After three fantastic days camping with
old friends, I faced the most miserable journey home. Yesterday
evening the fine weather broke and having rained throughout the night
and throughout today, I'm soaked, muddy and desperate for a lift. A
good hitching place doesn't often have any shelter and this is no
exception. I know I look a state and don't really blame those who'd
rather not have me dripping in their car. But it's mid afternoon;
I’ve had my thumb out for almost four hours and have travelled a
measly 20 miles.
The weather is getting worse and the chances of
being seen, let alone getting a lift are becoming increasingly slim.
Then, just as I’d given up hope, a pick-up truck begins to slow down and pull in. Even if he'd only
take me a few miles I’d be happy to get out of the rain, but the
miserable git put me in the back of his pick-up. Ten miles
later he dropped me off at a remote roundabout. I wished I’d
declined the lift when I realised the passing traffic at this location was near zero.
The few cars that did pass weren't stopping, and if i knew the area I'd have walked to a better location. Unlike the traffic, the time slowly passed by and the rain lashed down rapidly. I must
have sat for a good two of three hours when a car not only appeared,
A pretty woman a few years older than
myself, possibly in her early twenties wound down the window and
asked where I was going. I replied and not surprisingly, she wasn't
going that far, but could take me up to junction 6; about 30 miles.
“Well, if you're sure?” I replied half-heartedly, “I am in a
bit of a state.” I added looking down at myself.
“Hop in... it's a bit of banger
anyway.” she smiled, “Put your backpack in the boot.” she said,
opening it remotely.
“Thanks for this.” I said as I
climbed in the passenger seat. “I'm sorry about the state of me...”
I added, drawing her attention my filthy clothing. “...my last lift
was in the back of a builder's pick up.”