Subject: [adventure

Subject: [adventure!] Hitch-hiking

Date: 2/11/2004 9:19:23 AM

Two points of interest:

1) Thanks again to Scott, there are more pictures available:

2) There may be an Environmental-ish Challenge starting up soon that you

(yes YOU!) can take part in. Details to follow in future emails, but the

first challenge involved exercises in conservation, reuse-ation, and

poetr-ation.

***

So, I've been wanting to hitch-hike for years, ever since my friend Fritz

hitched across the country (the big big one) to BC. When he got back we

heard the stories of frustration, watching old folks in ridiculously large

mobile homes whizz by, the joy of being picked up just when you think you're

going to have to sleep in a ditch. It sounded ... well, i think what I

probably said at the time was 'cool' but I was thinking something more like

'huh'.

In the town near where I was staying in Southern Spain there is a little

cafe that sells English books[1]. While I was there I read 3 books that I

found there: 'The Life of Pi' by Yann Martel[2]; 'Dirk Gently's Holistic

Detective Agency' by Douglas Adams[3]; and 'Round Ireland with a Fridge' by

Tony Hawks. In the opposite order.

Round Ireland with a Fridge is the true story of the author's trip (based on

a drunken bet) around Ireland carrying a little bar fridge on a cart. It's

a pretty good story. Hawks is a comedian in England whose other claim to

fame is having written a song called 'The Stutter Rap'. While I was reading

the book, I was thinking two things. First, that he seems to really like to

use the word 'alarming' in the same way that Douglas Adams liked to[4]. And

second, that he really makes a big deal about standing around waiting for

cars, stories of frustration, watching old folks in ridiculously large

mobile homes whizz by, the joy of being picked up just when you think you're

going to have to sleep in a ditch.

After talking to some people around Spain, most of whom told me very clearly

that Spain is second only to France in lousiness for hitching, I decided

that I must hitch-hike through Spain and France. In Barcelona I looked on

the internet for information about hitching to Paris. I found a tip for

which street to stand beside. Fantastic! The next morning I would set off

on my hitch-hiking adventure! Well, the next afternoon. I took the metro

out to the recommended street, made myself a sign that said Girona, and

stood on the side of the road. There was an emotional roller-coaster as I

waited and waited on the side of the road.

Somewhere between the third and fourth minutes I took the metro over to the

train station and jumped on the train to Girona. The next morning my

hitch-hiking adventure would begin!

Now, Girona is a magical place. Walking around Girona in the evening,

everything is lit in a certain way that you feel like you are either

dreaming or you have somehow stumbled into some perfect painting.

The day whizzed by like an old person in a Winnebago. I had to stay another

night. Better rest up. In the morning my hitch-hiking adventure would

begin!

When you stay in a youth hostel, sharing a room with 9 other people, you're

not always guaranteed a good night's sleep. That evening though, everyone

was in bed and sleeping quietly (not a snorer in the bunch). Everyone

except one Scottish guy, who showed up pissed to the gills at 2 am. Now,

it's also not uncommon in a youth hostel for your roommates to come home

drunk. Travellers sometimes indulge. However, in this case the level of

intoxication must have been enough for the management downstairs to refuse

him entry. And he was mad.

There was a lot of screaming and yelling and pounding on glass doors. At

one point he yelled something about how 'every *%&-ing person in this

country has the right to freedom!'. It was almost inspirational. Not quite

though. After a while the police showed up quietly and somehow he left

quietly. At least two things were notable about this. First, the police

showed up very quietly, without even turning on the blinky lights on their

cars. Second, the drunk guy left quietly. I kept thinking about how in

North America there would be 15 police cars, each with 100 seperate lights

flashing and spinning, and that the drunk guy would put on a 'COPS'-like

performance, kicking and screaming in toothless fury while the police stood

on his back. I think either the lights of North American police cars induce

fury, or the Spanish police carry some kind of happy pills.

Anyway, the next morning (read: 'afternoon') I decided to start

hitch-hiking! I reached the bus station by 1 pm and was on the bus to Besalu

(a little town about an hour North-West of Girona).

After looking at Besalu's wonderful old stone bridge I walked to the edge of

town in the direction of Figueres (signs said it was 28 kms away), and

looked at the side of the road. It wasn't the best place, but everything I

could see for the next km or two was worse, so I stuck out my thumb. About

50 cars and trucks drove by over the course of about 10 minutes. Everyone

in the cars stared at me with this look on their face that said "what the

hell IS that?!" I started to wonder whether there was an octopus on my head.

I checked. There wasn't.

What was more worrying was that all the truckers made hand gestures at me,

pointing either up or down or making a circular motion. Sadly, all the hand

gestures were in Spanish and not covered by my Ingles-Espanol diccionario.

I was pretty sure they were either telling me this was a bad spot to hitch,

or that there was a Spanish bear right behind me and I should run. Either

way, things were looking bad.

After a quick survey of the bushes behind me (no bear), I decided to walk to

Figueres. What the hell. I like walking, and although my backpack was

still as heavy as a drugged midget wearing a 'nice-guy' beige sweater[5], I

was thankful that he or she was at least remaining calm.

I walked about 10 metres and heard a car coming up behind me so I turned

around and stuck out my thumb. Can't hurt. That's when I got my very first

hitched ride! It was a local guy who was headed home and couldn't take me

all the way to Figueres, but could drop me up the road at a service station

where I might have an easier time. I waited there about 10 minutes,

spending a few minutes in the station, then a few minutes before it, then

walking back to the station. I had no idea where to stand or what I was

doing.

As soon as I gave up and started thinking about walking, I saw this crazy

guy driving up the road in a little red car. He was all over the road,

speeding and swerving. It reminded me of being in Morocco. The drivers

there are nuts. The cab driver I had in Rabat (the capital city of Morocco)

drove right in the middle of the lanes on the white line and passed between

all the other cars who were (stupidly) driving *IN* their lanes.

I sort of stuck my thumb out half way, not sure whether or not I wanted to

get into this car, if he did stop. He slammed on the brakes and came

literally skidding to a stop about 10 metres past me. I ran to the car and

got in. The driver, who was from Rabat, took me all the way to Figures at

top speed, swerving past every other car on the road. When I jumped in, I

didn't have time to put my big pack in the back seat, so it was jammed

betwen me and the dash. I also didn't have time to put on my seatbelt. I

considered what I would like written in my obituary. Something along the

lines of 'Passed away peacefully in Northern Spain when the metal internal

frame of his beloved backpack made a quick pass through his innards'.

Anyway, I made it to Figures, got another ride to La Jonquera (the border

city) and (after a couple of hours waiting there) to Perpignan, where I am

now. This morning I will definitely be hitching to Montpellier. Aw shit,

it's already 3 pm here.

What was my point? Oh yes! I have just given you the details of one day of

hitch-hiking. No doubt you are sitting at your desk at work thinking

'cool', or maybe 'huh'. Unless you are Fritz, in which case maybe you are

saying 'Aw yeah! Go Jay!'. Thanks for the encouragement.

Have fun!

jay

[1] Finding English books in countries where the people speak wierd

'non-English' languages can be hard, unless you really have a hankering for

romance novels.

[2] Find this book immediately!

[3] Find this book eventually!

[4] As in 'The old man approached at an alarmingly slow pace'. I love it.

[5] I bought a 'nice-guy' beige sweater in Girona so that I would look more

pick-up-able. As in 'Hey honey, let's stop and give that nice guy a ride to

France'.