Nine years ago, on this very bridge in Rome, I realized that a trip around the world would be possible as a woman traveling alone.
How? I was nineteen years old, it was eleven at night, and a psychotic Italian vagrant was trying to attack me on a bridge.
The summer after my Sophomore year in college was the first time I traveled abroad alone. I had searched the internet and found a fantastic job exchange in London through the Winant-Clayton Volunteers. It involved five weeks in a a social work placement, followed by two weeks of independent travel.
For thirty-five days, I lived in London with Colombian-American Milady in the spare room of a lovely house in Stoke Newington. Milady worked at an AIDS care center, translating between English and Spanish. I worked in a daycare with a shockingly high number of gargantuan babies, alongside a Bengali staff who taught me much about their culture. Milday and I ate tortillas and street kebabs to save our meager stipend for future travel.
Our volunteer service ended and our travel time began! I set off alone into Europe.
I realize now, so many characteristics of that two-week solo trip nine years ago were the same as this one: a ton of wandering and watching, various hilarious wrong turns, a combination of meeting up with friends and spending time alone, an obsession with food, and lots of happiness.
And so I found myself at the age of nineteen, wandering miles and miles through August-hot Rome, and settling for dinner on a pizzeria in the lovely Trastevere neighborhood of Rome, across the Tiber River from my hostel.
I got to chatting with an American woman and her French husband at the next table: Jean-Luc and Ann. Jean-Luc went to the bathroom and Ann leaned in close to me. “I’m really unhappy now,” she whispered urgently.
“Oh!” I gasped.
“I just can’t deal with French culture,” Ann continued, “and Jean-Luc doesn’t want to live anywhere but France. We’re just so different, and I miss my old life.”
“That stinks,” I sighed, nineteen and clueless. Ann continued venting until Jean-Luc came back to the table and we both plastered on innocent smiles.
Walking through the thick, hot darkness towards the river alone after dinner, I mused: sometimes it’s awfully nice to be alone. Solitude is pure freedom!
At that moment, I saw a shadow loom up on the other side of the bridge through the darkness. It was a ragged homeless man, and he grinned maniacally. He spread his arms and feet wide, planting himself firmly in the middle of the bridge. I looked around: no one else was in sight. It was awfully late.
I began walking across the bridge hugging the left side railing, hoping the deranged man would stay in the middle. No such luck! The man began shuffling his feet to the left of the bridge to block my path, arms still splayed outward like a basketball point guard. He began to cackle with glee. I stopped and walked backwards away from him.
Despite the scariness of the situation, I couldn’t help starting to giggle. This really was too ridiculous. The Italian vagrant threw his head back and guffawed with abandon as well. I slapped my hands over my mouth and stifled the chuckles. We must have stood there like that for ten minutes, laughing and staring at each other. I was quivering with fear.
Suddenly a voice cut the night. “Hey! Lillie, is that you?” It was the couple from the restaurant!
“Um,” I said, “I can’t get across. There’s a troll guarding the bridge.”
The couple glanced up sharply at the unsightly man in the center of the bridge. The man stared back, eyes blazing.
“Oh, come on,” said Jean-Luc, “This is just silly.”
The three of us strode through the gloom toward the man. “Grrrr…” the man growled, curling his fingers into claws and advancing.
We quickened our pace. We passed the center of the bridge just as the man reached us.
We began to run. The man snarled and ran after us, making “Booga booga!” noises. We reached the end of the bridge and the man pulled up short and turned back. We’d made it!
Ann and Jean-Luc insisted on walking me all the way back to my hostel. I thanked them profusely and we parted ways forever.
Lying in the lumpy dorm bed that night, I felt great. “We conquered the troll guarding the bridge!” I whispered.
We are told so often as women that we must be cautious, that we must look out for ghosts and goblins of the world. And yet on that night, on that bridge, I realized that the exhilaration of solo travel outweighs the danger, because even when you travel alone, you do not have to fight the bridge trolls of the world by yourself.
And here I am now, nine years later, at the same bridge. Today, I strode right across, unmolested, and bought a steaming hot pizza the colors of the Italian flag. And then I went back to the bridge and took a photo of myself atop it, victorious, while my hair did a triumphant dance in the wind.
What a great story! What happened with the couple? Did you stay in touch? Did they stay together? Love talking to people on my travels. Defenses are down and it’s so lovely to hear people’s stories from all over the world.
Thanks! I never saw them again… I wonder!
I have traveled alone and had a scary incident in Saumur, France with a crazy man following me in his car. I got help from people shopping in a bakery who drove me to the train station and then again from a man at a restaurant who drove me back to the train station which I left because I had to get something to eat and then I saw the same car parked nearby as I was leaving. Things do happen, but God provided help for me in my time of need. I have seen quite of bit of France by traveling on my own and wouldn’t trade the experience for anything!
Yikes! I’m glad you got out safe and that you were still able to have the travel experience of a lifetime!
I would love to travel alone some day. I think it is better when you travel alone because you don’t have to argue with someone else about which place you want to visit first. I think that the coliseum is beautiful.
That must have been really scary when the person tried to attack you in the middle of the night.
Wow this had to be scary it reminds me of a movie called “Taken”. His daughter travels with her friend and they get taken. Thats why we should never travel alone
I never traveled alone before. I would be scared if I had to travel alone to a new country or state for example Rome.
Ms.Marshall, was it hard traveling around some where you have never been to before? I think that being nineteen and having that been to Rome is amazing. I think you are very brave for doing such a thing, because I dont think I would ever do so.
It’s surprisingly easy and safe to travel alone, as long as you prepare and go about it smartly! What enabled me to get a base in Europe before traveling alone was I did a volunteer program in England for several weeks before to gain confidence and get my bearings.
Ms. Marshall, what a fright! I love to travel, but I would have beat up the man if I could! I would be scared though. I really love how you said your hair did a dance. Is the pizza you have there really good? I wish you could give me some! I’m glad you’re safe though and that the couple came at the right time. Thank goodness!
I would never travel alone because I would get scared. I think it is creepy some guy on a bridge tried to attack you.
I would never travel alone just because I would homesick and I would have nobody to talk to. If I was to travel I would go to Ireland because I have family there. So I guess I would not be alone but I would get homesick.
Rome looks like an awesome place to go to, with the epic Colosseum and bridges and stuff. AND THE FOOD!
“Are you craxy?!” was the thought that went through my head while you were on that bridge with the suspicious homeless guy. But, it was really funny too, and I’m glad you were’nt hurt!
This was a really well-put article and I enjoyed reading it, because it was real and totally connectable.
By the way, the food looks SOOOOOOO GOOD!
-Niti
I got kind of nervous for you after you said that there was a troll there. At least since you were there to talk to Ann, they later helped you cross the bridge. It’s good KARMA; what goes around comes around!
You survived the troll and lived to tell the tale! Thank you for sharing your story – isn’t it amazing to stand in the same spot from a long ago adventure, filled with years of perspective?
Yes, there is safety in numbers.
However, based on what I read above (and what I know of you so far), perhaps you could have taken him anyway.
Again, safety in numbers.
Adventurous Kate said…
HA! I loved this story. BOOGA BOOGA!
You’re lucky that you had them there to walk with you…this got me thinking about safety around the world. But things can happen ANYWHERE — two months ago, I was attacked and mugged literally in front of my apartment in Boston. Because I wasn’t smart, and was listening to my iPhone while walking back late at night. My guard was let down in Boston, but it wouldn’t be while traveling. That makes a huge difference.
Anyway, I used to live in Florence, sooooooo, before/when you get there, if you want any suggestions (ESPECIALLY FOOD!), hit me up on Twitter (@adventurouskate).
December 28, 2009 11:36 PM