One of my friends and compatriots bought a relatively new bicycle, paying through his nose, soon after he reached Ferrara. He would ride up to the bus stop, leave the bike there and board the 9 O’ clock bus to work. Three days into the new routine he came back in the evening and his bike was nowhere to be seen. The next morning, it reappeared in the same parking lot, secure in a brand new lock.
As luck had it, that day he picked up a conversation with the bus driver in faltering Italian and English. “Are you sure it is your bike?” he asked, “wait for me in the evening, we will find a way.” So as the evening grew dark, the duo returned to the spot where the bicycle was. "Perhaps he will help me explain the problem to the police”, thought my friend. Even before the thought was over the bus driver, with the skill of a seasoned thief, had broken the lock and the bicycle was returned to its rightful owner.