I will start with my last travel experience, since this is my first time writing a blog, I have decided not to follow a chronological order.
I am the kind of guy that will always get in some type of trouble for trying to help people. But with my experiences I am learning that been a nice guy all the time is not the right way to go. Anyway, living and learning.
I had to go to Italy for a job interview. Instead of flying I decided to take the coach from London to Milan.
The coach takes 20 hours and goes via France and Switzerland. The story I have to tell happened on my way back to London.
I took the coach at the station of Lampugnano in Milan. The coach was half full, so I managed to take two seats for myself. I had brought a small pillow and a blanket with me, so I made myself comfortable and start to read my book " Dirty Trilogy of Havana".
The coach was going to make a stop in Turin and after in Geneva and Paris, before reach Calle.
When the coach stopped in Turin, is where my adventure started. Quite a few people got off
the coach and more people got in. One of then called my attention, was a young guy that sat
a few seats ahead of me.A few minutes later, a man got in the bus wearing a red jacket, and
start to ask if anyone was going to London.I thought it was someone from Eurolines and said
to him that I was going to London. He approached me and introduced himself. He said that his
son was going to London and needed some help to do the check-in in Paris, where we exchange
coach. I said that was fine, and he called his son, the some guy that had called my attention and
he came to seat next to me. I introduced myself and asked what was his name, he replied that
his name was Luigi and didn't say anything else, I then asked if he was Italian, and he said yes.
I thought that maybe he didn't want to chat, so I continue reading my book and didn't speak to him
until we arrived in Chamonix-Mont Blanc.
The coach make a stop in a petrol station and I got off to buy something to drink and eat.
When I got back to my seat, he offered me a can of red bull, and I tried to make some conversation
with him, but every question I asked the only thing he would reply was "Si", that means yes in Italian.
I went to sleep and didn't wake up until we arrived in Paris. When the coach stopped, I told him that
we had arrived in Paris and that we need to do the check-in and exchange coaches.
I went to collect my luggage and found very weird that the guy didn't have not even a hand luggage.
I asked him if he didn't have luggage, and didn't get an answer. I said to myself, fine, its not my problem
but it is not normal someone to travel to another country wearing just jeans, trainers and a light jacket to
another country. I went downstairs with him , did my check-in and showed him how to do his.
After that he followed me upstairs and we sat outside the coach station waiting for a couple of hours
until we catch the coach to London.
I thought that there was something wrong with him, but since he looked Italian, had an Italian Id card
and had already passed through two passport control in Switzerland and France, and nobody stopped
him, it was not my problem. And thought that maybe in Calle they would stop him,
I only find out that he was not Italian about an hour later when I heard he speaking on the phone in a east
european language. I then started to ask him questions, and for every single question I asked his reply
was always the same :yes.
At that point I was getting worried, as I didn't want to get in trouble for help someone traveling illegally
to the UK. I left him and went to seat inside the station, didn't matter where I would go he would follow me.
When I got into the coach he came and sat next to me, I try to tell him that there were plenty of seats
available and that he could get two seats for himself, but he didn't move.
Luigi, was a young lad, I thought he was around 18, he didn't had a dodgy look, he just seemed to be
very scared.
He fell asleep and I continue reading my book. When we arrive in Calle we had to pass first through
French passport control and the through the English. All the way to Calle I was thinking should I or
shouldn't I tell someone my suspicious. But and if I was wrong, in the end of the day it was not
my job to check on him if he was or not illegal.
I got of the bus and went in front, but he followed me and was just behind me. I passed trough both
immigrations without problem, but I noticed that the French immigration had stopped him.
I thought fine, so I was right. I went back to the coach and back to my seat, suddenly through
the window I see the French immigration officer coming into the direction of the coach.
She come inside and asked me to follow her. They found out that he was carrying a fake ID, and
that he was not Italian, he was from Albania.
I was fucked, as he said to the immigration he was with me.
After waiting for about twenty minutes, they asked me to collect my things in the coach and follow them.
They took me together with him to the police station. By now you can guess what happened,
I was been accused off, in the world of the police officer, to be a guide for illegal immigrants into the UK.
The only thing I have done was to help him with the check-in in Paris.
But the worse was to come, the guy was not only an illegal immigrant, but he was also 16 years old.
I had to wait from someone from the Italian embassy to arrive and translate my story, as no one speak
English in the police station, and the same was done for the guy, an albanian translator was called.
The guy from the Italian embassy told me that my future was in the hands of this boy, if he didn't confirm
my story, I could get up to four years in prison.
For my luck he decided to tell the police the truth and confirmed my story, but still I had to spend one night
in jail, behind bars.
I had my picture taken, digital prints, etc, I felt like I was in a bad nightmare. I had lost my coach back to
London and had to stay there for a period of 24 hours.
In the next morning, they called me to say that I was free to go, they gave me back my passport, and
an advice to be more careful with who seats next to me in the future.
But it doesn't end here, as at the same time that they told me I was free to go, so was he.
The police officer didn't even take me to the docks, I had to make my way, and I was outside Calle.
The boy followed me once again, as for my luck, he didn't speak a world of French, and didn't had any
money. I could help him anymore, I could get in trouble, so start to tell him that what he did was wrong
and that he already put me in lot of trouble for trying to help him, but didn't understand what I was
saying, he was a kid, scared, and wanted to go back to Italy, to Turin, where he took the coach from.
Even if I was mad with him, I couldn't help feeling sorry for him, he was used the same way I was.
I decided to take him to the train station and showed him where to get the train to Paris and from there
back to Italy.
I felt sorry for him, but I couldn't do much more, so I run away from him, jumped in the bus and went back
to the docks to catch a ferry back to London.
When I got into the ferry I felt really bad with myself, because despite all he done to me, I left him alone
and without speaking the language, in a strange country. In the end of the day he was just a boy.
So when I got back in London, the first thing I done was call my flatmate and ask for the number for the
Albanian Embassy in London. I called them and told what happened, gave a description of him, and
told them where I left him, so at least someone from the embassy could try to help him.
Well, that was my adventure in France. What I learn from that? Well, not help people you don't know,
even if you think that you are doing some good, because for trying to be Mr. nice guy I nearly ended up in
a French jail.
But I know that I will never learn my lesson, lol.
