Solomon

Everybody who's done much traveling has a horror story about canceled flights, car breakdowns, vomiting fellow passengers, etc etc. Before last week, my best was a trans-US flight that got mangled into three days of flying, including a night in a chair in the Philadelphia airport.

Last week, a 7 hour train trip from Hannover to see my friend Alex in London turned into a 24-hour affair. Some of the details are not so exciting, but after getting rejected from overbooked trains, buying bus tickets that I ended up canceling, and contemplating a night on the benches of a Brussels train station, I finally ended up in Calais, France to catch a ferry to England. Apparently, the Calais--Dover ferry passage is one of the busiest in the world. Apparently, it's not busy enough to allow foot passengers after 10pm on Sundays.

The woman at the ticket counter told me I needed a car, and that I could just hop into someone's car to get on the last ferry of the day, which was leaving in a few minutes. I began to ask her how this makes any logistical, political, or security sense, but after the 18 hours of travel at that point, I didn't want to press my luck. No customers were in our ticket office, so I ran next door where it looked like people were buying tickets for the competing ferry line.

Here in line there was a varied group of people including an elderly couple, some people I don't remember, and Solomon. I approached Solomon and asked if he spoke English. He said sure. I told him that I was trying to get onto the ferry, but I needed a car. Which I didn't have. No, no, no, I didn't want to obtain his car, I'd just like to get in his car, pass through the gate onto the ferry, then we can go our separately merry ways. He laughed and said absolutely.

That's when I first figured he may be a murderer. He was a wee bit too into the idea of me coming along. But I tried to chalk that feeling up to fatigue-induced delirium and an overly cautious mother.

He asked me what I was doing when I got to Dover. I told him that my friend from London, Alex, was picking me up. (Haha! There's a witness!! Murder plans foiled!)

"Then you going to London?" he asked. I said yes, and he calmly said, "Well that's silly for him to pick you up. I take you to London."

For about 3 seconds I resisted, but then figured what the hell.

At that point, another haggard backpacker entered the ferry office and approached the ticket counter. I was not surprised when I heard the guy groan in heavily-accented English, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO HAVE A CAR??"

Solomon and I looked at each other, and then Solomon leaned over and said "Hey, you can get in my car."

Our newly acquired companion, Pedro, is a 20 year old Brazilian who had just finished school in Sao Paulo, and had arrived in Europe earlier that day. His first day on the continent, and he can't even get on a boat without having a car.

Solomon apologized profusely for not having more room for all of our stuff in his small sedan. As we loaded in, he let me use his cell phone to call Alex. My murder fears, slowly dissipating for the last 25 minutes, were now completely gone. Well, maybe not completely gone, but I had solace in the fact that if Solomon did drive off and kill me, Alex would help the police get a good start on him. And Pedro would be there with me in my final moments. Unless Pedro was somehow an accomplice in an elaborate scheme.....I had to tell the mother in my head (God bless her) to quiet down once again.

I have no idea what the security guard thought as we drove onto the ferry. As I handed him our passports from the passenger seat, I told him that "We are family, returning from holiday." He told us to have a nice trip.

Like most people you initially peg as murderers, Solomon is an incredibly kind, caring man. You can't be too cautious, especially in a foreign country, but I feel guilty for ever doubting Solomon. He was born in Lebanon and now sells cars in London. He was on his way from Lebanon to Miami 17 years ago, when a cute woman at customs in London told him that London was more fun than Miami, and he should try it. Never wanting to displease a cute woman, he said yes. Now married (unfortunately not to the customs agent), he likes London, but loves Lebanon, where people have more freedom and "are not being video-taped all day." His kids feel the same way. "In London they can't even walk across the street to the park because of the laws and bad people. When we are in Lebanon, they wake up at 5am because they are excited about being outside all day, playing with the other kids."

He was returning from a visit to a friend in Aachen, Germany when I met him. I chuckled and told him that I had been in Aachen about 11 hours earlier that day. "Ah! Too bad. I could give you ride from Aachen!"

Pedro explained that his family was flying into London very late that night, and Pedro was going to take the train from London to the airport to meet them there, since his parents spoke absolutely no English. Solomon insisted that he would drive Pedro to the airport after taking me to Alex's house. Solomon was now entering sainthood territory.

On the ferry, he also told me and Pedro that he always drives the best cars that he is trying to sell, so he can usually "get them up to about 150." I laughed, doing a quick kilometers to miles conversion. "But that's miles per hour," he said. I guess he saw the look on my face because he roared with laughter and said, "Uh oh, now Richard wants to find a different car. My friend Richard, I will not go this fast for you. Also, I have this Nissan, it's not so fast."

Finally on the highway after the ferry crossing, Solomon insisted that we not pay for gas. He was adament about sharing his beverages, chewing gum, and cigarettes in the car. I don't know if he got up to 150, but we pushed the limits of safety and arrived in London about 2:30 AM.

Solomon, Pedro, and I didn't exchange information as I left. We knew that we'd never see each other again and part of me didn't want to ruin the evening by asking all of us to pose for some silly photo.

The two of them waited for Alex to let me into his apartment, then they drove off.