Hitchhickers?

I hitchhiked to school once. Sitting in the back of my teacher car getting a lecture on hitchhiking was not the highlight of the trip

MadsL wrote: »

You know that does not mean what you think it means.

I once hitched London to Prague like a boss.

Got a lift from London to Zeebrugge including a slap up meal on the truckers ferry (all food and drink was free)

Walked into the truck stop at Zeebrugge, poured myself a free coffee and asked if anyone was going East.
Where are you heading asks one guy?
Prague.
I'll take you he says.
Great I say, how far east are you going.
I said I'll take you, I'm going through Prague.

Turns out he was a hardcore long-distance driver, London to Istanbul. He used to do London to Iraq before the war. Some great stories out of him.

I'd love to have the guts to do that.

Christ, there's some sheltered darlings in AH today!

I started hitching when I was 16 because I wasn't having my parents drive me round all the time, and public transport in the North-West is abysmal.

I didn't tell my parents because I thought they'd be worried, but when I told them how I got to (insert rural village), I was surprised when they said "Didn't think people did that anymore".

I've picked up a few hitch hikers since I got my license, and they're usually good banter.

The hitch hiker should be more worried about who's picking them up than vice versa.

I often pick up hitch jokers unless I'm in a real rush to get somewhere. When I was growing up my dad would often pick me up with a couple of hitch hikers in the back. I dropped my car to the garage last week and had him pick me up, there were 2 guys in full at gear sitting in the back of the car, their car ha broken down. U never know when you'll need a hand from a stranger

In the late 70s and up till I went to England in the mid 80s I used to hitch everywhere. There wasn't the money for buses and everyone did it. Used to hitch in Dublin during the bus strikes too. Only had two really dodgy experiences. A friend and I hitched from Dublin to Clonmel, to collect my passport, and back to Dublin one summer's day. Arrived back in Dublin at 6pm and decided there was enough time to hitch to her home in Ballinasloe before it got dark.

We made it as far as Athlone and were very pleased to be so close when we got picked up by two guys in a gold Chrysler Alpine (never forgotten the bloody car). They were heading to Galway to some dance and asked us to go along. We refused on the grounds that her parents were expecting us but that we might come along later but they got very insistent. On the outskirts of Ballinsloe she gave me a dig in the ribs, muttered that they'd turned off the main road and at the same time told them to stop messing and to leave us off there. The lad driving laughed and told us that we were going to get what we deserved. They drove us about 15 miles out of the town up byroads and down boreens and finally pulled up in the middle of absolutely nowhere and told us that we should put out or get get. they didn't use that phrase but that was the gist of it. We got out. They drove up the road and we started walking back the way we'd come. A couple of minutes later they sped (is that even a word) back towards us. If we hadn't jumped the ditch they'd have run over us.

We were terrified. Eventually we came to a house and gathered up the courage to knock on the door. Talk about more terror. The whole family came to the door - they were Cletus and Brandine from the Simpsons except there were at least 4 sets of grandparents and had more kids. We felt a bit out of the frying pan into the fire. They gave us lots of funny looks and complicated instructions on the way back to Ballinasloe which was about 13 miles away. We began walking again with dusk closing in. We hadn't listened too well to the instructions because we'd been so tense and nervous. We heard an engine again and panicked that it might be the two in the Chrysler back again but it turned out to be a tractor in a farm yard. We ran towards sound and found a man of about 70 getting out of his tractor. We asked the way to Ballinasloe and he looked at us like we were mad. We explained what had happened and he insisted on driving us back to Ballinasloe. Such a nice man.

Back in the safety of her house we discussed whether we should ring the guards but decided against it in case we had to give names because she'd get into trouble for hitching. She'd told her mother that we'd gotten a lift from a friend. I hope those bastards died in a single car collision before they pulled that stunt again. It didn't put me off hitching though.

People are too afraid to pick up male hitch hikers. Instead they pick up sexy girl hitch hikers, but that's less creepy.

I was in the Italian alps hiking with a friend and the head of the trail we were on was pretty far from where the bus stopped. Hitched a ride with a nice old Italian guy, who I tried to talk to in my broken Italian (I think I managed to say that the mountains were beautiful and that we were students). He stopped at his house and we were just about to thank him and be on our way when he invited us in and poured us each a glass of wine.

I think he was proud of where he lived (he kept comparing it to the city, which he hated), and wanted to show a couple foreigners some good old fashioned Italian hospitality.

I also got a tour of an Italian dam on the same trip from a guy I got a ride from. I tried to make smalltalk by asking what he did (he worked at the dam), and I guess I sounded interested enough to get a full tour.

I've only ever hitchhiked in rural areas, but I've always had good experiences, especially in Italy. I try to be courteous (and smell decent) and don't act like I'm entitled to a ride, and I always have an alternate plan (like a bus). I can understand not wanting to pick up hitchhikers, but don't let a few rude or dangerous ones make you think everyone looking for a ride is some ungrateful bum looking to knife/rape you...

-Tyler

**** no