An Honest Mistake

A few days ago, I mentioned that my friends and I tooled around Budapest on the bus. What I didn’t mention is that we accidentally didn’t pay for it at first. In fact, we probably could have “forgotten” to pay for the bus in most of Europe this summer. This, I learned, is a continent that relies far too heavily on the integrity and honesty of its citizens. And let’s be honest: I’m a cynical North American who, while honest for the most part, is not above the lure of a free ride.

The public transportation system in Toronto, where I grew up, is known as the TTC. I became a regular passenger on the Red Rocket when I was a short 10-year-old and transferred from my local elementary school to one further away that offered a French Immersion program. The rules were simple: the front and middle doors opened and people flowed out onto the street, then only the front door would remain open so that the shivering masses could pile on, up the three stairs to the bus driver where we would drop our tickets, tokens, or cash into the box, and then move back toward an open space. Those rules were pretty much standard on most of the buses I have traveled on throughout North America.

Europe is a different beast all together. First, both sets of doors open and you can enter from either one. There isn’t anyone watching you drop your money into the box or ensuring that you stamp your ticket on one of the many self check-in machines located throughout the bus. That’s right -- Europe still believes in the honour system.

The first time Sconni Girl, Pequeña, and I rode the bus in Budapest, we did so without stamping our tickets because we sincerely didn’t realize that we were supposed to. We were waiting for someone to come take our tickets or instruct us in local bus etiquette. Of course, by the return trip, we had figured things out and simply enjoyed the inherent danger of getting caught during our “free ride.”

For the record: this system, which we found throughout the continent, was not exploited other than that one time. There were two reasons for this and the biggest is Hubby who is the most honest person I know. (He’s the guy who finds $100 on the street and gives it back to the obviously rich guy who dropped it.) The other reason is that the fine for getting caught is ridiculously high. (Ok, again, that was Hubby’s reason for paying – I was totally willing to take my chances. I am a bad, bad girl.)

While it is vaguely possible that I need to learn to be more honest, it is also true that depending upon the kindness of strangers is a dubious business plan. In an economy where major cities have to close public libraries and reduce public services, closing loopholes like this ought to be an obvious way to guarantee revenues. I can’t be the only person in Budapest to have calculated the cost/benefit analysis of paying a fine versus the number of times riding the bus for free without getting caught. Or am I?