A Group Of Good Samaritans I

It was about 4 o'clock in the morning. Fifteen minutes earlier, I had just said goodbye to Alex and reported myself to the receptionist of Baisan Hotel who had called me several times in my room but no response from me. He must have been wondering what a female Asian tourist like me could have been doing in this Arabian city in the middle of the night. I was smiling in my heart, thinking, "Don't worry, your colleague has just brought me out for a night visit in the city. He has been a good guide. Here I'm back safe and sound." I apologised, quickly took the lift back to my room, in which I had hardly spent 3 hours, took my bag, before going back to the reception for the check-out.

When I was dropped by the hotel shutter at Bahrain International Airport, only two counters were open for the check-in. As I had been given the boarding pass for Bahrain-Paris at (KLIA) Kuala Lumpur International Airport, I skipped the first procedure, simply presented the pass to the custom officer and headed to my gate.

It was too early for me to take breakfast and my stomach was still filled with the snack that Alex had shared with me at the park. And neither was I in the mood of idling in duty-free shops.

I was desperate for a seat to rest and record my unexpected stay in Manama city while my memory was still fresh, though a bit blurred at the same time due to lack of sleep. At the waiting lounge of the Gate 37, several passengers were already there. I supposed all of us were flying to the same country. With five and a half hours delay, I estimated our landing time would be around 1pm in Paris. My friends Toitots were not yet informed. I planed to seek help from a passenger to text them as soon as we landed in Paris later.

I took out my note book and started jotting down ideas for my blog entries before a group of Westerners came towards my seating, conversing in French. As I was seated in the middle of the row of those chairs, I pushed myself to the end, telling them in French to have my seat.

I was not paying attention to their conversation although their accent sounded familiar to me. At first, I heard them mentioning 'Lyon'. I thought they might originate from the second biggest city of France. Suddenly, I caught the word "Besançon" which distracted my writing. Besançon was not an important city in France. It was very unusual to hear its name in a Middle-East city.

Without much hesitation, I turned my head and asked the those sitting next to me on my right,

"Excuse me, are you from Besançon?"

"Yes."

I almost could not believe my ears.

"I'm going to Besançon. Can you please do me a favor?"

"Sure, but it depends on what you're going to ask."

"I told my friends in Besançon to wait for me at the railway station at around 1pm. But now with the delay of the flight, we'll have just reached Paris at 1pm. Would you mind sending them a message on my behalf as my mobile phone doesn't work."

"No problem." A lady quickly took out her mobile phone, ready to press on the buttons.

"There's no hurry to contact them from here now, but later when we reach the Charles-de-Gaulle Airport in Paris."

My first problem was solved.