Ho,ho,ho- here we go! Christmas time is coming and before we hitchhike home for Christmas (haha…) we want to present you the first Advent calendar on tramprennen.org! Every day until Christmas (or even longer) we want to present one story about the first time we used the best way to travel: hitchhiking! Have fun with the stories! And you are more than welcome to add your own experience! Just send it to gro.nennerpmart@ofni! Whoop,Whoop!
#1 – Mossa Nova
Mossa Nova , or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the (H)itch
I can taste it. The dust of the street whirling up by cars passing by. Standing next to the gas station somewhere in the Netherlands right after the German border. It was one of those days; those long and hard days, not because of physical action but full of mental effort. Most likely my company through the day is one of the mentionable reasons. A dutch man brought us here and against the will of everybody in his car, he couldn’t repress his affinity to Dutch and German Schlager. 7 hours long.
Additionally a giant is my travel mate. He’s half of 12 year old child and half of a moody bear, combined with an IQ of 120. You could say he is like a box of fertilizer, fruitful ground for the biggest days in your life, but mixed with the wrong ingredients and circumstances he can blow up every second. We call him Ludevicious.
Back to the gas station. I rather would like to tell you that we are standing there just for refilling the fuel. Unfortunately we have a mission. The mission to arrive in Breda, small Dutch town 200 kilometers away. And now we see the dusk. Okay no pressure but we have to hurry a bit. Setting up a grin. I button up my shirt. Pulling the hair out of my face. “ Hallo Sir, can I ask you a question?”. A face without expression is looking at me. “Maybe you drive in the direction of Eindhoven and we can join you for this distance” There it was the expression I missed in the first place: Simple Fear. An intense head shaking was the answer. Not one spoken word.
Why I am doing this? Getting rejected 8 times in a row sucks, especially when you see a person only every 15 minutes. Right now I feel already like an insect, like a bloodsucker, somebody who is taking only advantage of modest and honorable citizen. How can I dare to get them out of their small incognito bubble.
Most of the time I got the same reaction. One step back, the mouth half open for giving a short and quick answer and the eyes going up and down to check this alien, who or which HAS NO CAR!?!?!? A few were nice, but still not nice enough, nevertheless I have to mention it otherwise the bad conscience would take me down and I would lose all my hardly earned hitchhike karma points.
Then it starts. A quiet mumbling getting louder and louder. A scream comes to my ear. Not now. The bomb is exploding. But wait when it comes closer, this guy is not crying, he is cheering.
A rush goes through my body. “ Whats up???” I shout with the breaking and insecure voice of a teenager, only waiting for one sign. Thumb up or Thumb down.
And I love this little sausage, sticking on his hand, showing right up in the sky.
Grabing the bags, our tiny melons,the guitar, fixing the false moustache and running to the car like mother rang the bell on Christmas Eve. I knew it. He is back again.
The Spirit of A Good Hitch.