since i first began as a student, and with the turning-point europe tour in the summer of 1985 where i caught the travel bug, hitch-hiking has become a way of life. then the motivation was a lack of money and a desire to meet people. the reasons are still valid now. whole books i could write about my hitch-hike adventures over the years in many diverse countries. suffice to say for the moment that if it wasn't for a train breaking down in falmer and the later purchase of two hitch-hiking books by simon calder and ken walsh, i could easily have drifted into being another cog in the wheel of a materialistic capitalist society!
i stood at the main road into and out of cadaques at the edge of town and extended my thumb, trying not to feel a little resentment at the closed mentality of the tourists passing by fast in their cars. 30 minutes and a french couple of son and mother stop to take me as far as rosas. a chance to pick up some hitch-hiking food of biscuits and peanuts before waiting 10 minutes or so for a lift with a young spanish couple living in barcelona. they took me to the figueres bypass road. and another 20 minutes before i get a lift as far as la jonquera, the spanish border town. lots of french and other tourists here stocking up on the relatively cheap cigarettes and alcohol. antonio and his moldovan passengers dropped me off at one of the petrol stations lining the main road, but i had no luck asking here. so i tried at the roundabout just up the way, and here the traffic was going slow enough to be able to ask through the open windows of some likely contenders. wasn't long before i spot some english plates rolling up and stooping low, i ask: "driving to france?" "yes". "any chance of a lift?". "yeah, why not." tom and barbara were an elderly english couple living in north wales, holidaying in this part of the world. they were driving back to where they were based in canet-en-rousillon, on the coast by perpignan. happy to be chatting again in english with a right-on couple. they offered me a bed for the night but i thanked them and said i had to be pushing on, it was a long way to prague. they kindly drove me out of their way to the other side of perpignan on the road out to narbonne, from where i stood on the fast dual carriageway. luckily, i only had to endure this for 15 minutes before a small car pulls over across the slip road and over to the narrow hard shoulder. the two young moroccan lads took me to narbonne, they weren't very talkative, probably cos they realised that my french was not so hot. my mind was now so accustomed to speaking spanish that trying to bring back my better french was proving to be a challenge. better to keep quiet and enjoy the countryside views. i had to walk into and out again in narbonne to get to the motorway junction at narbonne east. on the way, i met two lithuanian backpackers, also hitching but to narbonne beach. it seems that of all the hitchers that i see these days, and that's not many, most come from eastern europe.
at the toll station, i stood and stuck out my thumb. it would have been good to have a sign, but i reasoned that it was very easy for the drivers to pull up after they collected their toll-ticket and ask where i wanted to go. and about 20 of them did, but they were all going in the other direction! finally i got someone going to beziers. eric took me as far the services on the motorway, as these are normally much better than the junctions to hitch from. here i took the opportunity to sit at a picnic table and eat the pasta meal i had made at juan's before i left. i had just finished and brushed my teeth when a guy comes over to where i was sitting. he had driven in and was having a food break too, and i asked if he was going to montpellier. and did he have room for one more? it turned out marc was driving as far as lyon. he was living in biarittz, and his roots were from the "european indians", the basque people. my french was coming back enough for us to hold a decent conversation. he told me the history of the basque, their land, and their language... that it was one of the five oldest language groups, predating latin and ancient greek. and that they were also connections with another ancient language group, sanskrit. it was all very interesting stuff. i asked to be dropped off at rambert d'albon services, the last before lyon.
lyon looks like hitcher's hell. it's a prejudice i hold. i've never been to lyon, i've only ever seen it from the window of a car or truck going along the motorway du soleil. and many times on a map when i was figuring out how to get around it. a while ago, a new autoroute bypassed lyon to the east to link up with the motorway going to germany. i remember one occasion when i didn't take this into account and carried on hitching up the autoroute du soleil to beaune services, and getting stuck there trying to connect to the motorway going east. in the end i had to take a lift to the next exit, walk about 5kms and hitch 30kms or so.... a long wait but one in which the driver took pity on me and drove out of his way to find the services by the small country roads... and jumping the fence, i got into the services. and met corinne, who drove me to as far nurnberg... and later became a girlfriend... another story.
back at rambert d'albon, i looked around for a place to kip. under some trees. a restless sleep, a light drizzle got me to change place to shelter more under the trees, and then drizzle turned to full-on rain, and so i moved again, to the handicapped toilets to keep dry. at six, still bleary-eyed from not much sleep, i ventured out to start the day's hitching. i was hanging out near the shop entrance asking almost everyone if they were going in the direction of bourg-en-bresse. and everyone said not at all. three hours. i was seriously thinking about putting plan b into operation. the one about getting out at the exit at beaune etc. then i spot the spanish plates, and a young guy walking up to pay at the shop for the petrol. "hola, buenas dias", i started. and asked if he was going north. i had my map at the ready and he started to point at lyon, then besancon, mulhouse, germany.... "hablas espagnol?", he asked. "bueno, mas o menos", i replied. "where do you want to go?" "to germany", i said. "me too", he replied. "perfect, do you have room?" "yes, i just get something to eat". "perfect". lucky me. douglas, 26 year-old columbian tight-rope artist working in a circus in mataro, spain. back to speaking in spanish, douglas finally confided in me a problem he was mulling over for a while. "as i don't know you so well, i can confide in you and ask for your help and advice", he said. "if i'm able", i replied. and so he related to me the predicament he found himself in. he was driving to germany to pick up his daughter, 7, and son, 4, from the mother, a cuban woman now living in berlin. he had himself lived there with them before he had split up with her a couple of months ago, and this was an opportunity to pick up his kids in baden baden and take them back to barcelona for a week. during these 2 months, she had gone back to cuba and got into a relationship with an italian guy. not so bad, as he had himself got into another relationship with a columbian girl in barcelona, who was now pregnant with his child. he still had strong feelings for the mother of his children, but his family was also in favour of his relationship with the columbian girl. should he break off the relationship with the cubana for good? and continue with the columbiana, who wanted to have his child, whom he had only known for 2 months? "no se, tio", i replied. "i don't know, it's complicated alright, but if you have already broken up with the cubana, you should not then want to go back with her." he agreed, but his heart still had feelings for her. and also for his new love. love does not listen to reason. we sat listening to the latin songs, and i drummed along to some. he was driving quite fast through the rain that seemed to have accompanied us all through france. and he also had not much sleep, having left barcelona at 3 in the morning with a break to sleep for an hour or so. finally we made it to germany and past freiburg to the services before baden-baden. i thanked him a lot and gave some parting words of advice: "listen to your heart". but now, on reflection, it sounds like bad advice because, from experience, i have learnt that even feelings of love can lie.
i walked over to where the trucks were parked up and spotted the czech plates. and right on cue, the pigs were cruising alongside before stopping a bit ahead. they got out and asked for my passport and radioed it in. the other looked at my drum... "you play music?" "yes yes, i'm a musician, visiting friends, i'm going to prague..." all very friendly and correct and 2 minutes later they returned my passport and wished me a good trip. the truckers were still asleep and i went to the pumps and waited there. and lo and behold, another cop car, this time with blue markings, comes to a stop in front of me. as they got out, i told them that their colleagues had just controlled me, not 2 minutes before. he didn't know about it, he said, in good english. what, you don't keep in touch over the police radio? they were different police, they said, the green markings were federal pigs and the blue were local pigs. so you still want to see my passport? yes. i gave it to one of them and he radioed it in. "wilkommen nach deutchland", i said to the one waiting with me, and he laughed. at least he could see the funny side of it too. "unglaublich", i continued, and he seemed to shrug apologetically. i got my passport back, it was all very polite and correct, and they wished me a good trip. i took another tour of the parking, changed my sandals for boots, the first time this trip, and went back to the pumps. and i couldn't believe my eyes when i see a green police jeep come to a stop alongside me. i started to laugh as they got out. "sorry for laughing", i said, "but you are the third set of police to control me in 10 minutes". "really", one of them said. and started to excuse it by saying the border areas are well patrolled etc etc, and still i had to show my passport again. he took it and radioed it in, and i chatted with the other one in english. just then, i spot a car with czech plates at the pumps and i asked if it was ok if i talked to the driver about a lift, seeing as i wanted to get to prague. "yes, no problem". " i'll just be a minute", i said, and went to ask the driver. today was definitely my lucky day! yes, he was going to czech republic, yes he was going to prague, and yes, he had room for me. "the police are just controlling my passport", i said, "i'll just be a minute". i went back to the where the pig was and told him of my good news. the other was taking ages to radio my details, but finally he got out of the jeep and handed my passport back. he took a look at my pack and asked, "anything to declare?". "no, nothing, i don't drink or smoke". "no knives or pepper spray", he went on. "no, not at all". "ok, have a good trip". all very polite and correct and serious in their very important job of hassling hitch-hikers. i took my pack and drum and started for the car, but the driver pointed to the parking area. and he pulled in next to the pigs. i put my pack in the boot and got in the front and the big peugeot 607 rolled out onto the motorway. jan was czech but i had forgotten all my czech since i lived there a couple of years ago. but we found a lingua franca... french. jan was an engineer, before he worked for renault, that's why the french. he was driving back to prague after dropping off a motor part for a rally car in annecy in france. "practically, i haven't slept at all", he said. "yeah, just like me!". oh no, i thought, no chance of me grabbing a quick nap... have to make sure old jan doesn't grab one himself whilst he's driving! and he was driving very fast along these speedy german autobahns. "wilkommen nach deutchland", i thought to myself. i could see that he could control the car very well, and that the car could handle the speeds of up to 210kph... but his leg was going into spasms now and then and twitching uncontrollably... sure sign of not enough sleep. we stopped off now and then and he treated me to soup and many coffees... we were both wired on this stuff to stop the micro-sleeps... (i once fell asleep at the wheel for a second or two in sweden with eight sleeping passengers and a trailer full of stuff... it was my lucky day too that day!) we went through the entire cd collection and i was drumming as much as i could in accompaniment... and counting down the kms to prague. we were making good time, not surprising really because the traffic was light and the speed was high. finally, jan dropped me off at zličin metro on the outskirts of prague. "thank you very much", i said in czech. "and thank you", he said, "if you weren't with me, i may have fallen asleep and who knows..." i found a young couple and asked to use their phone, and within an hour, helena came to pick me up and take me to her place in branik.
i stood at the main road into and out of cadaques at the edge of town and extended my thumb, trying not to feel a little resentment at the closed mentality of the tourists passing by fast in their cars. 30 minutes and a french couple of son and mother stop to take me as far as rosas. a chance to pick up some hitch-hiking food of biscuits and peanuts before waiting 10 minutes or so for a lift with a young spanish couple living in barcelona. they took me to the figueres bypass road. and another 20 minutes before i get a lift as far as la jonquera, the spanish border town. lots of french and other tourists here stocking up on the relatively cheap cigarettes and alcohol. antonio and his moldovan passengers dropped me off at one of the petrol stations lining the main road, but i had no luck asking here. so i tried at the roundabout just up the way, and here the traffic was going slow enough to be able to ask through the open windows of some likely contenders. wasn't long before i spot some english plates rolling up and stooping low, i ask: "driving to france?" "yes". "any chance of a lift?". "yeah, why not." tom and barbara were an elderly english couple living in north wales, holidaying in this part of the world. they were driving back to where they were based in canet-en-rousillon, on the coast by perpignan. happy to be chatting again in english with a right-on couple. they offered me a bed for the night but i thanked them and said i had to be pushing on, it was a long way to prague. they kindly drove me out of their way to the other side of perpignan on the road out to narbonne, from where i stood on the fast dual carriageway. luckily, i only had to endure this for 15 minutes before a small car pulls over across the slip road and over to the narrow hard shoulder. the two young moroccan lads took me to narbonne, they weren't very talkative, probably cos they realised that my french was not so hot. my mind was now so accustomed to speaking spanish that trying to bring back my better french was proving to be a challenge. better to keep quiet and enjoy the countryside views. i had to walk into and out again in narbonne to get to the motorway junction at narbonne east. on the way, i met two lithuanian backpackers, also hitching but to narbonne beach. it seems that of all the hitchers that i see these days, and that's not many, most come from eastern europe.
at the toll station, i stood and stuck out my thumb. it would have been good to have a sign, but i reasoned that it was very easy for the drivers to pull up after they collected their toll-ticket and ask where i wanted to go. and about 20 of them did, but they were all going in the other direction! finally i got someone going to beziers. eric took me as far the services on the motorway, as these are normally much better than the junctions to hitch from. here i took the opportunity to sit at a picnic table and eat the pasta meal i had made at juan's before i left. i had just finished and brushed my teeth when a guy comes over to where i was sitting. he had driven in and was having a food break too, and i asked if he was going to montpellier. and did he have room for one more? it turned out marc was driving as far as lyon. he was living in biarittz, and his roots were from the "european indians", the basque people. my french was coming back enough for us to hold a decent conversation. he told me the history of the basque, their land, and their language... that it was one of the five oldest language groups, predating latin and ancient greek. and that they were also connections with another ancient language group, sanskrit. it was all very interesting stuff. i asked to be dropped off at rambert d'albon services, the last before lyon.
lyon looks like hitcher's hell. it's a prejudice i hold. i've never been to lyon, i've only ever seen it from the window of a car or truck going along the motorway du soleil. and many times on a map when i was figuring out how to get around it. a while ago, a new autoroute bypassed lyon to the east to link up with the motorway going to germany. i remember one occasion when i didn't take this into account and carried on hitching up the autoroute du soleil to beaune services, and getting stuck there trying to connect to the motorway going east. in the end i had to take a lift to the next exit, walk about 5kms and hitch 30kms or so.... a long wait but one in which the driver took pity on me and drove out of his way to find the services by the small country roads... and jumping the fence, i got into the services. and met corinne, who drove me to as far nurnberg... and later became a girlfriend... another story.
back at rambert d'albon, i looked around for a place to kip. under some trees. a restless sleep, a light drizzle got me to change place to shelter more under the trees, and then drizzle turned to full-on rain, and so i moved again, to the handicapped toilets to keep dry. at six, still bleary-eyed from not much sleep, i ventured out to start the day's hitching. i was hanging out near the shop entrance asking almost everyone if they were going in the direction of bourg-en-bresse. and everyone said not at all. three hours. i was seriously thinking about putting plan b into operation. the one about getting out at the exit at beaune etc. then i spot the spanish plates, and a young guy walking up to pay at the shop for the petrol. "hola, buenas dias", i started. and asked if he was going north. i had my map at the ready and he started to point at lyon, then besancon, mulhouse, germany.... "hablas espagnol?", he asked. "bueno, mas o menos", i replied. "where do you want to go?" "to germany", i said. "me too", he replied. "perfect, do you have room?" "yes, i just get something to eat". "perfect". lucky me. douglas, 26 year-old columbian tight-rope artist working in a circus in mataro, spain. back to speaking in spanish, douglas finally confided in me a problem he was mulling over for a while. "as i don't know you so well, i can confide in you and ask for your help and advice", he said. "if i'm able", i replied. and so he related to me the predicament he found himself in. he was driving to germany to pick up his daughter, 7, and son, 4, from the mother, a cuban woman now living in berlin. he had himself lived there with them before he had split up with her a couple of months ago, and this was an opportunity to pick up his kids in baden baden and take them back to barcelona for a week. during these 2 months, she had gone back to cuba and got into a relationship with an italian guy. not so bad, as he had himself got into another relationship with a columbian girl in barcelona, who was now pregnant with his child. he still had strong feelings for the mother of his children, but his family was also in favour of his relationship with the columbian girl. should he break off the relationship with the cubana for good? and continue with the columbiana, who wanted to have his child, whom he had only known for 2 months? "no se, tio", i replied. "i don't know, it's complicated alright, but if you have already broken up with the cubana, you should not then want to go back with her." he agreed, but his heart still had feelings for her. and also for his new love. love does not listen to reason. we sat listening to the latin songs, and i drummed along to some. he was driving quite fast through the rain that seemed to have accompanied us all through france. and he also had not much sleep, having left barcelona at 3 in the morning with a break to sleep for an hour or so. finally we made it to germany and past freiburg to the services before baden-baden. i thanked him a lot and gave some parting words of advice: "listen to your heart". but now, on reflection, it sounds like bad advice because, from experience, i have learnt that even feelings of love can lie.
i walked over to where the trucks were parked up and spotted the czech plates. and right on cue, the pigs were cruising alongside before stopping a bit ahead. they got out and asked for my passport and radioed it in. the other looked at my drum... "you play music?" "yes yes, i'm a musician, visiting friends, i'm going to prague..." all very friendly and correct and 2 minutes later they returned my passport and wished me a good trip. the truckers were still asleep and i went to the pumps and waited there. and lo and behold, another cop car, this time with blue markings, comes to a stop in front of me. as they got out, i told them that their colleagues had just controlled me, not 2 minutes before. he didn't know about it, he said, in good english. what, you don't keep in touch over the police radio? they were different police, they said, the green markings were federal pigs and the blue were local pigs. so you still want to see my passport? yes. i gave it to one of them and he radioed it in. "wilkommen nach deutchland", i said to the one waiting with me, and he laughed. at least he could see the funny side of it too. "unglaublich", i continued, and he seemed to shrug apologetically. i got my passport back, it was all very polite and correct, and they wished me a good trip. i took another tour of the parking, changed my sandals for boots, the first time this trip, and went back to the pumps. and i couldn't believe my eyes when i see a green police jeep come to a stop alongside me. i started to laugh as they got out. "sorry for laughing", i said, "but you are the third set of police to control me in 10 minutes". "really", one of them said. and started to excuse it by saying the border areas are well patrolled etc etc, and still i had to show my passport again. he took it and radioed it in, and i chatted with the other one in english. just then, i spot a car with czech plates at the pumps and i asked if it was ok if i talked to the driver about a lift, seeing as i wanted to get to prague. "yes, no problem". " i'll just be a minute", i said, and went to ask the driver. today was definitely my lucky day! yes, he was going to czech republic, yes he was going to prague, and yes, he had room for me. "the police are just controlling my passport", i said, "i'll just be a minute". i went back to the where the pig was and told him of my good news. the other was taking ages to radio my details, but finally he got out of the jeep and handed my passport back. he took a look at my pack and asked, "anything to declare?". "no, nothing, i don't drink or smoke". "no knives or pepper spray", he went on. "no, not at all". "ok, have a good trip". all very polite and correct and serious in their very important job of hassling hitch-hikers. i took my pack and drum and started for the car, but the driver pointed to the parking area. and he pulled in next to the pigs. i put my pack in the boot and got in the front and the big peugeot 607 rolled out onto the motorway. jan was czech but i had forgotten all my czech since i lived there a couple of years ago. but we found a lingua franca... french. jan was an engineer, before he worked for renault, that's why the french. he was driving back to prague after dropping off a motor part for a rally car in annecy in france. "practically, i haven't slept at all", he said. "yeah, just like me!". oh no, i thought, no chance of me grabbing a quick nap... have to make sure old jan doesn't grab one himself whilst he's driving! and he was driving very fast along these speedy german autobahns. "wilkommen nach deutchland", i thought to myself. i could see that he could control the car very well, and that the car could handle the speeds of up to 210kph... but his leg was going into spasms now and then and twitching uncontrollably... sure sign of not enough sleep. we stopped off now and then and he treated me to soup and many coffees... we were both wired on this stuff to stop the micro-sleeps... (i once fell asleep at the wheel for a second or two in sweden with eight sleeping passengers and a trailer full of stuff... it was my lucky day too that day!) we went through the entire cd collection and i was drumming as much as i could in accompaniment... and counting down the kms to prague. we were making good time, not surprising really because the traffic was light and the speed was high. finally, jan dropped me off at zličin metro on the outskirts of prague. "thank you very much", i said in czech. "and thank you", he said, "if you weren't with me, i may have fallen asleep and who knows..." i found a young couple and asked to use their phone, and within an hour, helena came to pick me up and take me to her place in branik.
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