After three days serious R and R in Brussels Tom and I said our goodbyes to Pat (he set off walking out of Brussels headed for Paris!) and headed for the European Parliament hoping to get a ride. There was one slight problem, we were VERY unorganised and did end up leaving til gone 5pm. We got to the European Parliament to find a very busy three laned high way full of speeding cars, our hearts sank, there was no way we were getting a lift form there. Nevertheless we thought we'd give it a shot and within 30 seconds of holding our our signs to the speeding traffic someone drove his car up onto the kerb at high speed and told us to get in, QUICK. We did as we were told!
Turned out that the guy who stopped for us (both me and Tom have forgotten his name) was the minister for education and finance in the Flemish government! He wasn't going far but did drop us off at a service station just outside of Brussels on what we thought was the right road to Berlin..... We couldn't get a lift that night so resigned ourselves to sleeping there, but tit looked like a pretty good place to sleep, lots of grass, benched to cook on, almost the perfect place at face value. Under further inspection we discovered the entire place was in fact a Bog. We scoured the whole area until we found what must have been the driest couple of square meters of grass, our spirits lifted once again.
We rose early the next day hoping to catch a trucker leaving for Berlin. After about 30 minutes trying a truck driven by one the the most memorable characters so far. He was a 60 year old American from Florida who'd been working in Germany for 35 years. He explained to us that although our planned route was the straightest, no one would be going to Berlin and in fact we should come south with him!!! Of course we got in and and the next 4 and a half hours were very interesting. There are far too many stories to tell right now (especially as it is about 38 degrees and I'm close to passing out). He dropped us off at yet another service station (we're really starting to feel at home at them now) and promised us that we would be waiting for more than 30 minutes for a lift. We were there for 4 and a half hours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
These four and a half hours spent would have been like any other four and a half ours if it weren't for the POLIZEI (German Police) turning up, declaring that i and only i "looked the type" and searched me. They were sure i had drugs, i was happy to disappoint them. All ended with smiles and shaken hands and soon after they drove off our third ride turned up.
His name was Johansen and he was going about 350 Ks, in the wrong direction i might add, but promised he's drop us in the A9 (the main Autobahn to Berlin), we'd had enough of that particular service staion and got in happy to be moving. The ride was certainly eventful, Johansen liked to drive, drive fast and his Mercedes E220 was capable of over 220kph (roughly 140mph! twice the legal speed limit of our fair Isle). Coming across a traffic jam soon after departing Johansen took a detour through some spectacualr scenery and also almost made us nearly soil ourselves with some death defying overtaking. Nearing our destination Johansen proclaimed that he thought he could hear his exhaust blowing i concurred with him, it definitely sounded like there was a small hole in his exhaust. Dropping us off at the service station, he jumped out to check his exhaust, we all peered under his car, there was nothing, no exhaust present. And finally to top it all off his rear bumper was also hanging on by a thread. We helped him secure his bumper and waved him off, it was well gone midnight by this time and both me and Tom were tired. We bedded down in our tent behind the petrol station hoping no one would come and ask us to move on...... no one did.
We woke very early the next day to glorious sunshine and quickly position ourselves at the exit, thumbs out. We didn't have to wait long for a lift with a kind lady called Dorothy. She was on her way up to the very northern point of Germany for a work Seminar, she was a holistic Orthodontist!!! She claimed that she could diagnose an illness simply by inspecting the patients teeth! She drove us to a service station about 70Ks outside of Berlin where once again we didn't have to wait long for a lift, this time the guy who picked us up spoke no English, conversation was short.
So we finally made it to Berlin at about 4pm, one hour off three days after leaving, quite a mission. I apologise for any spelling mistakes and general poor English but it is so damn hot i can't really think straight.
Friday, 20 July 2007
argh!
So we've been away for something like 27 days and only managed to write about 5 days worth of blog! nightmare.....
Al and I hitched seperatly from Amsterdam back to Brussels, Claire, Thom and I hitched a straight lift with Rik, the managing director of the Belgian Anti Piracy Federation ( the equivalant of FACT) once again an incredibly interesting lift, and he took us all the way into the heart of brussells from Amsterdam, pointing out the NATO HQ and the European parliament.
Unfortunatly, our luck in getting such an easy lift to Brussels, did not hold as the hostel we were to stay at was full! Furthermore i was unable to get in contact with the people we had hoped to stay with, and so keeping our budget in mind we decided we'd rather spend our limited cash on some good beer in the excellent "A la Mort Subite" (Sudden Death) belgian bar, sampling some of the highly alcoholic Belgian culture!
Having spent our money wisely we proceeded to spend the night sleeping (hiding) behind a hedge outside the Grand Palace directly in the city centre. Not the most comfortable of nights, but certainly true to our budget and spirit of adventure! - We certainly went some of the way to earning our sponsorship!
From there we were woken early by a light rain and were able to get free train transport to Werchter, where we spent an amazing 4 days at the music festival there. (This trip began life as this 4 day break in Belgium, somehow it spawned into hitching to Istanbul.)
The four day music festival is largely an excellent haze in my memory now, but good times were had! From there we were able to get the train back to Brussels and were put up by an amazing host, Vicky! ( we spent 2 days recovering, and getting clean, watching her incredibly girly collectiong of DvD's, with the occasional venture wandering the streets of Brussels.
It was with heavy hearts that we finally left our extremely comfy nest in Brussels, said goodbye to our travel companions and got back on the road properly, heading to Berlin!
Al and I hitched seperatly from Amsterdam back to Brussels, Claire, Thom and I hitched a straight lift with Rik, the managing director of the Belgian Anti Piracy Federation ( the equivalant of FACT) once again an incredibly interesting lift, and he took us all the way into the heart of brussells from Amsterdam, pointing out the NATO HQ and the European parliament.
Unfortunatly, our luck in getting such an easy lift to Brussels, did not hold as the hostel we were to stay at was full! Furthermore i was unable to get in contact with the people we had hoped to stay with, and so keeping our budget in mind we decided we'd rather spend our limited cash on some good beer in the excellent "A la Mort Subite" (Sudden Death) belgian bar, sampling some of the highly alcoholic Belgian culture!
Having spent our money wisely we proceeded to spend the night sleeping (hiding) behind a hedge outside the Grand Palace directly in the city centre. Not the most comfortable of nights, but certainly true to our budget and spirit of adventure! - We certainly went some of the way to earning our sponsorship!
From there we were woken early by a light rain and were able to get free train transport to Werchter, where we spent an amazing 4 days at the music festival there. (This trip began life as this 4 day break in Belgium, somehow it spawned into hitching to Istanbul.)
The four day music festival is largely an excellent haze in my memory now, but good times were had! From there we were able to get the train back to Brussels and were put up by an amazing host, Vicky! ( we spent 2 days recovering, and getting clean, watching her incredibly girly collectiong of DvD's, with the occasional venture wandering the streets of Brussels.
It was with heavy hearts that we finally left our extremely comfy nest in Brussels, said goodbye to our travel companions and got back on the road properly, heading to Berlin!
Thursday, 12 July 2007
LEAVING AMSTERDAM
The day finally came to leave Amsterdam, thankfully the rain decided to stay away this particular day (one of only a few occasions). However the weather was the last of our worries, after meeting in Amsterdam there was a five strong group (Alex, Tom, Thom, Pat and Claire) of us all heading in the same direction to a little village in Belgium for a festival they hold there every year - Rock Werchter. This had been our initial driving force behind deciding to travel through Europe this summer, three days of rock 'n' Roll in the sun (the sun didn't cooperate!)
We eventually made it to a suitable hitching location late in the afternoon, far from ideal, but luckily within 5 minutes of arriving a car pulled up willing to take myself and Pat down the motorway to a service station just outside of Breda. Squeezing in to the back of a Fiat Punto we said our goodbyes and made vague arrangements to meet in Brussels later that night!!! Needless to say we didn't see each other again until the first day of the festival. Getting dropped off in the pouring rain at a non-descript service station, outside a Dutch city did not fill me with confidence about our task but i was surprised to be offered a lift before we'd even had chance to ask.
So there we jumped in to the second car of the day, a much larger and more comfortable Volvo estate!!!!! The couple in front were kind enough to give us a lift to Antwerp where we made our way into the centre and somehow found ourselves in a pub with lots of china sheep everywhere and two enormously friendly bar staff. We sat, took stock of the situation and enjoyed some fine tasting beer recommended to us by our new friends. Very quickly it got dark and we realised we needed to find somewhere to sleep. With vague directions from the landlord and his mate we set off to find the tram which would take us to our destination, a campsite outside of the city centre. Arriving late we pitched the tent and got down to some serious rest after what was a surprisingly tiring day.
Waking early with the sun was quite a shock to us (after almost a week of wind and rain in Amsterdam), but knowing we had to be at Werchter as early as possible, we quickly tidied our stuff away and made our escape. With free transport promised by the event organisers we were prepared to take full advantage, hopping on the short train ride from Antwerp, followed by an even shorter bus ride, we found ourselves at the entrance to camp site B1. Our elation over arriving was dampened somewhat when we realised we had to find, Tom, Thom and Claire in a sea of about 10 000 tents, we prepared for a long day!!!!!
Miraculously i spotted the Union Jack Tom had hoisted into a tree and there camping below were, Tom, Thom and Claire waiting dutifully for our arrival.
The day finally came to leave Amsterdam, thankfully the rain decided to stay away this particular day (one of only a few occasions). However the weather was the last of our worries, after meeting in Amsterdam there was a five strong group (Alex, Tom, Thom, Pat and Claire) of us all heading in the same direction to a little village in Belgium for a festival they hold there every year - Rock Werchter. This had been our initial driving force behind deciding to travel through Europe this summer, three days of rock 'n' Roll in the sun (the sun didn't cooperate!)
We eventually made it to a suitable hitching location late in the afternoon, far from ideal, but luckily within 5 minutes of arriving a car pulled up willing to take myself and Pat down the motorway to a service station just outside of Breda. Squeezing in to the back of a Fiat Punto we said our goodbyes and made vague arrangements to meet in Brussels later that night!!! Needless to say we didn't see each other again until the first day of the festival. Getting dropped off in the pouring rain at a non-descript service station, outside a Dutch city did not fill me with confidence about our task but i was surprised to be offered a lift before we'd even had chance to ask.
So there we jumped in to the second car of the day, a much larger and more comfortable Volvo estate!!!!! The couple in front were kind enough to give us a lift to Antwerp where we made our way into the centre and somehow found ourselves in a pub with lots of china sheep everywhere and two enormously friendly bar staff. We sat, took stock of the situation and enjoyed some fine tasting beer recommended to us by our new friends. Very quickly it got dark and we realised we needed to find somewhere to sleep. With vague directions from the landlord and his mate we set off to find the tram which would take us to our destination, a campsite outside of the city centre. Arriving late we pitched the tent and got down to some serious rest after what was a surprisingly tiring day.
Waking early with the sun was quite a shock to us (after almost a week of wind and rain in Amsterdam), but knowing we had to be at Werchter as early as possible, we quickly tidied our stuff away and made our escape. With free transport promised by the event organisers we were prepared to take full advantage, hopping on the short train ride from Antwerp, followed by an even shorter bus ride, we found ourselves at the entrance to camp site B1. Our elation over arriving was dampened somewhat when we realised we had to find, Tom, Thom and Claire in a sea of about 10 000 tents, we prepared for a long day!!!!!
Miraculously i spotted the Union Jack Tom had hoisted into a tree and there camping below were, Tom, Thom and Claire waiting dutifully for our arrival.
Remembering Day Two.
So we ended our first day with a belly full of out-of-date Cajun Chicken, and our heads and hearts full of despair at having spent 5 futile hours trying to get a lift out of Gatwick Airport. We awoke at 5am without nearly enough sleep to try a different approach in a bid to get somewhere, anywhere, that was away from the airport!
This involved using more of the skills acquired whilst fundraising to persuade an incredibly kind bus driver of a certain national coach company to give us a lift into London central bus station. Now in many ways this was breaking a cardinal rule of Hitchhiking, which is: avoid at all costs going into population centres to get lifts, because you have to work your way out again. By this stage we didn't care, we just needed a lift! And so we found ourselves at 8:30 on a Sunday morning begging a French bus driver for a lift all the way from London, direct to Amsterdam, we saw it as our golden opportunity, but unfortunately after a rough nights sleep at Gatwick, my silver tongue felt more like lead, and we were stonewalled.
Desperation set in after 4 hours waiting at the bus station as we could see no obvious way out, until we came across a bus going to Dover... surely our only option! In many ways this was our last hope, but after 15 hours of going nowhere, and with very little sleep, i felt it important not to show just how desperate we felt! Despite our best efforts, the bus driver was understandably worried about his job and so sent us to talk to his boss. Once again i had to go and give our pitch and suck up the desperation, so that i could try and persuade a complete stranger to give us something for free, that others have to pay for. As hard as I tried, the boss sitting in his office was having none of it, and told us that he had got into trouble in the past for a similar situation, but we should try and talk to the general manager.
Unfortunately we had already run into the general manager who had skillfully passed us off with a phone number which only led to a labyrinth of numeric options, and never ever actually gave you the option "speak to a human". This appeared to be it. Nobody would help us. We were well and truly stuck. Instow to London. Not good.
And so with a huge grin on my face I left the bosses office and wandered over to the bus driver to tell him.... " um... yeah, the guys in the office, erm.... they reckon its ok.... they ....erm... they said its pretty much up to you." Well, the bus driver didn't look too impressed, or indeed completely believing and replied..."well i best go check with the office", (which obviously led to panic on my part.) but just as he walked off, he said, "so I'll turn my back and you get on the bus".
Now due to my heavily fatigued state, i didn't immediately pick up on this.... i thought he was inferring that i look like the type of person who would just stow-away. Now i might be the kind of person who will tell a little white lie for a good cause, but I'm far too much of a wimp to stow away on this (scary looking) guys bus! and so to a look of blank incomprehension he repeated comically slowly.... "So. I'll. turn. my. back, and. you. get. on. the. bus." wink wink nudge nudge.
Eventually, thanks to a small white lie on my part and a very good natured bus driver (who has since donated to the cause... thank you!) we made it to Dover!
On arrival at Dover, we just wanted to keep the momentum up, and keep going, and so i have to confess we suffered a moment of weakness, and rather than try and hitch a lift across the channel, we were offered a special deal by the ferry operators, which was just too good to refuse..... Thom kindly paid two pounds for our ferry fare across. (however this did come with a free bottle of wine, which we planned to sell to recover our costs...... but it went somewhere....Thom kindly agreed to pay for my fare and so i am still travelling with principles intact!)
Once on the ferry, we finally felt much better, as we had achieved what had seemed like such a difficult ambition, getting across the country, and finally across the channel without spending any money on transport! Once on board, we knew we had to work hard though, as everything we had read warned how hard it is to hitch from Calais, and so I ended up traipsing through the truckers cafeteria asking for lifts, which was pretty flipping humiliating, as each table would see you coming and prepare their rejection. Not a position i want to be in again, and it was defiantly one of those moments which was made easier by the knowledge that what i was going through was for charity! Fortunately just as i was about to give up being totally and completely and humiliatingly rejected over and over again, an absolute hero came to our rescue.
Many an awesome story can be told about our journey with Paul, but they will have to be told in person! Suffice to Say Paul was driving a truck loaded with guitars, drums, lights, amps and equipment belonging to the Killers(!) who had just performed at Glastonbury and he was driving to Helsinki with their gear for the next gig!
Our fortunes improved immediately on meeting Paul, who pointed us in the direction of a free shower on the ferry, and just as i was returning, thinking things couldn't be much better, (especially considering our state 8 hours ago at Gatwick!) i found Thom receiving a free massage, from a stunning girl, who turned out to be the daughter of a Costa Rican ambassador's to the UN. Lucky git.
Paul dropped us off at a service station outside Ghent, and Thom and I treated ourselves to a proper meal at the service station. An hour later and we were back on the move with an incredibly kind Belgian couple who not only drove us to Antwerp, but then set us up with a lift with their friend, Erik (a marketing manager for an awesome dutch television station!) all the way to Amsterdam! We finally arrived to meet Alex and Patrick in Amsterdam, at midnight, 43 hours after leaving Instow!
This involved using more of the skills acquired whilst fundraising to persuade an incredibly kind bus driver of a certain national coach company to give us a lift into London central bus station. Now in many ways this was breaking a cardinal rule of Hitchhiking, which is: avoid at all costs going into population centres to get lifts, because you have to work your way out again. By this stage we didn't care, we just needed a lift! And so we found ourselves at 8:30 on a Sunday morning begging a French bus driver for a lift all the way from London, direct to Amsterdam, we saw it as our golden opportunity, but unfortunately after a rough nights sleep at Gatwick, my silver tongue felt more like lead, and we were stonewalled.
--Desperate Times, Desperate Measures --
Desperation set in after 4 hours waiting at the bus station as we could see no obvious way out, until we came across a bus going to Dover... surely our only option! In many ways this was our last hope, but after 15 hours of going nowhere, and with very little sleep, i felt it important not to show just how desperate we felt! Despite our best efforts, the bus driver was understandably worried about his job and so sent us to talk to his boss. Once again i had to go and give our pitch and suck up the desperation, so that i could try and persuade a complete stranger to give us something for free, that others have to pay for. As hard as I tried, the boss sitting in his office was having none of it, and told us that he had got into trouble in the past for a similar situation, but we should try and talk to the general manager.
Unfortunately we had already run into the general manager who had skillfully passed us off with a phone number which only led to a labyrinth of numeric options, and never ever actually gave you the option "speak to a human". This appeared to be it. Nobody would help us. We were well and truly stuck. Instow to London. Not good.
And so with a huge grin on my face I left the bosses office and wandered over to the bus driver to tell him.... " um... yeah, the guys in the office, erm.... they reckon its ok.... they ....erm... they said its pretty much up to you." Well, the bus driver didn't look too impressed, or indeed completely believing and replied..."well i best go check with the office", (which obviously led to panic on my part.) but just as he walked off, he said, "so I'll turn my back and you get on the bus".
Now due to my heavily fatigued state, i didn't immediately pick up on this.... i thought he was inferring that i look like the type of person who would just stow-away. Now i might be the kind of person who will tell a little white lie for a good cause, but I'm far too much of a wimp to stow away on this (scary looking) guys bus! and so to a look of blank incomprehension he repeated comically slowly.... "So. I'll. turn. my. back, and. you. get. on. the. bus." wink wink nudge nudge.
Eventually, thanks to a small white lie on my part and a very good natured bus driver (who has since donated to the cause... thank you!) we made it to Dover!
-- The Final Stage --
On arrival at Dover, we just wanted to keep the momentum up, and keep going, and so i have to confess we suffered a moment of weakness, and rather than try and hitch a lift across the channel, we were offered a special deal by the ferry operators, which was just too good to refuse..... Thom kindly paid two pounds for our ferry fare across. (however this did come with a free bottle of wine, which we planned to sell to recover our costs...... but it went somewhere....Thom kindly agreed to pay for my fare and so i am still travelling with principles intact!)
Once on the ferry, we finally felt much better, as we had achieved what had seemed like such a difficult ambition, getting across the country, and finally across the channel without spending any money on transport! Once on board, we knew we had to work hard though, as everything we had read warned how hard it is to hitch from Calais, and so I ended up traipsing through the truckers cafeteria asking for lifts, which was pretty flipping humiliating, as each table would see you coming and prepare their rejection. Not a position i want to be in again, and it was defiantly one of those moments which was made easier by the knowledge that what i was going through was for charity! Fortunately just as i was about to give up being totally and completely and humiliatingly rejected over and over again, an absolute hero came to our rescue.
Many an awesome story can be told about our journey with Paul, but they will have to be told in person! Suffice to Say Paul was driving a truck loaded with guitars, drums, lights, amps and equipment belonging to the Killers(!) who had just performed at Glastonbury and he was driving to Helsinki with their gear for the next gig!
Our fortunes improved immediately on meeting Paul, who pointed us in the direction of a free shower on the ferry, and just as i was returning, thinking things couldn't be much better, (especially considering our state 8 hours ago at Gatwick!) i found Thom receiving a free massage, from a stunning girl, who turned out to be the daughter of a Costa Rican ambassador's to the UN. Lucky git.
Paul dropped us off at a service station outside Ghent, and Thom and I treated ourselves to a proper meal at the service station. An hour later and we were back on the move with an incredibly kind Belgian couple who not only drove us to Antwerp, but then set us up with a lift with their friend, Erik (a marketing manager for an awesome dutch television station!) all the way to Amsterdam! We finally arrived to meet Alex and Patrick in Amsterdam, at midnight, 43 hours after leaving Instow!
Sporadic Updates!
Ok, as you can see, its not been as easy as hoped and expected to keep the blog updated! This is particularly because I like to tell the whole story, however, as many people have pointed out, the way things are going at the moment, I'll end up spending half my time away in Internet Cafes writing the blog, rather than living the dream! So updates might get slightly shorter, but will hopefully be far more frequent from now on!
Wednesday, 4 July 2007
Leg One; My First Day of Hitching.
It began on a very very wet and cold morning, over 10 days ago, and what an incredible 10 days it's been. Its incredibly difficult to know where to begin, and the hardest part is working out what to leave out. I've met such a wide variety of amazing people, and already had so much fun that I have to say that despite all the abuse my friends will give me for using such a naff sounding line; life has never felt so rich.Al had himself a lift sorted, which I unfortunately couldn't beg, borrow or steal my way onto, and so our adventure together actually began apart, but we were soon to be reunited.
-Leaving North Devon-
After a massive (and story worthy) breakfast, I finally left Instow on Saturday 23rd of June at 5.30 am, and began the long walk from Instow into Barnstaple. It was a far from glamorous start, with only mum to wave me off as I wondered out into the early morning rain. 500 metres down the road, with not a car to be heard, the rain pelting down and my arms already aching, it did cross my mind that I should possibly be questioning my sanity, however I was so happy to be moving, I had huge grin on my face and not a care in the world. (which in hindsight makes me realise why I didn't question my sanity. By most people's standards I think I would have been found wanting.)
After only a 40 minute walk, the first bus of the day 
cruised up to Lagoon View bus stop where I stood with my thumb out, and so I scored my first lift by talking the bus driver into giving me a lift to town. Although I had expected that the rain would help me hitch, I didn't really appreciate how useful it would be to my cause to be doing this for charity. This is because I can wear it as a badge of respectability that helps remove those first impressions that people might have about my axe-wielding-serial-killer potential.
cruised up to Lagoon View bus stop where I stood with my thumb out, and so I scored my first lift by talking the bus driver into giving me a lift to town. Although I had expected that the rain would help me hitch, I didn't really appreciate how useful it would be to my cause to be doing this for charity. This is because I can wear it as a badge of respectability that helps remove those first impressions that people might have about my axe-wielding-serial-killer potential.The incredibly kind bus driver suggested I try my luck with his colleagues, but it was just past 6am and I had hardly slept the night before from the mixture of last minute bag packing and excitement, consequently I was itching to get hitching. So instead I slung on my bags and got walking out to Tesco to acquire some quality cardboard in order to make my first disposable sign.
In a highly random (and considering my circumstances) somewhat bizarre moment, I bumped into my secondary school maths teacher, the living legend Mr Pankhurst! Mr Pankhurst is an amazing teacher, and his influence as my maths teacher for 4 years has undoubtedly shaped the person I am today, so meeting him at 7 am on Saturday morning in Tesco, on my way to Istanbul was odd to say the least. I wish I had made more of that conversation, which is why I mention it here; but such was my puppy enthusiasm I literally ran around Tescos to get on the road!
-"I sure hope the road doesn't come to own me."-
More the fool me, as I finally got to the only road out of North Devon the heavens opened, literally in a monsoon sized cloud burst. Fortunately 3 (THREE!!!) car's all stopped within 10 seconds of one another, which greatly restored my faith in both North Devon's drivers, and also my quest.
My second lift, (and here I must apologise for it was not until my fourth or fifth lift that I learned to properly introduce myself to each driver) was a hero with some great tales from his travels!. Stuart (if that was your name..) had two great lessons for me. The first came from a song, and is the title of this section. I'm still not sure how i feel about those lyrics.
Secondly was the story of his 1990 (!) gap year and how five years later, two of his travel companions who had met abroad, got married in Canada. Everybody who had been on that trip made it to the wedding. For me this is a really touching example of the kind of friendships and relationships that you only form when travelling.
Stuart(?!) dropped me off at Tiverton Station, and unable to persuade the station master to give me a free ticket, I was back out to walking in the rain. Rather than truck all the way along the roads I asked in a nearby farmhouse if there was a shortcut across their fields to the motorway junction, I was assured there was, and so set out laden with bags across the muddy fields. It was at this stage, 4 hours since my journey began that I first began to talk to myself. The path to the motorway involved beating my way through nettles, vaulting a gate, climbing a barbed wire fence, before getting over a water filled ditch, and emerging like a wild-crazy-bush-man onto the side of the road. Next to me was a dead sheep. Brilliant.
Fortunately after escaping the death filled ditch, and dodging multiple lanes of high speed traffic I didn't have to wait long for the next lift. Another nameless saviour and my first white-van man, who not only had considerable hitching experience, had also hitched in Istanbul 30 years before! I just wish I'd had the chance to pick his brains more, but I will remember to look out for Trustafarians, not to let any dogs steal my food, and will watch out for that certain park in Paris!!!
-The Trip Receives it's first Religious Backing-
Around 11am, I finally got stuck, but fortunately for less than an hour before my brand new, huge "Charity Hitch" sign lured in a lift! (I had just ditched my first sign which had said simply "Services"..... mmm, selling or buying? glad I realised my mistake before waving that at anyone.)
I have to thank Morag and Karen for going well out of their way to take me a good distance on to the M4, and also for their very touching parting prayer. Although I am not a religious person at all, it was quite an unusual experience for me and it was my highlight of the first leg.
I felt I could say with pride that my trip was officially sanctioned by one diety, approved of by the big guy and i could quote the great line "I'm on a mission from God." (re-watch the Blues Brothers if you don't understand how cool this was for me! :-) I look forward to collecting a wide spectrum religious backings!!
-Spending too long colouring in your Hitching Sign with
a Permanent Marker gets you high.-
I didn't have to wait long at Junction 18 on the M4 before my next lift, which really surprised me as it came from Rebbecca,a single female driver in her awesome sports car! Surely the least likely profile of a person to pick up a hitcher ever!
To you Rebecca, I finally worked out this is why we had such a banter filled conversation, it wasn't just the lack of food, or the lack of sleep, but the fact that I'd just spent 20 minutes colouring in my sign with a permanent pen. I've learned my lesson, but throughly enjoyed our chat! For this journey, I'm afraid I was the story, and I think I talked even faster than usual about a huge range of topics, I hope I didn't scare her too much, but am reassured by the gift of a king-size-twix, and for the record, it was awesome.
- Some of the Best Things about Hitching So Far.-
Having just piled out of Rebecca's car(e) gratefully clutching my twix and incredibly self aware, I had one of what has become a series of ephiphanies about the wonders of hitch-hiking, this seems like a suitable point in my story to list a few of them.
Firstly as Rick (we'll come to him) so eloquently stated, as a hitcher you don't have to deal with arseholes, because arseholes don't pick up hitchers. By similar logic, people who do pick up hitchers are generous, kind and compassionate people, every single one with an interesting story or two to share. This has been without fail.
Secondly, you get to meet people you would never ever in a million years meet otherwise, and in someways this was the nicest part about my next 4 hitches.
Following on from this is the third point, that you get to learn things no classroom or book can ever teach. This was especially true of my next lift.
Fourthly, and this is something especially unique to hitching over every other form of travel, is that you get a proper sense of the distance you have travelled, you have to pay attention to where you are all the time, there isn't just a start and an end point to your journey, because you might have to get out at any moment and wait four hours for your next lift, and getting that lift can be hard work, there for you feel every mile is earned.
Finally, and what really struck me after leaving Rebecca was that you reinvent yourself with every ride. Which is both a very tiring thing, but occasionally a really good thing!!!
-Learning Something New-
As I mentioned, you learn alot hitching, and my Lift from Basingstoke to Newbury with Andy a British Airways pilot was fascinating, not only did I learn about the impossibilities of hitching a lift with an airline (but also got some very very useful tips on how I might do it in the future!), it was really interesting to talk about what its like to fly a jumbo, and the power of flying a huge plane that allows you to see the world spread out below you like an over sized atlas.
From Newbury services, I had a drink and didn't even have time to unfurl my sign before a lovely couple offered me a lift all the way to Gatwick! I hope they don't mind me saying I wouldn't have thought they would offer me a lift either, as they had the cleanest, nicest car, with a SatNav system that plotted my route from Instow to Athens! Fortunatly for me, their daughter had hitched from England to Morroco for charity (getting picked up by drug smugglers and nun's on the way... tough record to follow!) and so I managed to elicit some sympathy with my giant high-inducing "charity hitch" sign.
-Meeting Thom-
Finally, with no fanfare at all I arrived at Gatwick Airport, at 15.45, roughly ten hours after I had set out from Instow, pretty pleased with my first day's progress but shattered, I proceeded to build myself a fort out of chairs in Gatwick's arrival lounge and sleep for 3 hours 
whilst waiting for my friend Thom to arrive from Hungary. Thom had just flown back from several days cheap dental work from the mafia dentist's in Budapest, and it was great to have someone to share my day's adventure with as well as to have somebody to hitch with to Amsterdam, whilst i tried to catch up with Al! After a feast of Boots' out of date and consequently heavily reduced chicken cajun wraps, Thom was full of enthusiasm to get hitching, and even after a full day the novelty hadn't yet worn off for me... However we then proceeded to stand outside Gatwick airport for 5 hours trying, unsuccessfully to get a lift to anywhere east, in the hope we could either get to the coast or get to maidstone service station and hitch a lift over the channel. We scored some free coffee of a really nice girl, but no lifts, so we returned to the terminal, and I resigned ourselves to a night in the airport, whilst Thom continued to defiantly get us a lift. 
whilst waiting for my friend Thom to arrive from Hungary. Thom had just flown back from several days cheap dental work from the mafia dentist's in Budapest, and it was great to have someone to share my day's adventure with as well as to have somebody to hitch with to Amsterdam, whilst i tried to catch up with Al! After a feast of Boots' out of date and consequently heavily reduced chicken cajun wraps, Thom was full of enthusiasm to get hitching, and even after a full day the novelty hadn't yet worn off for me... However we then proceeded to stand outside Gatwick airport for 5 hours trying, unsuccessfully to get a lift to anywhere east, in the hope we could either get to the coast or get to maidstone service station and hitch a lift over the channel. We scored some free coffee of a really nice girl, but no lifts, so we returned to the terminal, and I resigned ourselves to a night in the airport, whilst Thom continued to defiantly get us a lift. 
Eventually we were forced to bed down at a restaurant near the toilets in Gatwicks south terminal, as even our pleading charisma found no takers at the easy jet desk....
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