Tram Magic

One of the beauties of not driving in Rome is the public transportation system. While that might sound incredibly facetious, I am in fact a big fan of this system. Mostly because it is almost entirely free to use (to the intrepid and attentive, if morally ambiguous passenger), but also because it is diverse and generally air conditioned.

This is not to say there are not flaws in the system. I imagine that the Roman Transportation Authority (ATAC, ironically) feels that all the free rides are a flaw, but for the normal traveller, these flaws are things like overcrowding, noise, and the fact that none of the buses seem to have any sort of suspension (and Rome is a city of cobbled streets). I can't say anything bad about the scheduling, because buses, trains, and trams tend to be pretty regular.

I happen to live near one of the tram lines, which I love, because it is usually faster and cooler than the bus, and because it is the fastest way to get to the center of town. It is also quiet, and free from the plague of cobblestones. Still, the tram has its own problems, which would never happen on a bus, such as too many trams at the capolinea, the turnaround point, or abrupt stops due to electrical short circuits.

Today, however, one of the doors on the tram would not close. No matter how many times the driver pressed the button, the doors stayed resolutely open, even after everyone on board had moved far away from them. The button pressing and anxious glares went on for about 3 minutes before someone decided to take matters into his own hands. A little old Italian man got up out of his seat with a great air of command and wisdom, and approached the misbehaving doorswith both hands in the air. The driver pressed the useless 'close' button once more, before geturing to the old man to go on with whatever he was doing. The man eyed the doors speculatively, looked them up and down, and with a great movement of his head, sneezed on them.

They closed immediately.