The writer takes a break as he attempts to hitch a ride near Carmila, Australia.
Would I get picked up faster if I shaved, I asked myself, running across a four-lane highway in New South Wales. It was 34 C, I hadn't shaved in seven months, and I was 770 kilometres from where I planned to spend the night.
I arrived in Cairns, Australia, with 35 days until I was set to surprise people back home. The only problem was that I had spent the past six months in Asia, and had practically drained my bank account. I had no choice but to hitchhike to Sydney – 2,783 kilometres away. In Canada, that's similar to the distance from Kamloops to Thunder Bay. Let's just say it seemed shorter in my head.
Whenever I hitchhiked, I would wake up, put my Canada shirt on, and leave my hostel around 7. It never took long to leave a city, or get into one, but the big highways in between could definitely keep me waiting. The thing about hitchhiking is that it's hard to say no. When someone stops, there's a brief window where you're both judging the safety of it all, but you never know when your next ride might come. In this case, if somebody was going five minutes up the road, or five hours, it was always in my best interest to get in.
The road gave me plenty of stories, and there are a few I will never forget.
About two weeks after I arrived, I found myself waiting on the side of the road for more than two hours, feeling desperate. That's when Abe pulled up. I got in, and thanked him for stopping. Isn't it a little dangerous to hitchhike, he asked? I told him it was a series of calculated risks, which is true. Have you heard about the serial killer? Well, in fact I had. If you Google "Australia hitchhiking," "Australia hitchhiking murders" is one of the top results. You can imagine how comforting that was for my mother when I told her what I was doing.
Despite my initial reaction, I got in, and Abe continued talking about the killer for at least 40 minutes. Then he mentioned how the guy never got caught. Abe was driving in a worn-down car to begin with, so I thought, he's the killer and I'm dead. As it turns out, the killer is in jail, but needless to say, I was freaked, and I had my hand on the small knife I carried in my bag just in case. Abe ended up being a decent, funny guy, but we certainly got off to an interesting start.
A couple of weeks later, I was 250 km from Noosa when Bernie and Camilla, a lovely couple in their 70s, pulled over to pick me up. When you're hitchhiking, it's hard to book your accommodations in advance because you never know where you'll end up, so, after talking for an hour, I decided to start calling hostels from the back of their car. Unfortunately, every one was booked. With Bernie and Camilla heading to Brisbane, I wondered if I could go with them, stay a night and backtrack? I politely asked them if that would be allowed. "As long as you're okay stopping for breakfast," Camilla said.
As I was walking into McDonald's 45 minutes later, Camilla stopped me. "Listen, I know what it's like to be a traveller. I hope this helps you get on your way," she said, and handed me a $50 bill. I couldn't believe it. In a series of selfless, genuine acts that I experienced as I hitchhiked through Australia, Bernie and Camilla not only gave me money, but also paid for my breakfast and brought me all the way to Brisbane. Thanks to them, I used that money to get back to Noosa, at no extra cost, and hitchhiked back to Brisbane a few days later. What happened from there? You'll have to ask Melissa, Ray and the 14 other people who helped get me to Sydney.
When you're hitchhiking, you're putting yourself in danger, but I learned that, at the most fundamental level, people are kind. I always asked why people picked me up and there were two common answers: "You don't see a lot of hitchhikers, and we wanted to be a part of it"; and, "You looked like you needed help."
In the five weeks it took me to hitchhike to Sydney, I got picked up by a trucker who put me to work, an Australian sheep shearer, an incredible French couple who visited me in Canada three months later and 27 different people who became a part of one incredible adventure. To all those who picked me up, I made it home and I couldn't have done it without you.