One Week Left: Bratislava

I have one week left here in Bratislava. My Schengen visa is only valid until October 29th, and I would love to hitchhike around a bit before I head on over to the UK. So, if anyone would like to give their input as to what I should see/shouldn’t see, food to try, and other such things, let me know!
This will be a bit of a boring post as not much has happened since I hitched to Budapest and back, not many travelers have been coming through the hostel, so not much to say. However, a certain famous Aussie singer did happen to make an appearance here whist attempting to have a normal Euro trip with three of his buddies! I took them on a pub crawl –and got sung to–before I new who he was.
Anyway, here is what I have planned so far:

It is a bit all over the place, but I may or may not head back to the states from UK, pretty much depending on what is going on, maybe if I miraculously gather enough money to get back…or fall in love with some sort of travel bum like myself, who knows what the next few weeks have in store for me…let alone months. It is a bit exciting not knowing what the future holds, not having any plans, whatsoever, other that a vague map that I may or may not follow…

A “Weekend” In Budapest

Let me start this post off by saying that multiple factors contributed to my emotions on the first day of travel towards Budapest, Hungary from Bratislava…. That being said, I managed to have myself a mental breakdown on the side of the highway, whilst still in Bratislava! Here’s how all of this went down:
It was September 23rd and I was told last minute the night before that I could have the next two days off to run away to Budapest. So, I hadn’t much time to prepare. Multiple things have been going on where I stay that had been causing me a lot of stress lately, and, well, I just wanted the hell out of Bratislava, was that too much to ask for?
So I take a bus to the area one of the owners of my hostel told me to go to to start hitchhiking. I ended up being stuck there for about two hours, still in good spirits, however, it looks like a bad spot, and I cant find anything else near by.
Finally, someone pulls over and picks me up…and takes me to the bus station…the one next to my hostel, so now, I will be back at square one, unless I do something about it. I manage to tell him that I only auto-stop, and have no money for a bus, to take me to a highway. So, he takes me to a different spot, only where he drops me off is RIGHT ON the highway, which is illegal! So I am stuck in practically the worst spot, there is no walking space to head to a different spot, and there inst a different, possibly better spot for 10 kilometers.
Several highway patrol cars pull over to let me know I can’t hitch there, which I already know. I tell them what do I do, what do you expect me to do? One tells me to ride my non existent bike, to…which makes me even more frustrated because he saw that I had no bike, so where would this bike appear from?

I see a back road, and decide to take it to see if it will lead me to an on ramp for the same highway. Instead, it leads me onto a bridge that connects to a different highway that would take me elsewhere. So, I stumble back to my spot.
Keep in mind that I started hitching at 8:30 a.m. that morning, and it was now about 3 p.m. and raining, and all the drivers did was look at me or honk and drive past…This is where I had my mental breakdown…yep, I must have been a sight to behold! I was crying and flipping everyone off, I was so pissed. I had no idea how to get back to town, because I had given up (Budapest is only a 2 to 3 hour drive away, I should have already been there). I wondered what the boys faces would look like, seeing me walk in drenched, still not picked up, obviously, and crying. I’m sure they would decide I was making a bigger deal out of it than needed, but this is a six month build up of emotion. I never broke down after all that had happened in Istanbul, it was bound to come out sooner or later…
As I am throwing everyone “the bird,” a trucker pulls over. He is from Macedonia, and gives me a bit of an uneasy feeling, but I look past it because I just want out of that horrible spot (back in Austria during the time I was stuck for 24 hours at a spot, I still managed to have high spirits).
The trucker stops at a station right past the Slovakia/Hungary border. He has me move something out of the center console area where there is empty space, and in broken English says “I have to be here 15 minutes before I can get on the road again. We have sex for 10 minutes, and be done, then on our way.” I grabbed my stuff, and literally ran out of the truck, him yelling after me that he didn’t mean it, he was kidding…SUUUURRRREEEE!
I soon got picked up by another person who took me to the outer ring of Budapest. I walked up towards the highway to see about how I can get into the city, when I see two policemen pulled over, with a speeding camera. I inquire about how to get into Budapest, and find that it is a three kilometer walk along the highway to the nearest off ramp. I ask if I can walk it and they say it is forbidden. So I head back towards the gas station.
I begin shoving my thumb out to anyone who may be willing to stop, and many pull over to let me know I should be on the other side of the highway to get into Budapest. The problem is, there is a concrete fence between both sides, so how can I cross? The response I get is annoying: well, you have to be on the other side, so stop trying to get picked up.
Utter frustration!
Finally, the traffic police take pity, and find someone to give me a lift into the inner ring towards Budapest. I hop a bus from there and finally make it to the Loft Hostel…at 7 p.m.
I relax the rest of the night, after a day full of nonsense, and head out the next morning to explore the city. I see all there is to see (for free) including the cave church who allowed me in even when I found that I wasn’t carrying enough money to get in.

This day was uneventful, and I was extremely happy for that! But to think about hitching back to Bratislava caused me a bit of anxiety!

Its the morning of the 25th, and I am dreading the hitch home. I know that I have to stay positive, because the one time I didn’t stay positive, horrible things kept happening, so, with a smile on my face, I hop on and off random buses until I somehow, miraculously find the correct spot to start hitching.
I stand in the perfect spot when a car pulls up, and a woman climbs out of the car with her things. She walks up and asks how the hitching has been going, which is non existent yet. We get to talking, and I find that she is German/Hungarian, a photographer, and a lone female hitcher like me! After a few lifts, and some goofy playing around at random hitching spots (we took photos and made a flower bracelet while drinking beer), we separated just outside of Bratislava.

I made it back to the hostel I work at at about 7:30 p.m., which was perfect, because I had to start my shift at 8 p.m.

A Ride Out of Hallein

I sat at my normal spot for another four hours. Waiting for anyone, hoping to just get out of Austria, at least out of the area I was stuck in near Salzburg, when finally, a woman pulled over, and walked up to me.
She apologized for not having picked me up sooner, and told me about how she had seen me 45 minutes earlier and decided that she would pick me up f I was still at my spot. I was grateful regardless, extremely happy to be able to speak to someone who spoke great English. She told me the only reason she picked me up: I, in a desperate attempt to make me look human, and not some random thing, had written “I’m from Alaska, please get me to Vienna.” on my sign…She had just dropped off her nephew off at the mountain…and he is from Alaska, in fact, an Alaskan State Trooper! She took me home and set up a bed for me to sleep in.
At about 2 p.m. I woke up to the smell of fresh strudel pulled out of the oven, and a nice cup of thick coffee, heaven! I looked about the home, which was immaculate! I wouldn’t believe this home! It looked directly out of a magazine, and the view from outside…WOW!
The woman had to pick up her nephew from the mountain, so I jumped in with her and we picked him up, he was quite shocked to see the Alaskan hitchhiker in the front seat! We headed to a restaurant and he bought me a quick meal, then we headed back to the home, where I was shown a German book about Alaska. I began to flip through the pages, and felt a bit homesick, so I stopped and began looking about the garden in the back yard.

At about 5 p.m. we headed towards Vienna, as the uncle and Nephew would be heading 30 kilometers before Vienna. They stopped down a side road to show me a castle, then dropped me at a gas station. I sat there wondering where I might sleep that night, as it was now about 8 p.m. and the sun was setting. Soon, cars began pulling over to pick me up, but my hitcher’s mind jumped in. I knew I was supposed to go with a particular car, I just didn’t know which, but I knew that I would know when I happened upon it.
Who knew the car I was meant to be in was a white van full of Polish construction workers? We drove into Vienna at about 11 p.m. and they offered me a place to sleep. Whilst on the way to their “friends’” home that I would sleep at, “Born In the U.S.A.” came on the radio…so there I was, Screaming “Born In the U.S.A.” with five Polish construction workers while driving down the road in Vienna, Austria. Still to this day I laugh about that scenario!
We arrived at a dark home on a hill overlooking the city. One of the men went to switch the light on, but it didn’t seem to be working; it wasn’t until I really entered into the home that I would see what was going on.
They lit up the room with their phones, the empty, dark, cold, in-the-process of being constructed room…this was not a friends’ home, but one that they were in the process of building. I didn’t say anything about it, I was just thankful for a place to sleep.
There were two couches. I slept on a leather futon that was placed in one room, and the boys placed the cushions of the other couch on top of me as a sort of “blanket.” I froze the whole night, but felt safe, and that was all that mattered.

View from the home the construction workers took me to sleep at.

All of the sudden, it was 5 a.m., which meant it was time to leave. The Polish boys dropped me off at the train station and gave me 7.70 Euro for a bus ticket to Bratislava, Slovakia, which was my real destination.
I arrived at the Wild Elephants hostel here in Old Town Bratislava at about 10 a.m. They showed me a room, and without any time to talk, I crashed on the bed for about 18 hours, I could finally let my guard down, finally really get some good solid rest without interruption, I was out!

Stuck In Hallein, Austria

During the 24 hours that I was stuck in Hallein, several interesting things happened:
First, I noticed that no one will pick you up, the only response one tends to get from people are teenage boys yelling stupid things out of the window, and quite a few did this, they must have thought they were so clever!
Second, the gas station in this area is cold, everything in this area is cold, I just came out of Italy, where it was boiling hot, to a place that froze my ass off, and yes, I know we are in the mountains now, but really, that much of a climate change?!
Third, do try to walk through a slightly inclining ditch after a slight rain; I managed to slip down the incline into some trees while twisting my knee under myself and slamming down, with 50 extra pounds on my back. I lost a flip flop, and upon retrieving it, felt something gooey under my foot when I put it on: a giant slug! I was stuck in an awkward position for about an hour, feeling like I had torn something in my knee (which continued to hurt for the next month), but also feeling like a dumb-ass, I just biffed it within a 20 foot radius of teenagers at McDonald’s who where standing outside…laughing….at least I was laughing at myself as well!
Fourth, asking the gas station clerk were the train station was (I was going to sleep there as this was my first time without a real place to sleep) was a complete mistake. She gave me directions, in the middle of the night, to a tram stop, where, obviously, trams don’t run in the middle of the night!
So, there I was, stuck near the tram stop with nowhere to go, as many layers of clothes on as possible, in the middle of the night. This is when I run into a Turkish man and his teenage son. Using the son’s phone to translate, they ask me why I don’t get a hotel…well, you know, if I had money, I would! So the father offers that they will pay for a hotel room for me for the night, not expecting anything in return. So I follow them through the empty streets at night…
In my head there were several different thoughts at this point. Why am I being so stupid, I don’t know these people, they could do something horrible to me, sell me, kill me, rape me…and god knows what the other possibilities are! But I am still walking with them,
no matter how much all this negative stuff is rolling through my mind, I still follow. I guess you can say, I didn’t get a bad vibe from them, that I guess I was putting all my trust into God that nothing bad would happen, and I was prepared that if something did happen, it was meant to be, and something good could possibly come of it, no matter how horrible the situation…
Turns out, the hotel they tried taking me to didn’t have night reception, so the door was locked, but there were tables outside under a canopy, which I began thinking about sleeping under, why not? That’s when I tell them, I have to sleep, I don’t care where, even if its the backseat of a car! So the father disappears, and comes back with his car, I am in luck! I get into the back seat, and he has brought me a warm blanket, within minutes, I am out!
About three hours la
ter (7 a.m.) I am woken up by a car door slamming. The father’s friend, whom I met the night before, decided to use my situation to his advantage, and of course, he doesn’t speak English, but he has the kid’s phone to translate. He is startled that I immediately sit up and start asking questions, practically flipping out on him until he pulls over, which to my luck, is at the gas station I was stuck at the previous night!

I managed to find this photo of the same spot I was at in Hallein, Austria. This was taken from the parking lot at the gas station.

He types into the translator, and hands me the phone, which says ” I am trying to break the ice.” I immediately flipped out, throwing curses in Turkish. BREAK THE ICE?! What ice? I am a hitch hiker who was trying to sleep! You are an old man that doesn’t speak English! you got into the car to drive off with me in the back seat, and you weren’t expecting me to wake up so easily! So, what were your plans? What were you going to do with me?! He hands me a pastry and a big bottle of water, I take it, and walk o
ut of the car toward the gas station for coffee. I am pissed off, not only has he taken sleep from me and attempted to do God knows what, but he has also denied me an extra days’ rest, as the father had promised to get me a room for the next night so I could relax and get rest.
So, after grabbing my coffee, I wonder off past the ditch I managed to twist myself up in the previous night, towards my horrible little standing spot, my Purgatory, where I would stand for at least another four hours.

Hitcher's Purgatory

Hitchhiking out of Munich took quite some time. I stood for about four hours, all the while being attacked by ferocious ants, which I’m sure made me look crazy. I paced up an down a road that headed towards the highway, and when I put my stuff down, I realized that within seconds, it would be covered in ants, for whatever reason.
I soon had ants climbing up and down my pants legs, my arms, my pack, and frustration ensued! I learned quickly that the only way to keep so many ants off of me, I would have to walk and kind of do a “dance,” which I’m sure kept me from getting a sooner ride.
The sun is setting, and I’m thinking I should just go back to the house that I had been staying at, and try in the morning. (Notice a pattern here?) Instead, I decide to stick it out, and finally, a woman pulled over and offered me an hour ride towards Salzburg, Austria. As she dropped me at the gas station along the highway, she handed me peanuts, and let me know I would have no problem getting picked up here, as it seemed to have hitchers quite often.
I began putting my things from her car onto the ground, when a car was already pulling over for me. I get in and learn that these are two Iraqi guys, heading to Croatia. They learn that I am American, but I also throw in a few Arabic words in there, to let them know what kind of American I am. They were extremely happy, and decided to pull over at the next gas station for whatever reason. When the driver got back in the car, he threw a handful of chocolate bars and an ice cream at me, they were happy to find an open minded American.
Soon, they began asking me if I would go to Croatia with them, but as I had already been there, I declined. They were such hilarious characters, as I have noticed most Iraqis to be, cracking jokes, always laughing, high spirited people, which is what drew me to them back when I was 19. (That’s another story.)
They dropped me in a small place outside of Salzburg called Hallein, which to me, would soon be dubbed “Hitchhiker’s Purgatory.” I would be stuck in this area for the next 24 hours!

My hitching spot that I was stuck at for about 24 hours

Untitled On Purpose

I feel like the luckiest person in the world, and I don’t know how to explain why…I have no solid place to go, no solid person for me to rest my head on their shoulder, no family I can rely on. Out of five siblings, I have one sister that cares…I guess that is just the way I was brought up, the reason all of us kids are so separated from one another. My family doesn’t know to what extent my problems were/are over here in Europe, and I may never tell them, based simply on the fact that in some way or another, it will get twisted against me, or against foreigners, because, as you know, most Americans think their country is the best, without ever throwing themselves out there into other cultures to explore. I have had horrible experiences, but I have also had amazing experiences, that time and again make me realize that I would gladly go through everything all over again, as long as I get back to that one moment…I have experienced things I never thought I would, things I would never have done if I was in the United States.
I have the urge to do something I have never done constantly. I am more sure about myself than ever, I have better self esteem, and I know what I want out of this life. I don’t care how poor I am, I just want to live, to have a happy life, if I’m not happy, its time to move on…

I am at peace with the fact that I have no money to get back to the United States…that it may take me another year to get back, and maybe this is a good thing. I have to make the best out of what I have been given, because there are no other options, but I feel like I have been given the best. I laugh about things that would make normal people anxious, I laugh at our creative hostel meals that we always seem to be able to put together, I laugh because I can’t imagine life any other way, I live as free as possible, the world always has its ways of giving to you when you are in need.
I managed to be able to get some boots for this coming winter, a jacket, sweaters….all I really need to keep me warm, and I’m happy…I don’t know where I will be in one month or less, I don’t know what my situation will be, I don’t have anything that I don’t need…but I’m happy, the happiest I have ever been, I feel completely at peace with everything in my life…I feel like I have reached something that is little known to be attainable..

Europe On Empty Pockets; My Philosophy

So, in my last post, I said that I would explain how I am getting about and my whole philosophy about my travels, so here it goes.
If you read back to about my 4th post and on, you will see why I ended up with empty pockets, and the situation I got myself into. When I first got out of the situation and began work at the hostel in Istanbul, I became desperate to get enough money for a ticket back to the states (my home is in Alaska, so it generally costs about $1,500). In Turkey, at the hostel, gathering this kind of money together in one month (which was all I had left on my visa) was impossible, and the more aware I became of this, the more I began to worry.
Thank God my job was at a hostel! If it hadn’t been for the many travelers that came through there, encouraging me, I would have never had the guts to do what I am doing now, that is traveling alone, practically care free. After talking to quite a few people, I realized that I too could be apart of the traveling community, so I began deciding how to go about traveling. I knew it would be trying, it would be difficult, and there would most definitely be snags on the way, but I knew that it would be worth it!
I left Turkey just a couple days short of my visa expiring, and headed towards Bulgaria, then on to Romania. I did a month in Romania at a hostel in Bucharest, then realized this was going to be the beginning of a whole new adventure, unattached from my previous travels, as previously, I was using public transportation.
I left Romania on a train to Belgrade, Serbia (Romania doesn’t have highways, so it would have been a horrible issue getting out) which took all night and into early afternoon.
Its amazing when I think back to the day I arrived in Serbia. I was aware that I would be hitch hiking when I arrived there, but for some reason, my brain hadn’t
quite processed it all. Even as I was on the train, it was as if everything was normal, that I had a known destination, and no real story ahead of me. I don’t think it even really hit me until I was up on the highway, putting my thumb out for the first time. I just got off the train and began walking with no particular direction in mind, it was as if my mind already knew where exactly to go, and that everything would work out, and it did!
When I began hitchhiking in Serbia, I had no money in my pockets. No money for food, or water, I knew that my own government wouldn’t help, but that strangers might, and this is where I began to create a reason for all of this in my mind.
I learned to depend on complete strangers to get me to places I had never been to, often these strangers did not speak any English, I depended on them for food, and a roof over my head at night. You may be thinking that this is wrong, and it would be if I was in a situation that I actually had money. But, here’s where my philosophy comes in: By helping someone in need, whether that person knows it or
not, they are performing a charity of sorts, and if you believe in Karma, that means great things will come out of their helpfulness. In return, when I am in the situation to help others, I do; things always come full circle, whether you believe it or not.

The hostel boys and I after a local wine and duck festival in Bratislava, Slovakia

So, I am traveling Europe, having great/interesting experiences, and I have no money, just my pack, my tent, and my ridiculously heavy computer that is falling to pieces. I am depending on the kindness of strangers, and volunteering at hostels; I am creating life long memories, and making my soul appointments. I know that no matter what happens, good or bad, everything ALWAYS works out in the end, it has to, there is no way around it, the only way things don’t work out is to die, and even then, I will be happy with what life I have been given.
In short, I am ridiculously happy with my life…

Munich On Accident

So, hitchhiking has been fun, and although everyone inhales quite quickly when they hear that I do it alone, well, that is part of the fun as well! I will get on more about the reactions, how I survive, and my traveling philosophy soon, in another post.
So, on about August 9th, I decided to head out of Venice. (I had begun to notice a couple of sketchy figures that seemed to happen to be everywhere I happened to be, including another island…but that’s another story) It was about 5:30 p.m. when I decided not to stay one more night, which really wasn’t a great idea, in theory, I should have just stayed that last night, then headed out in the morning. It seemed, though, that multiple things seemed to kind of catapult me out…
1. The sketchy men
2. The lightening storm from the previous night had made me question if I really was listening in school when we learned about how lightening works, and wondering if I was going to be struck out on account of my famous “good luck.”
3. I was becoming attached to Venice, and was thinking about looking for hostel work,
4. I woke up that morning soaked in half a bottle of Prosecco that I had forgotten about, with the song “Red Red Wine” stuck in my head; maybe I was too alone?
So at the moment I decided to run off and continue on my journey towards Vienna, Austria, I began to pack my stuff up. I jammed Ol’ Blue into its small tent pack, and headed on, looking back at my beautiful beach. I jumped on bus B to the ferry harbor, then headed straight for the mainland.
When I got to the mainland, I reached an awkward point in the road, one that hitchhikers would understand…not quite a highway, but no where to pull over, and too “populated,” if you can believe it. I saw a Bangladeshi man in a car pulled over near where I was, and watched as his wife and kids climbed out of the car. Figuring I should just ask how far the actual entry point to the highway is, I walked up, and did just that.
Mr. Bangladesh said it was close but too far to walk, so he offered me a ride…this was the one and only time I felt a small “ping” in the back of my head, I hadn’t experienced this “ping” yet, so I couldn’t quite put my finger on it yet. I would quickly find out though, as withing one minute, he said he “had a proposal.” Enter “ping ping ping” in the back of my head here, as well as crawling skin. He offered 300 Euros if I would sleep with him…I pretty much puked in my mouth right then and there, yelled “Stop this mother f***ing car, RIGHT NOW.” and as I was getting out of the car, he said “you know, you are really ugly, you aren’t worth that much, I was just trying to be nice.” Holy EWWWW! No way would I ever degrade myself and my body for money, no matter how poor I am!
At this point I’m thinking what a lovely start I am having this evening, and that I should really just turn my ass around and go back to my beach for one more night. If I was smart, I probably should have done that, but the end result of this night would deem to be quite interesting, although it would take me off what course I had planned a few hours earlier in my head.
As I walked along the quickly darkening road, I spotted a tiny red car pulled over, it obviously wasn’t pulled over for me though, so I put my things down and sat on Ol’ Blue. A man, whom I later learned was from Nigeria, was lost and trying to find out which way to get to Udine, which was what my sign said, as it was on my way to Vienna. He seemed to think that driving back in the mess of things towards Venice was correct, and I repeatedly had to tell him, its just a dead end, back to Venice, how does he expect to get to Udine driving into the ocean?! He though I was crazy when I said this to him, but I was looking at him as he was the crazy one.
He thanks me for the directions towards Udine, then gets into his car, then steps back out in a few moments. He walks up and says his “wife and child” are in the car, and that they could manage to squeeze me in if I was willing to be cramped up, at least to the Austrian border. I figure, why not, there is a woman and a baby, and its getting dark, and well, why not?
We begin driving and realize we have to go through Verona, Italy to get out to the highway they are looking for, so we head away from Udine. I find out that they live in Munich, Germany, and am quickly asked about how “heavy my pockets are.” I’m a hitchhiker, do you think a lone woman would hitchhike if her pockets were heavy?! I said my pockets don’t exist, because, in all reality, they don’t.
Apparently, because of getting lost, they have run out of money for gas and the highway fees, which will amount to 50 Euro. I feel bad because they have a child in the car, its raining now, and dark…and I just happened to only have 50 Euro. I figured I wasn't supposed to have the 50 Euro to begin with, so why not give it to a good cause, they are helping me, I can help them, and if I don’t get the money back it will be okay, I survived this long without a dime, why do I need money now? So I handed everything in my pocket over. The man promised to take me back to Munich, Germany, pay me back after I rested at their place, then I could be on my way to Vienna, Austria.
That was my first time on the Autobahn…bad headlights, horrible driver, rain, pitch black, and my car sickness, on top of the fact that I was smashed in and had anxiety because I couldn’t see the road. I vowed to myself that I would only go on the Autobahn again as long as it was daytime.

My walk around Munich, Germany. (Aug. 12th, 2013)

I stayed at the home until the morning of the 13th on August. I decided it was time to head off again, and as I was getting tired of traveling for the moment, always wondering where I would sleep, and how I would eat each day, it was time for me to settle a bit, at a hostel I had been in contact with back when I was still in Romania. This hostel was located in Bratislava, Slovakia.
Before I left Munich, I wanted to see Dachau Concentration Camp, so with all my things packed on my body, I walked the 2 kilometers to the S-Bahn, heading to Dachau. I got to Dachau, and, of course I was not allowed to set my bags anywhere, so there I was with about 50 lbs packed on my back, front, and in hand (my effing laptop is ridiculously heavy) walking about the entire camp for the next four hours.

“Arbeicht Macht Frei” “Work Makes You Free”

After my walking about Dachau, I headed to the Autobahn…

Venice! (Finally There!)

So, Its now about 1:30 a.m. and I find the dock where the ferries take off. I Hop on a ferry, and hope that something will come along fast, as I have no plan on where to stay, or where to go, the boat operator knows as much, after questioning me at the docks for whatever reason.
So I jump on, tapping my fingers, nervous, because up to this point, I have always relied on the fact that it will work out no matter what…As I am admiring the stillness (the streets are empty), and the lit up architecture, I hear two voices on the boat. One clearly American, one French.
As it turns out, the French guy lives on an island called Lido; he actually owns a B&B, and gives tours to his guests, which happen to include an American woman from New York. I ask him if he knows any hostels around, and the price, the cheapest one in the area during high season is about 60 Euro. He notices that I am carrying a tent, realizes that I don’t much care where I sleep, as long as its somewhere, and lets me know of an “unofficial” camping spot.
We get off the ferry, and into his car, on the way, he takes us for a few drinks…my first taste of Prosecco! He then takes me to an empty beach, a wildlife sanctuary of sorts, and since I don’t litter, and won’t be making a fire, we assume it will be fine, as some people camp in the area already. So in the pitch black, I set up Ol’Blue, my tent.

My tent on Lido

I awake the next morning at what I assume is about 8 a.m. based on the sun (yes, I taught myself this on my travels), and began walking the beach. I had the beach all to myself, complete quiet, peace, clear waves along the sand. I stood knee-deep in the water, it was warm, and I felt an utter happiness, one that I seem to get quite often now that I am traveling.

8 a.m. waves outside my tent

After about 20 minutes standing in the water, reflecting on me good fortune, I decided to head in to Venice. I got ready for the day, and took bus B to the water port, and headed on in. This was my first time seeing Venice in the daylight, and it was just as amazing! Startling architecture entwined in colors, the venders selling Venetian masks, the smell of food and sea water…this was it, this was my SUPREME happiness, my supreme love of life. This is what I had gone through everything bad in my life for…and I would gladly go through it all again, just to reach this point, had I known this would be my destination!

On to Venice: Part 2

So in my last post about hitch hiking, I stopped in a field, having, of course, thoughts about my life decisions. It was in this spot that I was picked up by a couple of Italian “doctors.” I still don’t now if I believe that story. Anyway, they picked me up and straight away took me to get food at some little restaurant on the side of the road.
At the beginning of the meal, there were just the three of us, but by the end of the meal, it seems as though everyone in a 10 mile radius knows them, as the table is now crowded with about 20 of us. They order me meat and potatoes, good, because that is what kind of girl I am! Then, another plate comes…then another, and yet, another…three plates of food, 3 shots of espresso, and a quarter of a watermelon later (I didn’t want to be rude, they were just throwing plates of food at me, which seems to be Italian hospitality) I was ready to pass out. At this time it was 5 p.m., so I knew I needed to find a good ride soon if these two were going to drop  me at the road again.

So, this is when they offer me a place to nap, maybe spend the night, see the beach, then take me to the highway in the morning. Of course I accept, and they end up taking me off course a few kilometers…to a small beach town called “Lido Di Nazioni.”
I slept most of the day, the family I was dropped off with (the “doctors” had to be at work) attempted to take me out that night, but to no avail, I was too groggy. The next day, I was planning on being at the highway in the morning, but there was no ride from this small town to the highway, and as it was nearing 7 p.m., I began to worry, and was about to accept another nights stay, however, there was a ride to the highway now, and the next day, I would have the same situation, leaving at 7 p.m.
I was dropped off ON the Autostratta, which, it is illegal to autostop there, but seeing as I had no option, I held up my “Venezia” sign.
I gave it about 30 minutes, all the while, looking for a place to set up my tent just in case, and here comes a car. As this car slowly reached me, I realized it was Italian Polizia…hmmmmm…..
They told me there was no autostopping, and I told them I knew, but it was not my fault I was dropped there, so, the police took me 15 k to the next gas station/truck stop…by this time I was outside of Ferrara, Italy.
It is now almost 9 p.m., and getting dark fast. I try to hitch several times out of the station, but had no luck. I realized that this may be the first night I have no where to sleep, so I began asking if I can set up my tent behind the station…apparently, its not allowed. So, I began to search, in vain, for a female trucker who may allow me to sleep in her truck for the night.
I finally stumbled upon a promising, out of the way spot, where no one would see me, yet it would be safe: huddled behind a small *clean* garbage can…my God, I cannot believe I was ready for this! So, as I attempted to nap, something told me to stand up and walk towards the pumps with my sign, so I did just that.
At about 12 a.m. on about on August 8th, I was finally picked up to head towards Venice. The people that picked me up were and interesting few, made of a young mother, who’s son was 18 and was obsessed with retro cameras and “The Doors,” and the mother’s boyfriend, who was driving, and spoke the most English.
I entered the port near Venice about 1 a.m. as the family was blasting Rammstein through unrolled windows.