Hitchhiking

I have always enjoyed hitchhiking, partly because it’s a cheap way of getting around and partly because you get to meet all kinds of people.  But the main reason I think I like it is the gambling component.  Will you have to wait two minutes for the next ride, or five hours?  When you do get that ride, will it take you only a hundred yards down the road, or deposit you only a hundred yards from your final destination?   I like the uncertainty and the surprise, good or bad.

Germany - Police

I’d set off from Luxembourg early in the morning and by mid-afternoon was standing by the side of the autobahn somewhere in Germany enduring a long wait.  Inevitably the Polizei in their super-bug, who regularly patrol these freeways, came along, spotted me trying to appear as part of the background, and with lights flashing backed up to where I was standing.

“Es is verboten!” they informed me while extending their thumb in the universal hitchhiking gesture.   My response was to put on the broadest Australian accent I could and say, “Sorry mate, can’t understand a bloody word you’re saying.”  “Verboten!”  “Sorry mate, can’t follow you at all.”  “Verboten!!”  And so on for a while until it was stretching things a bit to pretend any longer that I didn’t understand. 

With a shrug, I shouldered my pack, did a right turn and climbed up over the grassy embankment and off into the fields.  I have no idea where they thought I was going, but as far as they were concerned a lawful command had been given and obeyed and that was the end of it and they beetled off down the road.  Any police officer in Australia would have whipped off down to the next exit and looped around to make another pass by me in the sure and certain knowledge that I would be back hitchhiking in ten minutes.  Though I waited on top of the bank for nearly half an hour for them, the German police never did come back.  No law abiding German citizen would ever willfully disobey their directive, would they? 

But then I was Australian, and thirty minutes later caught my next lift. 

Germany – Cows

Late on the same day it started to become dark, cloudy and cold so I crossed over to the North side of the autobahn (an adventure in itself) and after walking my regulation two hundred paces put up my tent, such as it was which wasn’t very much) in the middle of a very dark Bavarian forest that probably contained wolves.

Somewhere is the early morning it started to rain and life became miserable and wet.  While lying there in my sleeping bag soaking I remembered seeing a small structure of crossed wooden uprights, with hay inside and a roof on top to keep it dry.  Perfect.  So I packed up and moved in and went to sleep.

Just before dawn, I was awakened by the entire herd of cows that inhabited the forest as they arrived to eat breakfast.  I sat on my steadily diminishing straw heap while they pulled it out from under me through the sides, and munched it noisily with much venting of gases from either end.  I wasn’t frightened, just disquieted.  All the same I elected to stay on the inside until later in the morning when the herd wandered off to annoy other tourists, releasing me to wander off and annoy other Germans.  Rude awakenings I have known.  I wish I had a photo.