It is time to recollect some of my hitchhiking experiences and make a nice blog post out of them.
The first thing I realized about blogging, that it takes so much time. I probably won’t exaggerate by saying writing this description of one day of hitchhiking took, well, a whole day. This might be saying much more about me than it is saying about writing, but nonetheless is still quite valid for everyone. I like to work chronologically, so here is day 1 of my trip:
The numbers game
Using google maps I can reconstruct the nett driving time it approximately took, as well as the numbers of kilometres I drove. I can also recollect the starting and ending time of my hitchhiking day and see how many kilometres I advanced in an hour. At this point, some of you are asking themselves, why all the quantification? So if you think that living 6 years in Germany did not influence me, you are completely wrong. Apparently, this is pretty fun now.
This day started pretty tale at 10:30 in front of a gas station in the north of Berlin and ended at 18:30 in Lübek, consisted of 339 km and would have taken 3 and 51 minutes, if a robot was driving through this seemingly random trajectory I drew that day. This robot would drive in a very careful average speed of 88 km/h. This, however, isn’t that interesting like my actual speed which was 42 km/h. So far, this calculation supports my rule of thumb of planning the time of hitchhiking as double the standard driving time of google maps. I, of course, did not advance along the most direct route one can pick when driving in one and the same vehicle to my final destination. Seven different drivers took me to my final stop in the center of Lübek, which means each of my rides carried me 48.5 km on average. This so far has been quite logical, rational and straight forward, in reality, my decision-making process, as well as my advancement towards the north, was quite the opposite of that.
Storytime
Getting out of Berlin was the hardest part of the day as well as one of the hardest sticking points of the whole trip so far. My hitchhiking trip started off with a miserable failure, an attempt to stand between a gas station and in front of a supermarket on one of the exits to the north was costing me more than an hour and a half. Besides some positive reactions from slow drivers and bikers, I got no reason to be hopeful. After the first hour of failed attempted I decided to change the destination on my sign from far-away Hamburg to the third village on the highway – Fehrberlin. This did not improve my results, so I took matters into my own hands and walked some 20 minutes in the direction of the exit to the highway. I positioned myself just before a traffic light and in that way could exchange longer looks with the unlucky drivers who stood to wait for the lights to change. This idea turned out to be fruitful and a man in an SUV stopped and took me to one of the exits of the highway towards Fehrberlin. He wasn’t particularly cheerful or keen on talking but taking me automatically made him kind in my eyes. Of course, this ride happened shortly before I considered giving up and checked the prices for a Blabla-Car somewhere in the direction of Hamburg.
The Autobahn-entrance I found myself in did not look promising. The sun and the heat of Berlin gave way for wind and cold drizzle. Most of the vehicles which entered the highway were trucks with or without wood cargo and all of them dismissed me with the internationally-known downward-pointing-finger sign, which means: where we drive is practically HERE, or as I like to interpretative it sometimes: HERE is where you are going to stay!
This combined with the occasional rain did not feel good. I realized that a sign-change is needed just to get out of that spot. I wrote the nearest village on the sign, and later on – in a manoeuvre of desperation that a dutch hitchhiking friend taught me – just reduced the sign to three characters: 5 KM. This actually helped and after some five minutes, an off-duty policeman drove by and took me to a gas station 40 km from there and saved me from my windy misery.
The new spot was much more cheerful than the previous and at this stage, I allowed myself to munch a bit. Based on some conversations with my last driver I decided to shorten my journey and try to catch a ferry to Denmark from Rostock. With this on my sign, I stood under a light rain with the sun on my face and was eating a bit while losing no time of sign visibility. I attached a string to my hitchhiking sign so I can hang it on my neck when eating or checking my phone.
While I was still eating a car stopped with a man of 60 or so years old as its driver. His voice was weak and rough due to an operation to remove a cancer tumour. He dropped me pretty much in the next rest stop on the highway.
I didn’t change my sign and cheerfully proceed to catch more rides. Now I was sufficiently far away from home and felt that the journey had begun and there is no going back. This was similar to the exciting feeling of jumping in a lake and telling yourself that the water is really quite pleasant while doing excessive movements to stay warm.
A van stopped at the station and a young man took a slow walk from it to the small shop every resting station on the highway has. He was trying to focus on the writing on my sign as he walked, so I advanced slowly towards him holding the sign to make it easy to see. Something about his casual outfit of shorts and sleeveless shirt with a tattoo on the arm made him look friendly. When he saw the signs he moved his head from side to side indicating no-no, but my good mood helped me reply to him: just in the direction…
From there a conversation commenced that revealed they were a filming crew going to Wismar to film a criminal film for a national channel. They were not particularly proud of making it as filmmakers since they described the program as a show for bored retired people. At any rate, I said that Wismar would be just fine for me and decided to change my course back to Lübeck and later on to the Ferry from Puttgarden some 100 km north from there. These guys look very easy going, the kind that probably has nothing against smoking a joint here and there ;).
The filmmakers took me to the very center of the old town in Wismar. Thus I saw a whole town, which I would probably won’t be visiting otherwise. Wismars outskirts reminded me of some areas in Gent in Belgium. Neat rows of two-storied houses were visible from the street we drove. The center looked properly old and cosy. The only disadvantage I could see is that it wasn’t closed to private cars and hence, not the most pedestrian- or cyclist-friendly. I started to notice these things ever since I got to work with Sustainable urban mobility.
After unloading the 30-kg of a backpack I took, I sat down in the center of the Plaza to celebrate my success and eat a sandwich. This I have done as soon as I wrote “Lübeck” on the sign and put in in front of me like a faithful companion facing towards the parking lots. I have not finished my last bite when a man approached me and proclaimed that he would gladly take me to Lübeck. This has probably never happened before, that the sign was attracting my next ride in such a “passive” manner. The kind and very talkative man (if you don’t like talkative people don’t hitchhike 😉 ) was somewhat overweight and this fact was one of the reasons he could not get a specific job in the naval industry. He drove all the way from south Germany for an Interview in Rostock, but his physical condition did not allow him to do some of the more agile tasks the employer demanded. I did my best to listen to his unintelligible accent in German while figuring out my next steps using the usual Google maps and Hitchwiki. Our routs departed at the intersection of A20 and the famous A1, but he was kind enough to take me to the entrance to Lübeck, which Hithwiki recommended.
Lübeck has definitely some good things about it. However, from the perspective of a hitchhiker, I would really like to mention the blackberry bushes with very large berries on them around its highways. The hitchhiking spot next to the western exist form Lübeck to the A1 is very good but it takes a few seconds of crossing a narrow bridge to get to it. Cars are crossing the same bridge quite often, so I had to pick a car-free moment and run for it with my backpack like a terrified turtle.
Previously I just carelessly wrote “Denmark” on my sign. This seemed to be worth it, since a few minutes after a man stopped and took me to a suburb on the way to Travemünde. The problem was, that the ferry from Travemünde goes directly to Sweden and not to Denmark. This in and of itself actually would have saved me some time, but unfortunately would cost me 40 Euros. This does not sound too bad, but if you consider that a flix bus from Berlin to Sweden costs exactly the same, this move would most probably defeat much of the purpose of my hitchhiking trip.
So I crossed the road back to the other side and changed my sign to Lübeck to get back to the spot I came from. It didn’t come to my mind, that to do that I needed to be more specific. A car stopped by with a nice old lady inside. As I tried to tell her my plans, which included moving on to hitchhike to the Ferry from Fehmarn, she immediately showed her cheerful and yet persistent discontent. How could I – while travelling north skip a city like Lübeck? – with its medieval houses and small alleys, home to both Thomas Mann and Günter Grass (pretty much the only two German authors I have read in German) and further praises in such manner. She proceeded to drive me around the old town, which was indeed beautiful and ancient as she promised and explaining to me how lovely the city actually is, pointing to a small festival across the canal. By and by I felt convinced by those arguments, not only that the city looked inviting, but this was also coinciding with good things I heard about it before. And it was 18:30 or 19 in the evening after all, what was the point of getting stuck in some bush in the middle of north Germany or even Denmark for the night? So I decided to spend the night in Lübeck and keep the adventure rolling.
The rest of my trip on day 1 – it was somewhat random.
The lady – a true fan of her hometown dropped me right in the centre and told me a youth hostel would cost 20-something Euro. She obviously was not up to date since the cheapest price was 34 Euro, which was not only too expensive for me but also ridiculous, given the possibility to sail all night to Sweden for 6 Euros more.
– How about using the internet to find some alternatives, I asked.
– That would cost one Euro.
This whole situation reminded me too much of 10 years ago when the accessible Internet was still a rare commodity. There must be another way, I thought and turned my back on that hostel. Someone on the street recommended me to have a beer at the local “Peter Pane” hamburger place and get some internet over there. People were staring as I tried to make my way into the indoor section of the restaurant, which is located in the old town just by the old church. Seeing that there were no electricity sockets around, I asked if they have some WiFi. Yes-but only for one hour was the answer. I started to get tired of all of the attitude of the city and retreated to the playground next to the old church to reassess my options for the night. Two kids were playing there with a sword.
I called a camping place and they said they are fully booked. Another hostel had a similar price tag so I made some abrupt Couchsurfing requests, expecting no positive results. To make matters worse it started to rain. Walking outside of the city and camping in some bush seemed to be the best option at the moment. I took shelter under the upper deck of a playground-ship that was probably the main attraction for kids in the facility. After the rain was over the kids returned. The older one had no sword.
-Do you live here? They asked.
-I hope not. Why do you have no sword?
But the older kid seemed to be ignoring the question, implying thus that he is too old for swords and kept asking about my trip. The whole conversation gave me a feeling of being Snussmumriken (Snufkin) among the other-more settled down creatures out there in the Moomin valley.
All the while I was chatting with a local Couchsurfing member on the “Hangouts” function. His German was pretty bad but he understood my situation and I was eventually invited to stay at his place. However, I needed to wait till12 pm for him to finish his shift in a Shisha (huka, nargila…) bar.
I tried to find his workplace to keep my heavy bag somewhere, but he insisted to meet me at his home. So I set course for exploring the city with 30 kilos on my back. Shortly before I reached the grounds of the famous Duckstein Festival, I sat down to reduce some of that weight and ate some leftovers of Chinese food I brought in a box feeling as homeless as could be on a dark bench in front of the old port. People seemed to be terrified by a man with an oversized backpack walking around the city. Everything but the festival was quite empty after 22:00 in the evening. Fifth of the 250 thousand dwellers of Lübeck live in the old Center according to my last driver, but it was a tuesday and most of them seemed to remain at home.
The festival was nothing new to someone who has been in Germany for 6 years; The regular stands of fried sausages, fancy oven pizzas, beer and wine, sweets of all kinds alongside non edible presents, some popular music and circus performances. The music was nice and the falafel stand smelled very authentic and in line with my best Middle Eastern experiences.
Meanwhile the benevolent host sent me his address. It turned out to be a whole hour of walking from the center.
I started a conversation with a couple of women who looked in their late 20’s or early 30’s. One of them actually lived in Berlin for 8 years and came back to her home town recently. They offered me a glass of Weinschorle which I accepted, thinking it will somewhat ease my upcoming long walk.
We drank the sparkling drink from tall glasses as a live band was playing swing music in a restaurant-tent nearby. Behind us there was a tent with a shop of hippie clothing whose shopkeeper left his post to dance in the pathway. His talented moves made me feel sad that the swing lessons back in Berlin cost some 12 Euros per hour. At this moment I liked Lübeck and forgot all its previous misdeeds. It is the kind of city that may punish travellers without plans. It is definitely worth visiting if you have some money to spend and booked everything in advance. Looking for good WiFi spots can often proves futile. On the other hand the beautiful center, plenty of blackberries and nice people you will encounter will make it much better experience.
Shortly before 23:00 it was time for me, my conversation partners and pretty much the whole street festival to go. I dragged myself and my backpack across the barely lit street leading to the suburbs. It was mostly the same street all the way. I walked onto an exceptionally dark bus station and with the help of a person which took a rest there decided to take the bus. The lady driving the bus was as grumpy as expected, but insisted on letting me out in the correct stop. I found myself at the very end of the built environment of low houses, staring at a few tall buildings of 10 stories or so, standing there like a last minute edition to an already compete city. At first I thought these were student dorms but it seems that the inhabitants were more diverse than mere students.
I could go in through the buildings entrance with the help of someone who took the same bus as me proceeding casually to collapse on the floor of the entrance corredor, occasionally dozing off while waiting for my host.
He came shortly after and let me in his apartment on the 9th floor. He seemed to live alone in the 2-3 room apartment, which had a good view from the balcony to the east including the old city in the distance. The whole situation felt quite awkward since he did not speak very good german and seemingly didn ́t understand why would a sane person go on a hitchhiking tip or even how did I end up in Lübeck. On the other hand, people from the middle east (like I was some years ago) do not often feel much awkwardness, so I assumed It was mostly me feeling it.
In any case he was helpful. I could shower and sleep on a mattress on the floor. Which was all I could ask for. Strong rays of sunlight through the balcony woke us both up as early as 6:30. He had a german class and I had an adventure to catch.
It will make me happy if this turns into a peace of cozy reading for any of you. Please send me here or on Instagram any feedback about the writing and the format itself, or any other thought.
Obviously I managed to write only about one day out of 16, which isn’t a very good ratio if you want to document the whole experience of a hitchhiking trip. I really want to tell the story of the rest of my trip, since it was epic on a few occasions (especially in Norway). Maybe podcasting will be a better option, though it requires some editing. The one thing I did manage to maintain was a stream of Instagram posts and stories even if I lost data connection in multiple spots. Anyway, I liked the concept of blogging in one form or the other while pushing a regular vacation towards something more extreme, so i´m definitely open to doing it again.
See you on the road,
General Awesomeness 