The kindness of strangers: 17 times travel restored your faith in humanity

Our feature on the acts of kindness experienced on our travels prompted a lot of responses, some of which are published here. 

Pilgrim’s progress

To walk from Pershore, Worcestershire, to Rome, to follow in the steps of countless pilgrims... well, that is a special blessing. I had announced before setting off in 2010 the intention of “knocking on doors” in the hope of being offered accommodation. 

When I tried a door in Conches-en-Ouche, Normandy, a large woman immediately berated me for trespassing. To then ask for a bed for the night did not seem very hopeful but, in my best schoolboy French I had a go. 

About 20 minutes later I found myself sitting at a full dinner table with a glass of champagne singing “Happy Birthday” to Michel. Fate had decreed that I was to join a family celebrating the birthday of the woman’s husband, a rocket engineer with the Ariane European Space programme. 

After a sumptuous meal the men retired to watch the final of the Six Nations rugby tournament, England v France. When France won in the last few moments, relieved, I retired to bed.

Chris O’Grady

The world's kindest country

Travelling around Myanmar [Burma] some years ago, my wife and I experienced numerous acts of kindness. The kind chap in Yangon (Rangoon) who went out of his way to take us to the railway station and helped us buy our ticket for the express to Mandalay. The helpful young woman who went further than her stop on the city bus to make sure we got off at the right stop for our temple visit. Then there was the delightful couple on the train to Mandalay who insisted we share their chicken biryani – boy, was it tasty! Of course, none of these kind strangers would take anything in return. But the most touching of all was the old wizened rickshaw driver who pedalled us halfway across Mandalay for an agreed sum and when I tried to give him a little extra would have none of it. We had agreed a price and that was that. Wherever we went in the country, we were met with pure acts of kindness - simply second nature to the Burmese. 

Martin Nuttall 

Myanmar really is the world's kindest country

Billed as "the world's leading study of generosity", the World Giving Index rates 140 countries in three categories: helping a stranger, donating money, and volunteering time. 

Myanmar pips Indonesia and Kenya to the top spot. According to the research, 91 per cent of Myanmar residents gave money to charity in the past year, 53 per cent said they had helped a stranger, and 51 per cent claimed they had volunteered. 

"The high scores are likely to be a result of Theravada Buddhism practiced by a large proportion of the population in Myanmar, whereby followers donate to support those living a monastic lifestyle – a practice known as Sangha Dana," the report states. 

Up the Greek

My wife and I have never forgotten our first holiday together in Rhodes. It was in the pre mobile phone era and we’d hired a couple of scooters to explore the island, equipped with a basic map and enough cash to last the day.

I remember riding over unmade hill roads to reach Macheria on the southern tip. Then we needed petrol to get home, but by the time we found a filling station, it was nearly dark. One of the scooters had no lights and the other’s engine started cutting out.

We reached a restaurant near Plimmiri with the idea of sleeping rough and returning on one scooter in the morning. The owners were having a family party. When they learned of our situation, they refused our money and insisted we joined the festivity. Their nephew gave us a bed in his house. In the morning, the local fire chief loaded our scooters onto his truck and drove us back to Lindos, where he remonstrated with the man who had rented us the scooters. 

Richard Davies

Take the low road

Our first visit to Crete 40 years ago, on a self-planned drive-tour in autumn. I had armed myself with a small dictionary and learnt the Greek alphabet.

Heading towards Sitia, we checked the map and drove down a lane enjoying the slow journey onto the very poor road we had joined.

But, coming towards us a flock of goats and their weathered shepherd. Drawing near he pointed to the ground over and over again, each time declaiming ‘Potami, Potami’. As the car stopped I reached for the dictionary, muttering the Greek alphabet over and over as I scrabbled through the rice-paper pages trying to remember the unfamiliar Greek characters. Then... Eureka!  ‘Potami’ meant ‘River’. Our bemused shepherd was telling us that we were driving along a dried-up river bed. No wonder it was bumpy.

Sheila Taylor

The friendly city

My husband and I undertook a road trip down through America. One of our first stops was Chicago. We were pretty unarmed with knowledge but we set out with our tour book and walked the streets. Surprisingly, it didn’t take long before we lost our bearings. Turning our map around in circles and looking confused at road signs, I don’t think we could have looked more like tourists had we had a giant sign above our head saying so. 

We were then taken aback by a random local who, having seen our predicament, stopped to ask if he could help! We told him where we were going and with his very simple directions we were able to find our location. 

It was a lovely simple gesture by someone who could have easily walked past us and carried on with his day. Hats off to ‘friendly Chicago’ as it’ll be forever known! 

Katie Webb

The flying doctor

They can hold more in their beaks than their belly can! Marvelling smugly we had escaped a UK January and our gap year had begun. The pelicans diving into the shimmering breathtakingly beautiful Brewers Bay. Gentle waves, sand between toes, enjoying the moment!

Arriving the previous night on Tortola with no accommodation a stranger lent us a tent, another gifted a coconut. Shelter and nourishment: two acts of kindness. Blissfully unaware the most significant was yet to be delivered we satisfyingly smashed the coconut and my companion thrust his trusty Swiss Army knife into the succulent white flesh we watched horrified as the milky white liquid turned pink. A cry of pain alerted a young man announcing himself as a Canadian medic. With skill and precision he carefully removed the knife, stemmed the bleeding, cleaned and sealed the deep wound with salt water, strips of T-shirt and pressure before hurriedly leaving for a plane.

Forty years on a scar marks our gratitude. We hope you caught the plane!

Rachel Richards

The happy Canary

Just back from 10 days of walking on volcanic La Palma and fortunate recipient of many acts of kindness. First, my teenage daughter who not only agreed to a hiking holiday, but also carried our heavy, joint, day-pack. Day one, a young couple renting the flat below ours arrived at our door with fruit, vegetables and local honey. A few days later, I overheated during an all-day hike, and just about managed to get off the track and onto a road. A women passing noticed I wasn’t well, and walked two kilometres back home, got her car, collected me from the roadside and drove us to a very distant cafe to recover. A few days later, after six hours tackling the hot dusty volcano gorge, three local young people offered us a lift to the bus station. Then the artisan ice-cream maker let us taste before buying... Finally, thank you to the bread-shop lady who very kindly listened daily to me order in very basic Spanish without making me feel a fool.

Debra Shipley

The final hurdle

Last summer, I was travelling back from working abroad. At 19, It had been my first time travelling completely alone. It had been an amazing but exhausting experience. I had taken buses, trains and a flight and was finally on the Tube heading home. I was dragging around an ancient, heavy suitcase containing a month’s worth of dirty clothes and my arms were dying. I got off the tube at my stop and lugged my suitcase up several flights of stairs and along seemingly never-ending corridors. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself for managing the heavy weight until I turned the last corner. In front of me was another massive flight of stairs, It was too much. I started to rant incoherently and embarrassingly aloud. When suddenly a girl of a similar age offered to help me. Between us we hauled the suitcase up the final flight of stairs. That simple act of kindness rallied me and allowed me to finish what had been an amazing experience on a high.

Zoe Shipley 

Give me shelter

We’d been incredibly lucky with the weather so far but standing at the bus stop outside the Moderne Museet in Stockholm our luck ran out. The heavens opened and we were about to get drenched. To make matters worse there was no sign of the usually punctual bus and I was looking anxiously at my watch.

My daughter and I had snatched a much needed break together and were now heading back to the airport after a last-minute visit to the superb modern art gallery.

Then simultaneously two women also waiting for the bus stepped to either side of us, umbrellas aloft to shelter us from the downpour.

By the time the bus arrived we were chatting happily with our rescuers, a smartly dressed Swedish pensioner and a smiling Korean tourist, about the art gallery, Stockholm and the vagaries of public transport the world over.

As we headed to the airport, our spirits uplifted, I reflected on how this small act of kindness summed up all that is good about travelling.

Elizabeth Allison 

Above and beyond

A broken down camper in the town of Kayserberg, France, two ladies in distress. From a garage in the town came our heroes. Father and son. Our lovely Classic VW Camper was driven away by the son with all our possessions, including passport and money in the blink of an eye. Monsieur then took us to a nice hotel. During the silent journey our thoughts were in turmoil. Not to worry. On arrival at the hotel the receptionist, after a conversation with monsieur, was able to explain that he had been concerned that there would be no room at the busy hotel. She said once we were booked in he would take us to his garage to collect anything we needed from the camper as the repair would take four days. A new part had to be obtained. Four days later the camper, restored to good health and at a reasonable cost, monsieur offered to collect our hire car from the hotel and return it to Colmar some 11 kms away. Friendly service above and beyond. 

Cherryl Gore

We should be kind on holiday, too | The kindness of strangers

Sole custody

In February, 2005 my wife and I had completed an accompanied tour of Morocco and were spending our last night in our hotel in Marrakesh. I confirmed with the hotel reception that they would clean my travel-weary shoes and left them outside my hotel room on retiring for the night. Next morning, there was no sign of the shoes and on making enquiries, was told that the porter who picked them up thought that they had been thrown away, and had taken them for himself! Furthermore, he would not be in to work that day.

We were extending our holiday by a few days, travelling independently, and had booked a taxi to take us to our next hotel, which was on the route to Taroudant, and over two hours by car from Marrakesh. As the taxi was now due, I therefore wrote off the return of the shoes, and we proceeded to our destination. At breakfast next day, however, our new hotel manager came to our table to say that there was a man at reception asking for me.   Somewhat puzzled, I found my visitor to be carrying a parcel which, on opening, contained my pair of newly polished shoes.

Profuse in his apologies, the messenger, who spoke no English, would accept nothing for my gratitude for his returning the shoes, involving a round trip of some 4-5 hours.

Reg Smart

From Russia with love

Ivan, from Belarus, introduced himself in the queue for tickets. He declared that he would give us a tour of Pskov and help us find a bed for the night. The bed and breakfast turned out to be an old people’s home. The local matron provided us with steaming cups of tea and stuffed our sodden shoes with paper. She was given strict instructions to wake us at 3am so we could make our way to the station. There was no charge for our night’s stay. We boarded the night train to Tallinn and found ourselves sharing a carriage with a family who insisted on sharing their food with us. On arrival, their son escorted us to the centre of the city. He asked a passer by did they know of a nearby hotel? We accompanied her to her office whereupon she asked somebody to drive us to one within our price range! Amazing hospitality.

Delyth Preston

Spanish phew

We were driving to Salamanca when we decided to stop at a roadside cafe for lunch. Pete took his man-bag containing passports, camera and iPad with him. When we checked in at the hotel we discovered the bag was missing. The hotel were very helpful locating the cafe we stopped at and rang them to ask if our bag was there.  No! Several miserable hours passed while we contemplated driving to Madrid the next day, a trip of three hours, to visit the British consulate.

After supper Pete noticed lots of missed phone calls from his sister on his mobile, who was on her boat in the Lake District, UK. A Spanish lady had found our bag, looked at the passports and the contacts page on the iPad and phoned Pete’s sister. We then rang this kind lady and arranged to meet the next day for its return. We were so grateful to the Spanish lady for her perseverance getting our property back to us, especially the passports.

Janet Walsh

Hey Judy

While travelling around America on the Greyhound I stopped in Crystal River, Florida, to see manatees. Dropping off on the main road through town, I used the phone box at a nearby petrol station to call local motels, trying to find somewhere my backpacker budget could afford. Running out of change I went to the kiosk for more and asked about local accommodation. A lady in the queue suggested some places and I trundled back out to the phone box.  The same lady then walked over and offered me a lift to check out some of the motels; it wasn’t long before Judy offered to put me up for a few nights. That evening Judy invited me along to her nail technician course graduation party. Everyone welcomed me and I enjoyed an unexpected slice of American life, and a few too many cream puffs.  When I said goodbye to Judy, she packed me off with a picnic lunch. Seeing the manatees was a great experience, but it’s Judy’s kindness that I remember the most.

Louisa Hall

Dutch delight 

Arriving late at Schiphol on a rainy February night, my wife and I were looking forward to seeing as much of Amsterdam as possible in a weekend. Unfortunately, after getting on board the wrong bus for our hotel, we saw a lot of the dull, outlying suburbs before realising our mistake.

As we pored over a little tourist map and scratched our heads, a commuter on the bus took pity on us and, in perfect English, asked if we were lost. He listened patiently as we explained our predicament but we despaired when he said our hotel was in completely the opposite direction. “Okay, we’d better get off and go back to the airport,” we said.

“Absolutely not,” he said, before insisting we accompany him to his home where he would get his car and drive us to the hotel. Half an hour later, we were shaking off the rain in our hotel bar and counting our blessings that we’d met such a kind local. As it turned out, he was typical of this wonderfully hospitable nation.

Martin Wells

Rail hospitality

Heading to Vienna by train, we were three weeks into our Interrail trip. For both of us this was a first independent venture into Europe. To avoid arriving late and un-booked in the capital, we disembarked at Bruck an der Mur. Our tired eyes and feet, the exploratory tools of that era, led us wearily. But everything was closed. At that time, in young minds, Europe still had ghosts.

Unexpectedly, a small and smiling lady in her 70s accosted us. “Can I help?” She understood our dilemma and we followed at her behest. We were soon in the back door of a welcoming gasthof, whose owner she clearly knew. After insisting beers upon us, she soon departed. We got her name and later wrote thanks - she had paid half our bill, we discovered while rushing for our train next day. We haven’t forgotten, and suspect others will remember her, and the reasons we united.

John Gration

Karma in the bush

In the distance, an overturned lorry blocked our path. The driver took our offer of food and water, but declined a lift.

Hours later, we were under our vehicle, tying the exhaust up with a rope. A few miles later, it would fall down again. It was going to be a long night in the African bush.

Then we heard voices; women appeared out of the darkness, disappeared and returned with menfolk. Without tools, they were unable to remove the exhaust. Suddenly, out of the blackness, a voice called: “Do you need help?” A logging lorry rumbled up, the owner instructed his men to take off the exhaust. He inquired whether we were the women who had stopped for the driver with the overturned lorry and said he believed in Karma. The following day, our rescuer delivered the exhaust to the town’s chief and garage owner.

Ceri Williams