Stories from the Road: Hitchhiking Memories
Monday, December 16, 2024
After mentioning some of my hitchhiking experiences in earlier posts, I came across this article by Hilary Bradt in The Guardian. In it she talks about her own hitchhiking experiences. At the age of eighty two she has been hitchhiking every decade of her adult life.
While the mind can very easily go to possible dangers of standing beside the road waiting from a lift from a stranger, especially for a loan woman, or for that matter the dangers of picking up a complete stranger, I would argue that such incidents rarely happen. My memory of hitchhiking is the kindness of strangers - conversations shared, drinks offered, a bed for the night, joining a group for a camping trip.
Here’s an example of one such story, for me.
I remember being told by fellow travelers before I started hitchhiking in New Zealand in 1986, that at times they had been offered places to stay for the night from those who had picked them up. Three weeks into my travels I found myself on the ferry from the North Island to the South Island. I was planning on hitching south as soon as the ferry docked. There were a couple of problems with this plan. One, it was late in the day. Second, and probably more worrying, the road started with the ferry. There were a finite number of cars on the ferry, and once they passed me that was it for transportation, apart from a few vehicles connected with people working at the port. If those finite cars passed me, that was it for rides for the day.
The ferry docked. The skies looked ominous, heavy with rain. I started walking to get myself positioned to a place where cars could pull over, sticking my thumb out to let my intentions be known. It started raining. Cars streamed past me. I stopped walking and waited. I was getting wet, not a perfect situation to be in when hitchhiking. Who wants a soaking wet stranger with his bag in their car? I was wondering what to do, thinking of walking back to the buildings by the port. Maybe there was a place to shelter? There was certainly nothing where I was standing.
Then a car pulled over. A middle aged couple inside. They wound down the window. Would I like a ride? They could take me so far, not to my destination though. I had read where accommodation would be available, and that is where I was headed. I thanked them but declined as I felt that that I had no idea where I was being dropped off, it was getting late, and at least I knew what the dock was like! However, they did not drive off at that stage but offered me a place to stay for the night in their home. I couldn’t believe it. It was true. I accepted immediately, and gratefully. When we arrived at their house, they offered me a place to clean up, a warm meal and a comfortable bed for the night.
The next morning they took me to a good place to hitch on from, and many years later when they were visiting the UK, we met up.
Returning to Hilary Bradt
This short follow up to Bradt’s article contains responses to her piece, all from former hitchhikers sharing their experiences from their days on the road.