hitch'n another ride

part one

"This will happen from time to time where you're forced to keep hitching and hope for the best"

So we hoped and we hoped and were given a german couple about half an hour later. They liked us so much they dropped us 15km past the spot they were going to stop at; not just their turn off, but thier bed and breakfast. He gave us his email and offered a couch for the both of us for Oktoberfest!

"just make sure to tell all your Canadian friends that Germans aren't all that bad"

we waited awhile at Lago De Garda and had a beer and discussed life and other things.

We got another ride from another guy, but I mostly stared out the window. We would be arriving in Garda shortly and from there it was just a short walk to our host for the evening. My first day hitching had been exciting and fantastic and addicting. I didn't want to stop, I wanted to put my thumb out again and again and meet more and more people. The sorts of people who stop and pick you up are the sorts of people I want to meet. They have stories to tell and are genuine and kind and considerate and understand what it's like to hitch. But even though it was exciting and wonderful it was also exhausting. The ware that came from a day spent on my feet, waiting patiently, thinking everytime I said goodbye and thank-you to a ride that it will be the last ride we saw that day was showing. we also needed to eat.

a polite good-bye, a thank-you and a short walk later we arrived on Guiseppe's doorstep and juggled until he got home from work. His parents watched from what they thought was an unseen window, offered us water and cookies and did what they do in the garden and kitchen.

hitch'n a ride

on what was our last morning in Trento we didn't set out as early as we would have liked. Grayson was somewhat anxious about finding rides, but if worse came to worse we wouldn't in too bad a position if no one picked us up: we were only a stones throw from the train station and it only cost five euros.

"you want to do this eh? i've never hitched with just another guy before, i don't know how this is going to go"

"damn right i do! you're leaving in two weeks and i won't have the caurage to learn to do this on my own."

so we hauled our rucksacks to a spot that felt right and made them look small. we held out our thumbs, smiled large and watched the people pass by. 

this is it. i thought this is what i've been craving. i'll be just like Sal Paradise and Gray will be Dean ... and we will be on the road.

Cars passed by, as they do most often, and we waved politely and smiled so they could see we were pleasant travelers. It must have worked because after only ten minutes a small red pinto pulled to the side. Luca was 27, worked with troubled teans and was an ex junkie. He talked and talked and told stories of traveling and bad people in Amsterdam and his bad ex-habbits. He liked that we were hitching and spoke decent english. He dropped us off in a small town next to anther trainstation, wished us luck and sped away.

Our next ride came an hour later, cinqua minuto before we were going to give up. A man was driving his mamma who had "just had a few McBiers and wanted someone to talk to" he joked about wanting someone to talk to her that wasn't him. They both laughed and then turned to us for a response that we couldn't give because they had been speaking italiano. We didn't get to have our laugh until nearly a half an hour later when we had decoded their italian and come to the end of our ride. The dropped us in a small town with no sign of a train station anywhere.

"This will happen from time to time where you're forced to keep hitching and hope for the best"

part two