family while they were away and unfortunately the dog which was old died. She called the family and told the bad news then had to ask what do I do with the dog? They said you need take it to the vet and they will find it final resting place. This being Toronto and her not having a car she decided the best way to discreetly transport the dog was in a big suit case. So off she went on the subway. When she got off the subway and started dragging the suit case up and young guy offered to help/carry the suitcase up the stairs. Next thing you know the guy took off with The suitcase! She stood there flabbergasted but couldn’t help but think what the thieves thought of her when they went to open up there booty.

As for me the strangest thing I saw in Europe was at York minster. We were there as I am a farmer for the world ploughing/plowing championships held outside York. They of course held a service for the plowmen but what was surprising/interested in the opening part of the service they brought in a big draft horse and plough and walk him right down the isle to the altar. It was something I’ve never seen in a church before.

We spent one Easter in Caltagirone, Sicily. There was a procession with statues of Jesus, St. Peter and the Virgin Mary being carried through town while a municipal band played different marches for each statue. Mary's march was "The Stars and Stripes Forever."

Not strange but serendipitous.

My mom and I went on a London Pub Walk and Mom struck up a conversation with another female tourist. It turns out that they both grew up in the same town and went to the same high school ten years apart and were both nurses. My mom's hometown is not a big city so for her to find another classmate was pretty unusual.

These are terrific stories! Mine is from 1972. I was 19.

On my very first trip to Europe, my friend and I landed in London and sought a B&B. As we checked in, the young man behind the desk asked us what time we wanted to be “knocked up” in the morning! I a, certain my jaw dropped to my knees before I realized what he meant.

Was anyone here flying on 9/11?

This is a story in which I was involved but have no memory (so the details come from my parents’ stories to me). When I was very young my dad was stationed as an army doctor in Frankfurt for 3 years. My parents loved travel, so we would often find ourselves on trains/cars/boats all over Europe when my dad had time off. Once, we were on a train that for some reason had to pass through the East German border control (this was the late 1970s, so the Iron Curtain was in full swing). Apparently there were a fair number of American military families on the train. Passport control came on to the train and collected the passports, then disappeared into the little building next to the tracks - and we all waited, and waited, and waited. True or not, the feeling among the Americans was that this was a little game - so everyone just knew to “keep chill” and wait it out. I was a rambunctious, outgoing toddler, sitting on my mother’s lap at a window seat. There was a young East German guard standing stock-still just outside our window (my mom said he looked 18 or 19). I started frantically waving at him, bouncing up and down, slapping the window with my hands, desperate for him to acknowledge me. My parents tried to distract me, but I was not having it. My parents said that the poor guard looked fairly miserable - he was certainly aware of me, but could not move a muscle. After a particularly frantic series of waves, window slaps, and bounces from me, he quickly looked left and right, and raised his non-gun holding hand in a little wave of acknowledgment. I like to think that he and I were the start of the East/West detente.

Having a conversation with Isabella Rosalini in Istanbul, and being mistaken for Rick Steves in Gimmelwald.

I’m going to define strangest as unfamiliar and surprising. Through out the entire ordeal I kept thinking this would never of happened like this in the US.

Years ago a friend and I were in London and we’d been into Harrods to buy Christmas Tea Tins. We then walked across Brompton road to a cafe. French name I think but exact name escapes me at the moment. Climbed the stairs to the 2nd level where we found a small table. Ordered some tea. A man and a woman walked in and sat right next to us. Tight squeeze but we all made do. All of a sudden the woman stands up and loudly announces “I forgot my purse “ and creates a bit of ruckus about her forgetfulness. They then leave. We continue to sit and enjoy our tea. About 15 minutes later we leave and head out to continue shopping. We stop in a bookstore and my friend finds a book for herself and goes to buy it only to discover her wallet is missing. We retrace our steps back to the cafe in hopes it’s there but no luck.

The huge was problem was my friend kept her passport in her wallet and we were to be flying back to San Francisco, the next day, Christmas.

Long story short after getting back to our hotel we phoned the police who politely informed us that area was known for pickpockets. He then gave us a phone number to the American Consulate. Called and were informed who we needed to speak with had left for his “ country home, “ but they would contact him and have him call us at the hotel.

3 hours later he did and told us to arrive at Heathrow the next morning go to the security desk, give whomever at the desk his name and number and have them call him. We did this totally expecting we’d be delayed and miss our flight. To our relief the security personnel made the call, had a short conversation and then escorted to our flight. We boarded and flew home.

The next hurdle was getting back into the US without a passport. Seems our consulate guy had already arranged for that. At SFO we were met at the gate by security who checked my passport and told us they’d been notified of the loss of her documents.
They asked her who her favorite SF Giant baseball player was ( thank god she loved baseball) and that was it.

We then fought about who was going to marry the consulate guy!

Not Europe, but in La Paz, Mexico: Christmas Eve mass in the jam-packed Cathedral, big processional with the Baby Jesus statue carried aloft while everyone sang a hymn to the tune of Jingle Bells! We had fun later coming up with churchy lyrics in English.
Thanks, Janet upthread, for jogging the musical memory loose :)

Another in Guatemala City, December Solstice in 2012, the year the ancient Mayan calendar ran out & all that will-the-world-really-end buzz was semi-facetiously rampant. We'd been taken to traditional ultra-solemn ceremonies at the major archaeological sites, saw more on live TV (!), & the morning newspapers were headlined "World Ends Today?"

TV again, in Madrid one January 5th, when the Three Kings arrived for Epiphany in the main plaza via helicopter, were given keys to the city in front of cheering thousands, & stepped up to the mikes to give a press conference.

June 1990 Munich Airport and concluding a 30 day first journey to Italy and Germany. Boarding had commenced when my name is called and am escorted by security outside to a panel van where I enter via a back door. The Interior is separated into two compartments with a wire mesh panel. A security man sits facing me with my closed suitcase in front of him. He speaks German and motions to the suitcase. I don't speak German and have no clue of what he is saying. Dull as I am it is clear there is something in the suitcase causing an issue. So I motion for him to open the case, but he is reluctant. I am starting to think my boarding the plane is in doubt when he says "zinc" and motions to the suitcase. AH! "Pewter" says I and he looks confused to where he finally carefully opens the suitcase. Inside is a pewter serving dish wrapped in tablecloth and next to the serving dish was a wine bottle stop....................All perfectly positioned to appear as a suspicious package which could be construed as a bomb. Upon seeing the contents big smiles broke out and we shared a laugh. I was the last to board the plane and told my wife we need to be prepared to mention this scenario to the custom agent upon arrival at JFK. We carefully completed the declaration form and figured we would owe around $50 in tax. Going through customs I hand in the completed form and pull out my wallet when the officer asks "This your first trip to Europe?". "Yep, wanted to get one in before starting a family", I replied. He smiled and said, "Keep the money and save it for the family". Thus ended our first journey to which we have added many more.

I was slapped by a Japanese woman at the gift shop at Versailles. It was jam packed, and I think she thought I was her friend. She was standing beside me, then started shouting, and then slapped some trinket right out of my hand. We looked at each other and she looked horrified. I think I just left the shop quickly.

Andrea, Canadian hockey followers are familiar with a Slapshot. But you got a Slapshop.

Ive been trying to come up with a real surprise that I could recall. Maybe if there were unpleasant surprises, other than losing something, I’ve suppressed them and don’t remember.

But another post on this Forum just reminded me of one pleasant surprise - in Rome. It was the week before Christmas, and so maybe that is (or was?) off-season, but arriving at the Vatican Museums right as they opened, it was amazing to see a long rope entrance maze - totally empty! It would seem there must be times that an enormous crowd shows up, with a queue snaking around for a long, long wait to get in. The museums got busier as the morning went on, but we had a first 60-90 minutes with hardly anyone else there. Maybe the maze filled up later on, but it was surprising to see them airing out the maze ropes without any line of museum-goers that day. Last time at the British Museum in London, the huge queue was the opposite.

While I was living in Vicenza, I took a day trip by train to Verona, wearing my favorite pair of ballet flats. A drunk man stumbled into my train car and was sick all over my feet and shoes. I washed them out as best as I could and then threw them out and bought a new pair as soon as I arrived in Verona! I was pretty upset, but it’s a funny story now! 🤣 👠

Kristen - sorry that you had to endure a “Viccc rd nea pedicure.” But have your Italian replacement ballet fiats been your favorite shoes of all time?

Drinking and transportation - it’s coming back to me now. (1) We were on a train in England, and a very inebriated chap was several seats away, in a soccer jersey, onboard with his mates. He was getting louder and louder, shouting with slurred speech, and it looked like he was going to create a disturbance any minute. It seemed as if he was looking to start a fight, and was throwing his arms around. His companions were trying to settle him down. Nothing physical happened on the train, and hopefully no ones footwear got ruined. They got off before our stop, so we never saw them again. Wonder if they were heading to a match, or if the game had been n the past? Celebrating, or dealing with a defeat?

(2) Having British Airways direct flights between Denver and London have been fantastic for us over the last 2 decades. At first, it seemed that it was just Americans from the Mountain West heading to and from Europe, but more and more, it’s clear that there are non-Americans heading to Denver (and points beyond) on our return flights. A few years ago, a British bloke sitting right behind us told us about how much he was looking forward to seeing a baseball game, with the “Colorado Rookies.” He said it so many times, I almost thought he was talking about some team other than the Colorado Rockies. It’s not as if every player was in their first year! Anyway, he took BA up on their complimentary beer service in coach - again, and again, and again. Not that in-flight 1664 or Heineken is that high in alcohol, but if you have enough, you can get drunk. He did, and started getting loud and belligerent, especially after the patient flight crew cut him off. A male flight attendant came over, and I expected that with two or three words, he’d put him in his place in an only English way, and there’d be no more trouble. It wasn’t nearly as theatrical as I anticipated, with no thoroughly cutting remarks from the flight steward, but our fellow passenger had fallen asleep at that point. Wonder if he enjoyed the Rockies game, and how many Coors beers he downed over 9 innings?

We were taken to a fish restaurant in Poland. They literally took a big fish out of a concrete tub for each of us, and boiled them alive. Then served it on the plate, as is, skin, eyeballs and all. No accompaniment. We had no idea how to tackle that. I didn't really want to. The place was packed with locals, and they were all laughing at us.

(3) On the other side of the coin, we’d been in Nice, France, heading to Milan, Italy. We had a third of a bottle of wine left over from the day before, along with Ziploc bags of olives and cheese, and a baguette. We’d sat in two seats on the train, with a table in between the seats across from us. A very prim, well-dressed woman got on at one point, and sat on the other side of the table from us. We had to check out very early, and hadn’t had breakfast, no time to round up “proper” ingredients. She didn’t speak English, and we’d exchanged pleasantries, but weren’t able to have a long conversation. Feeling puckish, we broke out the food. Without water or other beverages, and with no glasses, we pulled the cork out of the wine bottle. Smiling at our seat area companion, we finished brunch, while swigging from the bottle. Not expecting her to accept, and with a wink, we even offered her a taste of breakfast. I think she must’ve rolled her eyes more than once. Haven’t done it again, and maybe we’re still vagabonds, but we were having wine before noon, on a train, with leftovers. Damned Americans!

Andrea, there are delicious Fish Boils in Wisconsin in the USA, but you do get sides - and no eyeballs or guts!

Was the person who caught them a Fishing Pole?

Early June of last year my wife and I were on a train from Monaco back to Nice, it was on a Friday afternoon of a long weekend and the train was packed tight- we were lucky to get on. At the stop in Villefranche the station was full of beachgoers waiting to get on after a day at the beach. There was one woman with two young kids, a stroller and all kinds of beach supplies that wanted on. There was no room but she wasn't going to be denied and took a running start and pushed her way on, leading with her stroller as a battering ram. I couldn't understand what was being said after that as as it was all in French but it sounded like a lot of angry yelling going back and forth between this woman and others. At the next stop, the woman and her kids got off and a fist fight broke out between her and a much smaller woman with a few guys cheering them on. While the doors closed and the train pulled out, the last thing I saw was the larger woman grabbing the smaller woman by the hair, threw her down to the ground and began kicking her.

Cyn, you're cracking me up!

My friend and I were on a street food tour of Naples last fall, and at the first stop, a platter of vegetables, meats and cheese was put outside the shop we stopped at.
It was on top of a barrel, and fairly rustic.
All of us tour participants gathered round, about nine of us.
We then slowly noticed a little Japanese lady also helping herself to our food.
We all tried surreptitiously asking each other if she had been on the tour all along.
No one had seen her before.
Someone gently told her this was a paid private food tour...she was absolutely mortified! and scuttled off pretty quick.
She had thought the food was just samples put out for the public...

Someone asked if anyone was flying on 9/11. My husband and I were not flying on that day, but we were in the little village of Kandersteg, Switzerland, which is at the end of a small road and is visited mostly by hikers. As it was very cool that September and we had not brought warm enough jackets, we went into a small shop to purchase warmer gear. When the young lady who worked there, learned that we were from the US, she told us, "You can't go home!" We thought she meant that her small village was so wonderful we would not want to go home, but, no, she literally meant, "You can't go home!"

In August, 2006 after our 40th anniversary trip (2 weeks Great Britain and 2 week Baltic Cruise), we spent the last weekend in London before our flight home on Monday, which I believe was 8/14. Apparently there was some big threat to international air travel because getting home was quite the ordeal! At Heathrow we had to wait outside in very long lines for several hours. Then when we were finally allowed to check in, we had to check EVERYTHING, including every bit of carryon luggage, even camera, camcorder, etc. All we were allowed to take on the plane with us was any prescription medications we would need for the flight, and eye glasses. Could not even take a book or magazine for that very long flight. Needless to say we were very happy to get back home from both of these trips!

"At Heathrow we had to wait outside in very long lines for several hours. Then when we were finally allowed to check in, we had to check EVERYTHING, including every bit of carryon luggage, even camera, camcorder, etc. All we were allowed to take on the plane with us was any prescription medications we would need for the flight, and eye glasses. Could not even take a book or magazine for that very long flight."

We had the same thing happen in August 2006. We arrived in London, our last stop on our trip. That night, in London, they arrested the people who were plotting to blow up a plane by combining liquids while in flight. That's why we are now limited to the quantity of liquids we can carry on board. Anyway, there were no flights for days. We were lucky that flights resumed on time for us. At Gatwick we had the same experience you had at Heathrow and we had to arrive 5 hours before the flight. Even then we were delayed and almost missed our connection in Houston.

Not in Europe but getting to Europe ... my husband and I have to connect in Seattle heading to Italy. We grab our bags off the Alaska Air flight as we haven't learned how to ask for our bags to be checked through at that point. We have like a 8 hour layover. About hour 3 I realize that the bag my husband has is not his bag. He has the RS backpack, OH NO! We had just bought our first cell phone ... I told my husband to call the number on the bag that he had picked up by mistake. He does and the guy on the other end of the call says... Hi Paul, you must have my bag. YEP! Where are you. For those who know SEA... N gates ... leaving for Japan in 2 hours..... we run from the C gates to the N gates train ... and switch bags. Come to find out the guy had only that morning decided to put a tag on his bag with his contact information. When his bag didn't show up on the carousel he just took the last bag hoping that person would figure out he had the wrong bag . Smart move! And NO there were not the same size :)

Mister Toads Wild Ride. While in Rome we had figured out a bus route to Hadrian's Villa, in Tivolie, they drop you off maybe a quarter mile from the site, then you have to walk to it, and walk back to the next bus stop in town. Had a great time and spent too much time at a corner restaurant drinking wine, eating snacks and talking about the day. So we had to catch the LAST bus back to Rome. So we waited at the bus stop...... and waited....... and seriously waited. We figured the bus wasn't going to happen, so we started walking in to town. Maybe a half block as we started walking into town, there comes the Bus. Its a small bus, 30 or so passengers. We wave it down. Driver says, Get In and Sit Down, which we do. Then I get up. I'm trying to pay for the ride, and the driver just looks at me and says very sternly, "Sit Down." Okay. We sit down. The rest of the bus is filled with what looks likes 70 year old women. He then proceeds to drive this 30 passenger bus in a manner I have never seen before on a 1 1/2 lane curved road. Full lock braked slides in to corners, three wheels on corner turns , and just a Beep Beep on the horn around blind corners at 40 MPH, and at every straight, he is flooring it. I seriously thought he was going to flip over the Bus. I've never seen any CDL person in US drive like that. And we never really payed for the ride. But he did get us to the train, on time, back to Rome. :)

On our first trip to Rome we booked a car service to take us from the airport to the hotel. We asked our driver Mauricio to drop us off at the Morgana Royal Court. He said si, si - Morgana and we were on our way. Mauricio pointed out sights along the way and deposited us at the hotel. The desk person informed us that we had arrived at the Morgana hotel, the sister property of the Morgana Royal Court. Even thought we were exhausted from the overnight flight, we trudged with our luggage to the other hotel.

The desk clerk at the Morgana Royal Court informed us that there had been a mix-up with the reservations. I’m sorry, he said, but I can get you a room at our sister hotel...

Yup, I also flew out of Gatwick in 2006. I had a total of 4 pat downs in the airport
Luckily, though, my elderly mom and I each tore 4 pages out of her sudoku book and had golf pencils from the last hotel because Bic pens were certainly on the forbidden list. We were allowed to keep our sad attempt at entertainment. The bite story inspired me, I'm going to start a non life threatening but painful accident thread.....

I've never seen any CDL person in US drive like that

CDL????

California driving licence?

CDL commercial drivers license. Anyone driving passengers or cargo (i.e., a commercial vehicle) is supposed to have one.

We were in Ireland, visiting friends. They took us to a medieval dinner at a castle. We’d booked a taxi to pick us up after it was over but it didn’t show. My friend noticed a tour bus full of Swedish tourists and asked the driver if he’d give us a ride to the nearby village. He agreed- on the condition that we sing a song for the bus. My friend’s Irish husband launched into “The Wheels on the Bus” and all the Swedes joined in and sang the entire song with us. Every so often, my husband and I ask each other if that really happened, it was such a bizarre experience.

Janet’s tale reminded me of our January 6 experience in the Taormina cathedral. We were there to hear an amateur choir concert, but had arrived a bit early, before the service ended. As the congregants walked up to receive communion, I realized that the organist was playing “White Christmas.” I believe that tune must be quite popular in Sicily because later the choir also sang it with Italian lyrics.

2003, Paris, transportation strike. We were walking from Gare du Nord back to Rue Cler, likely along Rue la Fayette, where there was a huge demonstration, with a van with big speakers on top, playing the theme from Bonanza! Wha?

Summer 1979, student exchange in Leningrad while Brezhnev was still in power. We slept 6 to a room, including our Komsomol watcher. Many strange moments, but this one remains unexplained: a young man started hanging out with a small group of us. We were eager to make local connections but had been warned against it. After a few days, he offered a tour of the town and we foolishly accepted. He walked us all over, ending up on the far side of the Neva river just before the bridges went up for the night. We didn't know that happened each night but of course he did. So we were unable to get back to the dorm until morning. He took us to his parents' apartment. They had locked all rooms but his bedroom and the bathroom because (we found out later) he had a habit of setting things on fire. We perched uncomfortably on the floor, watching him drink, and trying to stay awake and alert until the bridges were lowered again. He then unconcernedly walked us back in the right direction. Got a dressing down from the program director but then were released back to class. Nothing bad happened except a night full of anxiety and language struggles trying to figure out what on earth his motives were. He didn't ask for money, favours of any kind, nothing.

There are many other stories from that summer...it was certainly an educational experience, if often uncomfortable (and for the record, I will never eat borscht again. EVER.)

On one occasion when checking into a hotel in Munich, the man behind the counter greeted me by name before I even opened my mouth! When I express surprise he just went: oh when you have been looking at someone’s picture everyday for almost 10 years it is not very difficult.....

It turns out his wife had been on a hiking holiday in Ireland during her student days and I was one of the tour guides. Her favorite picture from the holiday was one of the boatman and myself sharing a joke in the Black Valley in Kerry in 1986 and it hung in their hallway.

Jim, that picture with you could've been put on the cover of a tour brochure, and even more unknown folks would recognize you!

Nelly, the borscht I’ve had in Russia (1976 and 1997) has been very tasty, couldn’t be beat. But from your experience, it sounds like yours couldn’t be beet!

Cereal and WHAT??
Not my memory - but my Mother's. Around 1985 my mom and her brother were with a group touring Scandinavia and Russia. They stayed for several days in Moscow - always escorted closely - as was the practice then. For breakfast on the first morning the hot cereal came and one of the tour members asked for milk. Soon each member was PROUDLY presented with a glass of milk - that on tasting turned out to be buttermilk. They all politely used it on their cereal or drank it thinking it would only happen "today". Not so - on each of the next 3 mornings every place had a glass. All were too embarrassed not to use it after seeing the extreme lack of supplies and long lines at the local markets. Ever after - whenever we talked of milk or buttermilk there was a chuckle.

Last year in Budapest at the big market building -- I selected some paprika and gave the cashier exact change using HUF we had left over from a prior trip. She looked at the bills and announced "your money no good!" I thought maybe it was too crumpled, so tried some others. "No good!" Did we have counterfeit money ? Were the police going to haul us away ?? Turns out that the government had reissued currency a few months earlier... we had to go a few blocks to the post office where they easily exchanged new bills for old. And then back to the same market stall for the paprika, smiles all around.

I dont know that I would call it strange, but it was certainly memorable to me.

In Paris on my own (must have been early 2000s), I had gone down to breakfast at the little hotel I was staying. The breakfast room was mostly empty with the odd couple or two, myself and a German businessman. A lady of the breakfast staff went over to the German gentleman and said something to him in French (she had no English or German). The German man looked at me and said in English - do you know what she just said? I looked at the lady and asked in French what she needed - to which she replied in French she needed his room number. I said this to the gentleman in German, who replied to me in English, which I translated for the breakfast lady to French. The lady smiled, delivered the man his breakfast and went on with her business.

Afterwards, the German man asked me how it was that I spoke any French or German. I told him that I came from a military family that had lived in Germany for several years and that while I was at school I had taken it upon myself to learn some German and French. He was amazed, and told me that in Germany, if you learned a second language, it was English.

Mike, I was two days from being “come from away” and was on a Rick Steves tour Sept. 11. We spent an extra week in Vienna before we could fly home. We went to Schonbrunn twice, Melk Abbey, found an English-language bookstore, and went to see “A Knight’s Tale” at the English cinema. The day we were at the train station heading to Melk, there was a big guy in a trench coat running along the platform while juggling three old suitcases. As he was running, he frantically yelled, “Budapest! Budapest!” To this day I wonder if he made his train! :)

Rachel, he may have started a new suitcase company, and is personally responsible for the immense popularity of rolling bags today. Less juggling, more wheeling. Then again, 3 bags with wheels now would be a lot to manage, while running for a train.

And many trains are a lot faster now, 19 years later.

Vienna - what a great place to have an extra week, during a strange and stressful time!

Junior Year in Munich - 1973-74 - aged 20 - so many, many strange moments. The scariest would have to be hitching back from West Berlin to West Germany. Hitchhikers lined up at the border as did cars. When you and a car were both the next in line, usually, something was worked out and a ride was negotiated. I was with a female friend who spoke German better than I did. Our ride was an American car driven by two guys about our age. Yeah.

When driving from West Berlin to West Germany, cars had to traverse East Germany, and the trips were timed with hefty fines (or worse?) for transgressors. There was only 1 rest stop on the route. My friend and I were accepted into the rear seat of the car and absolutely zero conversation took place. We definitely felt anxious. When we got to the rest stop, we had to wait there about 2 hours to make up for speeding along the autobahn and so we could exit the country at the expected and accepted time. It was dismal. We would be happy to reach the border and disengage.

Only problem was, as we approached the border of West Germany, our drivers began rooting around in various car pockets for substances which they then shoved down their jeans. We were scared out of our minds. East German prison????

We made it into West Germany and were dumped at a road stop just inside the border. Hysteria, crying, thankfulness! And we recommenced our hitching since that was the only option open to us. Again, an American car, with a middle-aged man who, once on the Autobahn proper, began showing us various porn photos. My friend was in the front seat while I was in the rear. We told the driver what he was doing was illegal (was it?) and to drop us on the side of the road. His response was that hitching on the Autobahn was illegal. We demanded and threatened to leap from the car - and he let us out.

We sat on the side of the autobahn weeping and weeping. There was barbed wire to prevent getting over to villages we could see. At that point, we figured the police were a better bet than what we had been through (I will never know if that were the case). After a long time sitting and weeping - no longer hitchhiking - a double tractor-trailer passed us. The autobahn was actually pretty deserted, seriously empty of traffic. The truck pulled up quite a ways down the road under an overpass. The driver got down and slowly approached us and told us sitting on the side of the Autobahn was illegal. We had no reply, but eventually recounted our last misadventure.

The trucker offered us a ride into Munich to our student dormitory city. Third times a charm? I figure it was a toss up we made it or not. The driver was true to his word. He was pleasant and avuncular and played country western music the entire way. We made it home. And I am so, so thankful.

A a very strange day in the life...

Long before ocean cruises became a household word --my wife and I decided to get our feet wet and tried cruising . . .that was in 1994.
In the following years- the only ocean-going cruise ships were the Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary 2 that sail from New York to England.
Our time for  cruising was tight so we could not fit our vacation time with QE sailing schedule. We were still working at the time.  So we could not arrange any accommodation. They were called ocean liners. . .not cruise ships.

There was a travel agent in Texas much like RS that offer cruises to the Mediterranean. . .but you have to fly to Athens to board the ship. 

Long story short, we arranged for a tour package that took us  to countries  along the shores of the Black Sea. . ..starting from Istanbul-- then around the Crimean Peninsula in Ukraine to Bulgaria, Romania, Georgia  and Sochi, the southern part of Russia in the Urals.

Having completed this Black Sea Sojourn we sailed back to the Ligurian Coast  on the way to Cinque Terre.
Since there were no mega-cruise ships at the time--the ship we embarked on was a  WWII troop ship  that was authorized to hold 150 passengers.
It was refurbished in Poland.
I enjoyed the stop overs especially in Nessebur, Bulgaria where we were greeted by a full dressed marching band when we disembarked for a tour and a night stay on board.

We attended a wedding in Sebastopol in Crimea.

At the Bay of San Fruttouso in the Ligurian Coast, Italy --we attended a fish frying festival where the whole village fry their fish in a huge frying pan about 15 feet in diameter. This fish festival is celebrated on the second Sunday in May and fresh fried fish are distributed  free.

The lives of these villagers revolve around fishing for their livelihood and they have a statue of  their patron saint  underwater where they clean (remove barnacles) regularly. It is also paraded in the village during the festival.
The village is Camoglio on the opposite shore of the Ligurian Peninsula ... a short drive from Portofino.

If you love fish this is the place to be.