*Term coined by David
I HITCHHIKED TO CROATIA! Many of you already know, but I had
signed up to do a charity hitchhike to Croatia with my friend David. Well, we
made it back unscathed two days ago (actually that’s not true, I have a few
bruises and cuts but that’s another story). Despite the fact that I felt
homeless every night, despite the hours we spent in the rain trying to get
rides, despite the bread and cheese that we ate for nearly every meal, it was
probably my favorite trip, ever. Wanna see why? Read on, my friends!
Day 1: “You’re not a couple of nutters, are you?”
After days of meticulous planning, er after one day of
running around gathering random crap we thought we might need, we were off! We
had looked up tips online about hitchhiking out of Edinburgh, and followed the
advice we found; we took a bus (£1.50) to a petrol station right outside of
town. When we arrived, we were greeted
by none other than two more hitchhikers from the same charity hitch we were
doing! Since they were hitching on the side of the road, we hit up the people in
the convenience store and at the gas pumps. A woman we approached
couldn’t give us a ride but gave us advice, offered us tea, and wished us well.
We were in high spirits already! By around 10am, we had gotten our first lift,
ever, from Old Couple, an adorable British husband and wife. They told us about
their grandkids and gave us mints.
| The old couple! |
They dropped us off at what we later realized was a luxury
service station, complete with a moat-like design and fresh, locally produced
sandwiches. After asking around, we got our next lift with Scottish Man, who
told us about his favorite places in Scotland to visit and his love for rugby.
Our third hitch of the day was with the epic Suit Guy. He was sporting sick
aviators and a full suit, and when we approached him for a ride, he responded
with “You’re not a couple of nutters, are you?” We immediately liked him. He
was British, but living in a small town in Pennsylvania not too far from me
with his wife, and on business for a week here. We argued about the benefits of
snowboarding versus skiing, and he told us about his side job as a radio DJ.
After he dropped us off, we had trouble getting another lift, and asked around
for maybe an hour or two. Then, when our spirits were at their lowest of the
day, we were saved by Hippie Couple! I think they were actually just friends,
and on their way to a gig in Holland. We were offered homemade vegan energy
truffles and licorice. The woman had hitchhiked her way through Europe, solo,
back in the day and gave us contact info for her friends living in cities along
the way to Croatia. I was fascinated that she hitched solo as a woman, and
picked her brain for tips on staying safe. They dropped us off at a service
station near Stanstead Airport outside of London.
Originally, we tried to get a ride right into London (Dave’s
girlfriend had offered to let us sleep in her flat) but when we realized no one
was going straight into London/no one was friendly enough to take us straight
into London, we accepted a ride (and a chocolate bar) from an Irish couple to
the airport and figured we could sleep there if necessary. Once there, we had another
stroke of good luck- we begged various bus services to take us to the center of
London for free and the last company we tried, EasyBus, finally agreed. Once in
London, we met up with Celeste, David’s girlfriend, and (barely) convinced a
bus driver to let us on for free after we explained that we were doing a
charity hitchhike. That night, we pigged out on cheesy bread, took showers, and
I emailed my family to let them know I was alive.
Day 2: On the fast track to Germany
We had looked up how to hitch out of London online, so we
followed those directions: paid about £5 for a train, then begged our way onto
a bus for free. The bus dropped us off about an hour outside of London where we
then proceeded to walk a few miles through farms and on tiny dirt roads to the
nearest service station. We got a ride with Kiwi Guy, a English native who
lived in New Zealand for a few years with his family. He brought us to the
infamous Maidstone Services, which was to become our gateway to mainland
Europe. After a lunch of meat and cheese wraps with various toppings smuggled
from nearby eateries, we got to work trying to find a ride. After maybe an
hour, we found the golden ticket: Holland Pharma Guy, who works in pharmaceuticals
and was driving through the Eurotunnel and could take us all the way to the
Netherlands! We drove through England, France, Belgium, and then finally
Holland, and ended up being in the car with him for over 5 hours, damn what a
good ride. Our last ride of the night was with Belgian Light Fixtures Guy, who
drove fast and was slightly stern, but overall harmless. He dropped us off at a
service station, where we decided to set up for the night. Our goal for the day was to get
to Germany, and we had made it!
| Our fancy lunch |
We splurged and bought dinner- McDonalds and bratwurst. After
scoping out the place, our best option to set up our tent was in the woods
behind the service station, near this creepy alter building thing. I was too
scared to go inside, but Dave checked it out. We just prayed that no one would
go there in the middle of the night and notice our tent!
Some thoughts about hitchhiking:
I felt very much like a homeless person, mainly because our
success depended entirely on the generosity of others. Walking the two miles
today to the service station felt so good because we were entirely in control. Though
people are kinder than I expected. We’ve talked to a lot of people that don’t
give us lifts but offer help in other forms: contributions to the charity,
food, advice, and stories. Also, I’m very curious as to how others perceive us.
Desperate? Happy? Crazy? Unintimidating?
Day 3: Fuck You, Karlsruhe
Though we woke as early as our bodies would let us, the sun was already up, a sketchy van was
parked near us, and people were walking dogs all around our tent. So much for
staying hidden. Our first lift of the day was with Public Health Woman, from Germany
who had studied at Harvard! She gave us her contact info and wished us well.
Next up, Busy Dutch Couple (they had 8 kids and a huge van for all of them).
They didn’t speak much English, but we had fun making conversation with them
about all their children and how old everyone was. Our next ride, Albert
(actual name), was one of my favorites. He took us on a scenic route along the
Rhine River. After seeing only highways, I was so appreciative to finally see
what Germany was actually like. The small towns we drove through were adorable!
We exchanged contact info and he kindly offered us a place to stay that night
if we needed it. The service station he dropped us off at was rather small and
after trying for a few hours we were about to give up when alas, we found a
ride! This was with Ethanol Guy who was from Germany and had very strong
opinions about not only ethanol but everything really. It might have been because we had
had such a long day, but we just did not get along with him. Though we tried to
explain to him that we wanted to be dropped off at a service station, he took
us instead to a tiny petrol station in a town.
| Where we had slept for the night |
Let’s just say it was a rough night. Frantic hitchhiking
attempts ensued, followed by our realization that there was no way we were
getting out of Karlsruhe that night. There was creepy Charlotte, a woman who
claimed to love helping lost people, “the more lost the better,” wtf does that
mean?! Because we were too cheap to pay, we begged for free beds at a jugendherberge
(youth hostel) and several hotels unsuccessfully, and finally came across what
looked like another jugendherberge with a group of guys sitting in front of it.
They said it was like a jugendherberge, but not quite. Umm… what? They had
trouble explaining it in English, but we finally realized it was a college
dorm! Finally, with no other options we set up our tent at the back corner of an open square, behind a gym. We wolfed down dinner inside the tent, hours too
late for it to even make sense to eat. All night, we laid in mild terror,
hoping that none of the drunk German guys, the dump truck unloading something
in the middle of the night or the people closing up the gym would discover us. We
even put out a letter in German explaining that we were doing a charity
hitchhike, in the hopes that if the police came, this would save our asses.
Day 4: Brohannes
Johannes (referred to from here on out as Brohannes) was our
beacon of light today. We were relieved to wake up not having been arrested. We
ate a quick breakfast of one cookie each and a few raisin handfuls, then packed
up all our stuff. We asked for directions at the hostel (the guy thought we had
stayed there, yup. Room number? Uh… bye!). Then we walked through the city in
the direction of the temple that Charlotte had told us about that supposedly
you could see from everywhere. Not quite, but we eventually found it. Plus,
en-route we walked amongst beautiful gardens. Karlsruhe really is charming, and
I found myself cutting Charlotte some slack, as she had really just wanted us
to love Karlsruhe as much as she did. The highlight of the morning (besides not
getting arrested) was a little bakery we found where we replenished our bread
stock and got sausage and cheese baugettes. After a long walk with futile
attempts at hitchhiking, we finally made it to the gas station from last night.
We tried hitching there, along the road, next to the traffic light, and at the
mall with zero luck. I had a mild breakdown at a snack shack outside the mall
after trying to get help from the guy who worked it and realizing he didn’t
speak any English. I then proceeded to laugh until I cried (not in a good way),
when the man noticed us moping around and gave us what we would like to think
of as a pep talk, though he kind of just shouted to us in German so for all we
know it could have meant to get the hell out. But his words were what we needed
so we got up and left to try hitching at the traffic light again.
| The temple |
Enter Brohannes, the Hitchhiking Guru, a lanky, goofy
bespectacled red head wearing a bright yellow jacket. He took one look at us,
shook his head, and took our hands. Not really. But as a fellow (more
experienced) hitchhiker, he led us to a better spot where he claimed it had
taken him a half hour max to get a lift. There was something about Brohannes
that completely calmed us, and I knew that with his help, we would make it out
of Karlsruhe. Another hitcher even turned up, just a little farther down the
road. “A good day for hitching” were Brohannes’ wise words, not “Oh shit, we’ll
never get rides.” We only knew him for 10 minutes, but he completely changed
our outlook on hitchhiking.
Here are some lessons learned from Brohannes:
·
Assume a casual stance alongside the road,
giving a small half smile when a car drives by and crooking your thumb along
the road
·
Never, ever get too invested in one ride, that
way no matter how many cars drive by and refuse you, you don’t get disappointed
·
If you get tired, take a break and read a book
or just relax. Who cares?
·
Overall, generally don’t give a shit. You’ll get
a ride eventually.
After
a short while, we watched as the hitchhiker ahead of us got a lift, and having
newly adopted the Brohannes stance, she picked us up too. We parted ways with
Brohannes (he was going a different way). And on April 19th, 11:47am
(or something like that), we fled the town of Karlsruhe and never looked
back. Wherever in the world you are Brohannes, thank you.
Our
hitch was with German Woman, who had an old beater car filled with junk, but hell I
didn’t care. She dropped us off near Stuttgart, where we split off from the
other hitcher and took showers at the rest station using vouchers we had
received from a kind lady yesterday. The day was already looking, and smelling,
much better! Even better, we ate “gourmet” sandwiches for lunch: bread with
melted (microwaved) cheese, apple slices, and spicy mustard that we had picked
up from a previous rest station. All this put us in great spirits and we were
able to get a hitch soon after we started looking from an army wife from the US
whose husband is stationed in Germany. It was great to talk to a woman since
most of our rides are from men, and I especially felt close to her since my
boyfriend is in the army as well. She seemed relieved to hear an American
accent again, and wanted to donate but only had one US dollar bill. I kept it
in my pocket the rest of the trip as a good luck charm and as a piece of home.
Our
next ride was with German Workmen, two guys in a big van. After that, we stood
in the rain for awhile and eventually got a ride with Ski Bum, who owned a
ski resort and drove upwards of 200 kph on the autobahn in his fancy car. What
a rush! He dropped us off at a “luxury” rest station in Austria, and because it
was still kind of early in the night, we just sat and relaxed for a long time
and marveled at our good luck for awhile. I was still shocked to be out of
Karlsruhe to be honest. After splurging on a meal (aka McDonalds) we sat and
talked for awhile, unpacked our stuff, and eventually settled down in the
McDonalds playpen (I’m serious, we gotta sleep somewhere!). It ended up being
crap (weird looks from people, bright lights, music playing), so we moved upstairs
to a rooftop terrace area, which was cold but quiet.
Day
5: Welcome to Croatia!
What
a day! We had a super early wakeup, a quick breakfast of oranges and Nutella,
then started hitchhiking. It’s funny, the first day of this trip the idea of
hitching was so strange and foreign to me, but by today we were old pros. After
about 45 minutes, Thai Lady, who has been living in Austria the past while and
had a huge ass van for all her friends apparently, picked us up. We got dropped
off at a service station, sat inside to regroup and rewrite our sign and within
minutes we had secured another lift- our first time in a lorry (tractor
trailer)! The two truckers were dressed surprisingly well, and one had a wife
and kids. We were warned that if police were at the Austria/Slovenia border two
of us would have to duck down and hide, but to our luck there were no police! I’d
never been inside the cab of a truck before and this one was pretty neat-
music, computer, weights to work out, dream catcher. They brought us to an
Slovenian rest station, where we ate our standard lunch of bread, meat and
cheese at a restaurant’s table; the lady working there started to yell at us to
leave but after she saw how pathetic we looked, she just laughed at us and let
us stay.
OK,
next hitch: with Classic Trucker, complete with a big belly, old ripped
t-shirt, drinking milk right out of the carton, ranting about the US government
in a mix of Slovenian, Italian, and English, and playing folksy Eastern
European music. And we absolutely fucking loved him. David even stood on his
dinner table by accident, it was only the center console really but the trucker
freaked out, but forgave us pretty quickly. Though he didn’t speak much
English, we ended up finding a way to communicate, and even joke around.
Because of the number of people in the truck restrictions, he had to drop us
off right before the Croatian before. So after 22 hitches (yes, I kept count),
5 days, and 1500 miles, we had reached the border solely because of the kindness
of others. So it felt that much better to be able to cross the border on our
own two feet. After getting some weird glances and showing our passports twice,
we were home free!
Our
next ride was shitty, partly because as Dave was getting out of the truck a
ladder fell on his back and partly because we got dropped off at the opposite
of where we wanted to. But a kind Croatian English teacher and his mom helped
us quickly recover: they brought us to a toll booth going in the right
direction. From there, two hippy Croatian girls brought us to a campsite near
Plitvice Lakes National Park, where we took hot showers and finally slept
legally again!
How
did we spend our next 5 days in Croatia? Read my next blog post, coming soon,
to find out!
Homemade vegan energy truffles? I know what that's code for...
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