hitchhiking
Tea, Anyone?
While hitchhiking from St. Petersburg to Moscow, one of our drivers left us in this tiny Russian village along the highway: five small huts with bored women, each supported by a hot, cooking samovar on front. We couldn't stand to not get some tea before continuing.
The food was delicious and after a short break Maria and I continued our way to Moscow. We still had around 500 kilometres ahead of us this afternoon. Just minutes later a small truck stopped, with a reticent driver going all the way to our final destination. Sometimes it is fortunate to make short (tea) breaks, to let that one perfect ride catch you!
Will Ferguson Updated: Winter Hitching in Japan
A ridiculously inexpensive flight from Milan to Tokyo and back, my backpack, a fluent-Japanese-speaking girlfriend wwoofing on a tropical island in southern Japan who is waiting for you (while Europe is buried in snow), and a copy of Will Ferguson's book "Hitching Rides with Buddha" [1]. Pretty much everything you need for setting out for a trip to Japan. And here I go.
Ferguson's book is brilliant. It has all the features that I happen to like in a book: it's well written, funny, educational, useful, it tells a damn true story. I just had to read it before starting my trip, although my timing and the season did not allow me to go all the way to Hokkaido. And by the way, you have to do something during those 12 hours you're forced to sit in the plane, so you'd better have something good to read if you don't want to watch Bruce Willis saving the world for the 348th time on a 10-inch-screen with the audio resolution of a tamagochi. But the book needs some updating. That's why I'm telling you the story of my hitching in Japan.
The Importance of Border Stamps
Still filled with happiness in our hearts from the last ride, we walk up to the Ukrainian border guard. Hmmm, we could have known better. We give him our passports and as he flicks through them he says: "Where is your arrival stamp for the Ukraine?"
"We didn't get one", I answered.
"Impossible", was his simple reply.
A couple of days earlier, while hitching from Moldava into the Ukraine, we ended up in a weird Moldavian transit zone. That's how we didn't get an arrival stamp when we got to the Ukraine, we explain. Apparently this is a big deal in the Ukraine. We got to sit on a wooden bench, while they drank beer, let Moldavians through, and sort of checked out our story.
Summer Solstice Above the Arctic Circle
I was on a mission - I wanted to see the midnight sun as far North as I could make it during its solstice, when the position of the sun reaches its northernmost extreme in the sky
Just 4 days before this event, I was close to Stockholm in Sweden, after getting side-tracked for taking any car along the route from Copenhagen. If I wanted to get really far North, I had to cover a lot of distance, fast. For that you want to ride the E4 highway, that runs through all the towns on this path, if you are to cover distance in Sweden.
Some journeys (thankfully) just don't end.
Here I stood, at a forgotten truck stop, staring out from Poland on to The Czech Republic wondering why, and how. This morning should have been an omen. But I was too eager to leave, to be back on the road.
It all started when I woke up, opened my eyes and things came into focus. I realized I was still here in this same squat that I have been in for the past ten days. I was still sleeping separated from the this dank and dirty floor only by an even danker and dirtier foam mattress. I looked for the time, shit, eleven in the morning, I was already late. Rushing out of the room on the top floor and down to the kitchen I say my awkward English goodbyes. They say "maybe we will see you again," and I rush out the front door.
19 200 Litres Of Jet Fuel
I have just flown from Barcelona to Amsterdam in 60 000 kilos of steel speeding through the sky. It took three hours. When I boarded, it was 28 degrees, when I arrived at my destination: 13 degrees.
My eyes, my skin, my clothes, were all very used to summer sun in Spain. Suddenly, I began to shiver, goose bumps raising the hairs on my body. I needed twice as many layers and my eyes felt scratchy, unused to this dry cold wind.
While in transit, I met two people. The check-in guy who said to me “Tickets please” - and the air-hostess offering me beer with a plastered-on smile.
On such a trip, the community break-downs and unnatural speed means less trust and more health risks. Without even considering the amount of energy unnecessarily consumed.
We Never Shared Names
It costs 29 euro to take the train from Heerlen to Amsterdam, which seems reasonable, especially since I want to support the efficient, comfortable and comprehensive Dutch mass transit system.
But it misses the point - the point which is about radical sharing. And about storytelling. And about dropping social barriers. And about taking useful risks. And about modeling behaviors for a more sustainable future.
I am talking about hitchhiking.
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