Photo Guy Ackermans Equipped with a backpack full of camping gear, me and a good friend find ourselves at a dodgy petrol station in Nieuwegein. The plan is to hitchhike south, but we leave the exact destination to our third travel companion: fate.
Nervously, we start looking for a first lift. Of course, finding a lift is not a breeze, it requires charisma and perseverance. We throw all our charms into the fray and eventually hook up with Tigo the truck driver. Once raised high above the road, the cheese soufflé-eating trucker introduces us to trucking. Along the way, Tigo signals and honks at every trucker who approaches us, while a red lady’s panties dance merrily above his dashboard. Tigo is on his way to a truckers’ festival, where truckers admired each other’s trucks. In Weert, we say goodbye to Tigo and look for a new lift.
We are turned down again and again, until Wouter the courier puts an end to our suffering. Today Wouter has to deliver a ladder and a small package in Luxembourg City. So he drives five hours south with an (as good as) empty bus and has enough room to take us along as extra cargo. We drive along the mountains and suddenly Wouter shouts ‘the Switzerland of Belgium!’. My travelling companion and I burst into laughter and gaze out over this magnificent landscape.
We are turned down again and again, until Wouter the courier puts an end to our suffering
After delivering the ladder, we get out and are greeted by rich Luxembourg city. When we are just standing by the road with our sign, a tall lady steps up to us with a somewhat posh look and says: ‘How nice that you are hitchhiking. Too bad I can’t take you with me, but here, please do something nice with it’. Stunned, I look at the woman with a twenty note in my left hand. Even before I can put it in my pocket, a balding man addresses us. ‘Hello gentlemen! Why don’t you travel by public transport? After all, it’s free here’.
That afternoon, we reach the beautiful French student city of Nancy comfortably in first class on the train. Over a glass of red wine, we decide to spend that night wild camping on the outskirts of the city. Once our encampment is in place, we crawl under the wool and hear the city slowly fall asleep.
Translated with help of DeepL
Philip Timmers (19) is a second-year bachelor’s student in International Development Studies. He likes gardening and is always up for some fun. He enjoys reading in nature on warm summer days.
