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.
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