A ‘MUY LOCO’ JOURNEY: HITCHHIKING FROM UK TO MOROCCO

 ‘One man practicing kindness in the wilderness is worth all the temples this world pulls’ – jack kerouac

1,200 miles to cover in seven days to reach Morocco and have a week to explore before returning to university. Just one issue, we did not have a car and planned to hitchhike the whole way. Yes. Hitchhiking UK to Morocco. Looks ranged from bewilderment to admiration on the ferry over from Newhaven to Dieppe in France. Yes, hitchhiking. Reactions but no lifts, and right on cue it began to rain as we stood with our thumbs out trying to make eye contact with the many drivers departing the ferry.

Our whiteboard smudged as we tried to keep spirits up. ‘SUD’ became more like ‘SAD’. A bunch of surfers stopped to apologise as they only had one space. Too soon to abandon my companions? Probably, although their surf trip sounded fun. Whereas hitchhiking through Europe to Morocco did not seem so fun anymore. They wished us well and we were left alone again as they drove off into the distance. We experimented with pulling different faces, dancing, standing still and waving, which provoked a few responses, but no-one stopped. We began to realise that hitchhiking may be a little more complicated than we thought.

SKIP TO GENERAL HITCHHIKING TIPS

Soon the port was empty and we debated what to do. Walk into the port town, or wait? This is when Mark and Tia came zooming up, informing us they had debated for several miles whether to pick us up and decided to take a chance. And they were heading to Barcelona, did we want to go all the way? Yes!
Cue two lengthy days travelling through France to Spain by car. We watched France change town by town, city by city, North to South, rain to shine. There were plenty of winery stops and French food consumed as we got to know our companions and their adventurous lives.

Mark and Tia’s kindness extended to putting us in touch with their friend who lived on a houseboat in a port 30 minutes outside of Barcelona. We stayed for two nights, drinking wine from jam jars, making strawberry fondue and homemade pizzas. At night we sat on the roof listening to the buzz of the city from the haven of the rocking boat. Because of this quick progress we spent a day exploring Barcelona’s main sights and beachfront before hitting the road again with equal excitement and hesitation at what was to come our way.

It was a slight shock to say goodbye to Mark and Tia who dropped us on the outskirts of Barcelona, so we had a better chance of hitchhiking success. Several hours passed; a common pattern that we were going to have to get used to after lucking out with our first ride all the way from France in a comfy BMW.  Hitchhiking in Spain was going to be more of a challenge. From here we had short lifts from locals, tourists, couples and families. Some spoke to us, others continued their chats in Spanish with music blaring.

Hope returned. We had a ride in a VW campervan packed full with life, driven by a young musician who graciously took us all the way Alicante. We accidentally gifted him our large foam thumb. Then a dad picked us up in a converted people carrier with the Beatles blaring, and encouraged us to travel as far and widely as possible without getting tied down too soon. We had questionable lifts, where we hesitated before deciding to get in as it felt right: owners of a nightclub with flyers everywhere, and two Polish men in a beat out car with ash sprinkled seats. It was people like this who tended to surprise us, with stories of loss, triumph and change, taking detours on our behalf, making us crease with laughter, checking we had food and wishing us well on our adventure.

The hitchhiking experiences continued. We had a somber businessman drive us several hours to the soundtrack of ‘Gangster’s Paradise’ as the sun set, and we attempted to keep straight faces. Another foreign city greeted us as we said a quick farewell and heartfelt thanks. There was a despondent sadness to these interactions, after brief glimpses into their lives we were as quickly shut out again. A piece of them remained with us, whilst knowing it was extremely unlikely we would see them again, and if we did, would they remember? Sometimes there was relief, after jumping out a car with a bickering couple or family, honoured that they felt so comfortable to honestly  display their lives, but relieved to no longer be the flies on the wall. We soon learnt that hitchhiking is travel intensified, with all the happiness, fear and challenges which accompany it.

We developed a pattern to our days. Get up early to try and catch the lorry drivers hurtling long distances (often unsuccessfully), grab breakfast and a coffee. There tended to be a general agreement of silence and low profile hitchhiking until our first caffeine hit. There was also a shared agreement to accept it when one of us led on the roadside temporarily defeated. Then we would always stop when it was dark and look for accommodation, often with some tapas and vino thrown in. Unusual sights became the norm: a parrot at a petrol station, someone asleep in the back of a pick up truck, an abandoned shopping mall.

At times our tolerance of each other was tested as we alternated between who silently worried. We had a tent as backup, but never had to use it. It was a safety net we clutched at when in the middle of nowhere after being warned that there was crime in the town we just passed. A car once every sporadic hour, but no other life stirred. Instead our voices echoed for miles to be met with silence, as we tried to accept that we may have to sleep on the side of the road.

Kindness often presented itself when our patience wore thin and our hope faded. A mother and son picked us up from a desolate petrol station, as our supply of pan dwindled and our stomachs growled. They drove us to Murcia, bought us tapas and showed us round the Fiestas de la Primavera. It was moments like this when we were jolted back into Spanish life, remembering the rich culture of the country we were in after losing ourselves to the endless roads and lonely plains.

We wandered around intricate cathedrals without knowing their names, wandered around picturesque towns and lonely villages brimming with their own narratives which remained unreadable. We laughed with locals without sharing the language. Often we stood in awe, attempting to make notes to gain some more understanding of what chunk of history was written here. We must research this at a later date. Often these places slipped out of reach, unable to be found again but remaining in our memories. Just like the drivers who graciously transported us across Spain.

‘Muy locos’ became the more common greeting in Southern Spain, whilst our luck dwindled and our limited Spanish was tested. As was our patience as hours ticked by.  The police stopped to check on us and encouraged us to take public transport. After all, hitchhiking in Spain was considered unusual, especially in these parts, unlike France where people did not blink twice, or Northern Spain where it had felt easier.

No thank you. Firstly, where was the bus stop? Secondly, we were stubborn. We had come this far, and despite all its pitfalls we had come to enjoy the hithhiking life. It gifts you with many people, lessons, and experiences. We learnt to throw plans out the window of what city we wanted to stop in, or how far we wanted to go. All we had was a start and end point of hitchhiking UK to Morocco. Everything in-between was up to a fair bit of luck and putting our trust in strangers. After all, when someone offers to take you beyond where you planned, you take it. When someone offers a friendly but brief ride to take you to the next petrol station, you take it. A change of scene after all. Everyday we dove headfirst into the unknown and slowly learnt to embrace it.

Lifts became shorter, sharper but through broken Spanish warmth remained. We were often given looks of sympathy when they drove away from the petrol station or crossroads we were dropped at. Adios. Google maps failing we often had no idea where we were, with no street signs to turn to. The sun was stronger in the south, and beat down off the tarmac as we plodded on to seek good spots. After being dropped in another nondescript town with a faded welcome sign we realised it had been six days and hurriedly looked at our map.

We were close, and debated whether to push on to Tarifa or depart at an earlier port. We turned down a lift that would determine this choice, then kicked ourselves. Hours ticked by but we remained positive, and just as we accepted another day of hitchhiking would be upon us, two men picked us up. It was the most unremarkable lift with no conversation, but we sat glowing with happiness as they took us to the port town of Tarifa. In time for sunset, a wonderful hotel stay, a hearty meal with lively locals and Spanish music.

This final ride allowed us to silently reflect on the past six days. It had been a rollercoaster of utter joy, fear, impatience and adventure. It was testing as friends and as individuals, but it had been worth it. 1,200 miles of changing landscapes, glimpses of culture and history in the most random places, isolation and new friendships, stories and unspoken mysteries.

The people from various walks of life and their kindness linger with me. We agreed to try and hold on to this kindness practice. I always remember how it felt when I pass hitchhikers on roadsides, now experiencing the feeling of the driver, as I decide whether to swing back. Now understanding perhaps why so many passed us despite our attempts to pull at their heartstrings, draw a laugh or a wave.

It was only in the morning after we arrived and wandered through the cobblestone streets of Tarifa with its white-washed walls, warm salty air and blowing palms that it hit us. Ferry tickets purchased, passports stamped, coffee drank. Morocco on the horizon.

Yes, hitchhiking U.K to Morocco. 

We had made it.

GENERAL HITCHHIKING information, tips & points

I have often read comments about how race, age, appearance, destination and sex can influence individual experiences of hitchhiking. This is just my experience of hitchhiking in a group through Europe.

• Check the etiquette of the country you are visiting. Do locals commonly hitchhike? If yes, then you will have a much easier time. Learn the customs for getting a lift. After all, hitchhiking in England will be different from hitchhiking in South America.
• Do you have a time limit? Have a rough idea of how long it could take to cover ground and give some leeway. Before hitchhiking from the UK to Morocco we agreed it would be nice to have seven days in Morocco, but could not guarantee it. We spent some time researching other’s experiences to judge this.
• Is hitchhiking safe? Whether anything is ever 100% ‘safe’ is debatable, but it is important to look at the country you are visiting. Research people’s experiences of hitchhiking and travelling there.
  Obviously if crime is high, locals do not hitchhike or there are other safety concerns do not take the risk.
• Often people will say you are crazy regardless of country, unless they have or know someone who has hitchhiked.
• I was with a girl and a guy. I cannot comment on hitchhiking solo but I felt safe in a group. Consider whether you feel comfortable accepting lifts from a single male or group of men. Dependable on research and country, I would hitchhike alone.
• Learning the local language, and making conversation is useful. Always be wary to keep the conversation on areas you feel are appropriate. If it does go on to personal topics it can be helpful to mention you do have a partner, even if it is a pretend one.
• Following on from that, trust your gut instinct. If it feels wrong, it is wrong so turn it down. Also keep alert during the drive, always be aware and observe your surroundings. Dodgy driver? Do not get in, or make your excuses to stop earlier. Car smells of alcohol or drugs? Avoid. Feigning sickness, or commenting that a tire is flat are good excuses. Do not be afraid to be assertive.
• Common sense is key. Do not hitchhike when tired, dress sensibly, have enough water on you and a tent as backup. Do not rush, a lift will come.
• Have a contact who is aware of your whereabouts (roughly). Send them the license plate numbers if possible. Check in each morning and night. These are simple but effective precautions.
• Other general hitchhiking precautions: Keep your bag with you if possible. Also never put your backpack in the boot before getting into the car. If you are in a group get in at the same time. Have a working mobile phone with useful contacts to hand such as emergency services.
• Some people carry pepper spray on them or another form of defence.
• Approach people at services or petrol stations, as you are in control and can observe them before asking. Families are a good bet. Employers track and do many checks on the lorry drivers they employ. Lorry drivers also do long distances which is handy if you want to cover ground!
• For successful hitchhiking: smile, look relatively clean and keep positive. Many people stopped and said they never usually pick up hitchhikers. However we had made them laugh, or we stuck in their minds so they turned around.
• Head to the outskirts of cities. It is easier here. Pick spots that are safe to stand in, and where cars are driving slow, so can safely pull over. A sign can be helpful.
• Remember that 99.9% of people are friendly, and want to help. Keep aware, take precautions but have faith in humanity.

USEFUL LINKs

GENERAL TIPS, information and hitchhiking community: http://hitchwiki.org/en/Main_Page
information on travelling from spain to morocco by ferry: https://www.directferries.co.uk/frs.htm

more adventures

like it? click on the image below to pin!