kindness of strangers

Ahoy,

There's this philosophy or saying I've heard before that goes something along the lines of how people live their lives dependent on the kindness of strangers. I can understand how there would be those skeptic cynics who strive to be fiercely independent. Strangers are strange, and inherently you don't have to trust them.

I try to know where I'm going and what I'm doing, but I have often depended on the kindness of strangers. And I try my best to be helpful to strangers. Never is the kindness of strangers more valuable and meaningful than when you are in a foreign country with only a small arsenal of the native tongue's vocabulary under your belt.

Of all the countries we've been in, France has had the least helpful, least friendly people who were the least interested in trying to help in any way. So we were apprehensive at coming back. But as the fates would have it, we found ourselves on a train that arrived at 2146. Somehow we got on the right train. Somehow we got on the metro and transferred to a bus that led us to our accommodations for the night. Somehow we got to Paris.

I can't recall how many times we have asked for directions, instructions, tickets, reservations, information, change, etc. I can't recall how many times it has been more of a struggle and frustration than it should be. And I can't recall how many people have hindered us.

Thank the mighty travel gods for all those who have helped us on our trip.

gracefully perturbed,
jt