To start - I never did it quite often due to the fact that I'm the only child in a family and idea of me hitch-hiking made my mom as dodgy on the heart, as me, when she puts record of Andrea Bocelli shuffling on the hi-fi for whole Christmas time.
Of course, I did hitch-hiking not telling her and just going somewhere with my friends, but usually within borders of one country.
So.
It all started in a desperate and quite commonly lonely night in Maribor, when I clicked refresh
for the 50th time on my email browser, while slowly falling asleep, when my friends called me." Hey, we are 3 latvians in Vienna, we are planning to celebrate summer solstice here, so come on! Come, join us! It' s only 200 km drive!"
As I was half asleep and not quite in arguing with overexcited and slightly drunk people, I just said " Yes" and put the phone down. It's such a common thing to quit conversation like this.
Only durring the sleep I finally realised , that challenge had been taken and if I say "No" the next day, I have only proven my fright of becoming sad and old housewife (catwife to be more specific) at damned age of 22!
I was sooooo hoping the morning will brind rain, so I can keep on rotting around Maribor and having an actual and respectable excuse for that, but NO. Sun, circa 30 celsius, so screw that.
I took my jacket and phone, as I was still in a doubt about actually hitting
the road, and just went on a highway.Thumb up. (Now my face expresses a lot of "why" and "wtf" in it, but oh
well. When in Rome...Car. Šentilj. Border. Few steps, thumb up again.
Car 2. Sir talk-a-lot. But a nice guy. Drove me to Graz.
Highway again. Thumb.
Polizei.
"Enšuldigung, ih hette kaine anung". They drove me to petrol station, so I can make my next arrangements about the route to Vienna there. All the way to the petrol station I was thinking about their uniforms - had seen them a lot before. But where. Was it "Komisar Rex" or "Alarm fur Cobra 11"???
Car 3. A silent guy. But drove me to Wiener Neustadt, where I picked my last car - a journalist, which didn't seem that excited about driving me to Vienna, but you know...my puppy eyes.
And withing next minutes also her attitude disappeared and all the rest of the way we spent nicely chit-chatting, and in the end she even drove me to center of Vienna. Great!
Center.Pizza.Mezzo Mix. Wait for a friend.
Tour around the town, took quite a lot of pics specially for my mom.
Still thinking about "Komisar Rex" and "Cobra". Which one, damn it?
p.s. here' s some what I made for me mama.
...the last two pictures my friend took over posing. And those are finally good ones. I keep a high honour of Tony Montana and an elephant.
Shop. Duff beer. Never know this beer actually exist. 2.50 eur, but totally worth it.
Be ready to get Homerized!!!
Soulstice.
Heh. Here are the traditions and how we performed during this sacred pagan celebration.
1. Drink beer - 24 pack + Duff
2. Eat cheese - one small pack. We're EVS and we're poor. And not that into cheese after 3 pizzas.
3. Jump over fire - jumped over few horse poops and lamp in an apartment. Small fun, but still a fun.
4. Search for neverblooming flower of fern with an opposite sex, suposaly a soul-mate -
yes, it was "Komisar Rex" after all, so we kept on searching for him and those famous sausage breads.
5. Wait till the sunrise - nice sunrise by Donav.
Morning. Headache. 5 hourse of sleep. On a train back to my beloved Wiener Neustadt.
Highway. Stepped on a dead hedgehog. Puke. Need a cigarette. No lighter. About to cry vol 1.
Thumb up.
Truck stops.
Haha. Finally I also experienced some nice truck driver. Story is long, but let us say, at the point when he stopped the car in the parking lot with no cars in it saying "pussy", I kinda ran off. Back on autobahn and in a childish hope that NOW some car will stop and take me away. Otherwise I'm royally doomed.
And guess what.
Fast sports car stops, I jump in and we basically FLEW off the damned parking lot.
When the shock and shaking stopped I took a look with whom I'm driving.
You know.
I don't believe in fairy tales, but, I think I kind of met my prince in ... a fast sport's car.
Tan, muscules, snowboard instructor and quite into ska punk music - the same that I play!!!
Yes. Screw the white horse, when you jump onto something like this.
Graz. Thumb up. Nothing. Only another weird guy stopped, but this time I was wise enough to not get into the car. Needless to say this car was later cruising slowly around me for some time.
About to cry vol 2. About to call coordinator of my organisation to fetch me in Graz, because some whacko is onto me, I'm alone, I'm scared, nobody stops, and I just want to be home.
But, as my mom used to say :"Eat the porridge, that you've made".
Putting myself together.
A car with a plate of MB passing by. Screw being normal. Ran in front of it like a desperate person on a desert island surrounded my crazy people, and just stopped it.
Before the last man that drove me from Graz to Maribor let me out in front of my house, he said:
"Girl, you've GOT to be smarter. Listen to your mom. Hitch-hiking alone is not the best decision." He.
Home, coffee, shower, cat.
And finally again it feels so good to be in my same old place, surrounded by same old people in same old town.
Eh.
