”And we’ll hate what we’ve lost but we’ll love what we find.
And I’m feeling fine, we’ve made it to the coastline.”
Nathalie and Patrice, or Nath & Pat, are a couple in their late 40s who hosted me last year through Couschsurfing. They were my 3rd hosts ever through this website, and I really appreciated them hosting me, specially after sleeping on the street in Barcelona…
This year I contact them again, and they directly accept my request to host me again, I’m so happy! We got along very well during the first time, and this is not an exception.
We share and excellent (improvised) dinner with Otaviano, an italian proffesional ex-chef. We listen to music and dance to african rythms.
I go to bed feeling lucky again, and though the end of my trip is coming closer and it’s my last day out of Spain (last country), I feel it’s going to be okay. There’s a time for everything, and now it’s time for me to go back to where I came from: south.
Next day I start hitchhiking at 8h30. After 15 minutes waiting, Paul pulls over. He’s in his 60s and has a good car, but he tells me he’s retired and takes care of his vineyard. He hitchhiked himself and says that he only takes hitchhikers when he’s not with his wife, since she doesn’t like the idea. I remembered all those women who pulled over yesterday. Interesting. We agree: we have to trust people, that’s the only way to make a better world.
He recited some old Spanish texts to me and laughs saying:
– You see? It’s much better to go accompanied. I wouldn’t have recited some Spanish text from my youth had I been alone!
But my big surprise is when Paul tells me I would probably like going to Senegal. AGAIN. I can’t believe it.
Senegal, I will definitely see you soon.
He drops me 50km further, where André pulls over to leave me at the motorway. Sometimes little things will make you happy…
Joan pulls over somewhat later. He’s going to Perpignan! That helps me a lot! He looks very shy, but everything goes fine. He tells me he’s a landscape worker and tells me that the company he works for has imperfections, but he loves his job and he’s been doing it for 2 years and a half. While being in the car I can hear a song I know and the lyrics still sound in my head.
”People help the people
and if you are homesick,
give me your hand and I’ll hold it.”
Only about 200km left until Barcelona, today’s destination.
When Joan drops me at a tollbooth… I think I know that guy who’s hitchhiking! I thank Joan, take my bags and walk towards the guy without believing it. He looks exactly like the one I met in Berlin, first day hitchhiking back in Europe…
But no, it’s not him. It can’t be a coincidence. They were both dressed in a particular suit, a hat on their heads and only travelling with the basics.
I talk to him and we are both going to Barcelona, but he already tried the day before and didn’t get a ride… I decide to trust the Universe and convince myself that we will arrive to Barcelona today. It just has to work out.
And indeed, we do get a ride about 10 minutes later.
Oriane and Arnaud, a very young french couple pull over and take both of us with them. While the couple act all corny, I start a very interesting conversation with Max, the german hitchhiker.
I need to know, so I tell him about the ‘coincidence’ and ask him about the way he is dressed and what he’s doing.
Max explains to me that he follows a tradition: the Wanderjhare (‘Journeyman years’), consisting in setting out on travel for several years after completing apprenticeship as a craftsman. This tradition dates back to medieval times and is still alive in German-speaking countries and France (Compagnons du Tour de France), though nowadays only carpenters have continued it.
In medieval times the apprentice was bound to his master for a number of years. He lived with the master as a member of the household, receiving most or all of his compensation in the form of food and lodging. In some parts of Europe spending time as a journeyman, moving from one town to another to gain experience of different workshops, became an important part of the training of an aspirant master.
The journeyman is required to be unmarried, childless and debt-free, so that those travelling years aren’t used as a way to run away from social obligations. They are also required to wear a specific uniform (which is what caught my attention in the first place) and to present themselves in a clean and friendly manner in public, in order to not be confused with homeless or beggars. The tradition says they have to leave home with about 5€, and come back after 3 years and one day travelling, with exactly the same amount, in order not to squander money nor to store up any riches during the journey, because the only riches should be the experiences. During that time, he/she is not allowed to return within a perimeter of 50 km of his home town.
He tells me that, unfortunately, there’s only about 500 or 600 journeyman left.
After the traffic jam, 80km further we say goodbye to Orianne and Arnaud at a gas station with not much people…
But we get a ride :).
Our last ride of the day is in a truck. The driver is originally from Romania but has been living for 11 years in Spain and speaks fluid Spanish. It feels so weird to speak Spanish again! Specially because now we are in Catalonia, which means they don’t all speak Spanish to you but Catalan instead (and I don’t speak Catalan! :S).
He tells me he doesn’t like Spain because of the people, who aren’t honest and will talk badly about him when he’s not around. He says he has tried to get along but he doesn’t get used to it. He says when he goes back to Romania, something has changed, he doesn’t feel home either and there’s something missing. Nevertheless, he’s trying to look at it positively and believes there’s nothing like the calm way of life Spaniards have.
I guess he has a bit of both countries and can’t have his own perfect country, like most of travellers.
My suggestion: Be the change you want to see in the world.
I tell him to be honest and nice to those people that are ‘against’ him, maybe they will realize that they can look at life from a different angle.
He doesn’t seem to be very convinced though…
We say goodbye in Barcelona, where Max and I have to continue our different paths as well. He’s going to the harbour to see if he can boat-hitchhike until Mallorca, where he hopes to stay for a few months working. I wish him good luck and am very grateful for having met him, I really believe in his lifestyle. He’s going to make it, and to make his life spectacular. He’s probably learning much more than most of the people in that age, sitting in a classroom and studying. Fair winds, Max!
I get a final ride until the city center, which is unbelievable given the place where I am, but a great nice guy from Colombia drops me almost at my exact destination, and I get the chance to see something of Barcelona.
I love it.
Alicia, an old friend from my teenager years in the Canary Islands, is living in Barcelona now and I just found out a few days before! Publishing on Facebook has some advantages ;). We can’t catch up with the years in one night, but now that we know we’re not that far, I really hope to meet her soon again :).
Tomorrow it’s time for me to keep on going if I want to be on time for my sister’s birthday. The last challenge of the trip:
650km hitchhiking, Barcelona-Madrid.
Let’s see how that goes!
Worth the surprise 