Gonzo Girl

The train system in Europe is amazing, but for the uninitiated it can be a bit overwhelming at first. 

So when the Old Lady with a shopping bag approached us at the S Bahn ticket kiosk in the Munich airport, we were grateful for her assistance. 

“Vere are you going?” she asked, outing us as Americans by beginning the conversation in English. 

“We are trying to get to the central station”, I answered without thinking.

“Oh, I am going there too. I have a group ticket that you can join me on. I have been with friends all day, and they have left. It is much cheaper to buy the group ticket. Just 30 euro. You come with me and only pay 15 euro.”  

Suddenly, I was on alert. Is this a scam?  No. It can’t be. She is very old, lugging a large shopping bag, wearing support socks and has a kind smile.

But to be safe, I say, “May I see the ticket?”

“Yes, of course.” And she produced a valid group ticket with the correct date. I asked if we could pay her when we arrived at the central station.  And she said yes. 

She proceeded to herd us on to the train but I couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow this could be a scam. Is she an old grifter working a con? Various scenarios ran through my head. 

Main scenario: Old Lady on the look out for stupid tourists at airport. Convinces them that she will give them a deal if they join her on the train. Getting off at the very chaotic and sketchy central station she asks for their payment only to be met by her hoodlum grandson who then takes their money and passports and runs away. 

Alternate ending 1:  Once at the central station, Old Lady fakes a heart attack and then springs up with surprising ninja speed, throws tourists to the ground, grabs their stuff, hurdles the ticket turnstile, laughing all the way to the bank. 

Alternate ending 2: There is a 10 lb weight in that shopping bag set to hit tourists over the head.

So many possibilities. 

Meanwhile, back in reality, the Old Lady was telling us that group tickets are always less expensive and that if you are traveling just in Germany, for 63 euro you can buy a German pass and get unlimited stops for a month. 

She went on to explain that she grew up in Munich but now lives in Frankfurt. She is visiting for two weeks to take care of her parents’ graves and to see old friends. 

Then the conversation quieted, and she pulled out some small pamphlets that I was sure were religious in nature. I fully expected her to foist them upon us and as a captive audience on the train, tell us about whatever she felt we needed to hear. Maybe not a scam, but clearly a motive. 

But no. She read them quietly to herself. I leaned over to Sean and said, “Do you think this is legit?”  He shook his head. “I’m not sure.” “Ok then. let’s put our cash in an outer pocket to pay her, let’s not expose our wallets at the central station.”

Solemn nods ensued. 

After a while, the Old Lady told us about her pilgrimage trip to the United States. Now, this is the very first time I have heard anyone ever put “United States” and “pilgrimage” in the same sentence. She said the group toured the old Franciscan missions in California on what is known as the El Camino Real or the California Missions Trail. We told her about the missions in other parts of the southwest and she was intrigued. 

Soon we arrived at the central station in Munich. The doors abruptly opened and my suitcase fell over. She quickly grabbed it and said,”Let me help you”. I panicked on the inside yet, followed her dutifully onto the platform, prepping for drama to unfold.

On the platform, we took out 45 euro (15 per person) to pay her and she said, “That is too much! 15 euro for all of you”. A huge savings for us.  Taking the money, she went on to explain the best way to leave the enormous and confusing train station without getting lost, wished us a safe journey, smiled, waved and walked slowly away. 

Watching her leave, I felt a mix of guilt and gratitude. In a world in which we often feel a need to be on alert, I was reminded, as I often am while traveling, that humanity tends toward kind and generous people.

And just when my compassion and trust are ebbing, it’s this sort of generosity that rekindles it.  

There are so many quiet saints out there, ready to reach out and support those in need. And it doesn’t have to be a big deal. 

Maybe it’s just helping to navigate train stations.

A heart felt thank you to Our Lady of the Train Station.