Well, the first stage of the journey begins! About 30 hours by boat to Huelva, and then about 1200 kms. hitchhiking to Barcelona.
I spent almost all night awake organizing my (few) things, and left early in the morning with my father and my sister to the station in Los Cristianos, where the bus that took me to the Port of Santa Cruz departed. Little family farewell, picture included, and off we went. Arriving in Santa Cruz did a strategic stop at a supermarket to buy the basics for moreless three days (water, bread, tuna, salami and cheese and some fruit).
The boat trip was great, pretty decent facilities (pool included) and a lot of super nice people. The 30 hours (plus 3 hours late) past really fast between sleeping, eating, watching the Tour de France plus some bad movies and socializing. I met a bunch of hippies, with their dreadlocks, colored clothes, music and good vibes. Some went to the Rainbow Gathering in Alicante, Europe's biggest hippie meeting. Couple of hours before arrival, I began to ask (to those who look more easy going) if someone was going to Barcelona, and after a little one guy who was heading to Valencia agreed to give me a lift, which meant that early on next day I was going to be only 400 kms. away of Barcelona. A very attractive girl had offered to take me to Madrid after spending the night in Huelva. What could be better? Unfortunately it was quite in a hurry to arrive on time and I had to decline the offer ...
We said goodbye to everyone and set to do the 750 kms. awaiting for us. The trip was fantastic, about eight hours of driving almost non-stop, talking about a lot of topics that interested me enough. Laure (that was his name) studied biology, was pretty knowledgeable and a nice person to talk. We arrived to the outskirts of Valencia at about seven in the morning, said goodbye, and now it was time to find someone to give me a lift for the last part, pretty easy down the A7 highway. I indulged myself to the luxury of a strong coffee to stay awake after the sleepless night and after a while I met Pepe, a truck driver who offered to take me about 100 kms. down. At first it seemed a somewhat rough and aggressive character, but after an hour of conversation the picture changed completely. He talked, talked and talked about his life stories, his family and dreams for the future. I loved for once not having to be the one carrying the conversation, what normally happens when hitchhiking, and getting to have a small glimpse into the world of another person, one of the causes why I love to travel this way. Where we parted, I had to walk a couple of miles of beautiful countryside to the nearest service station where I stayed for a while, but as the traffic was not very good I decided to try another point just after a toll that turned out to be much better.
Soon after stopped Damián, who was going to Barcelona on vacation. He was a musician, and I think that seeing my guitar decided him to stop. The talk was quite interesting and he was quite curious about how I travel and how I managed in different situations, and the trip was a pleasure cruising the highway about 150 km/h in the warm Mediterranean sun. I left him in a subway station at noon already in Barcelona, where after a few calls I met my old friend, Ale ...
I spent almost all night awake organizing my (few) things, and left early in the morning with my father and my sister to the station in Los Cristianos, where the bus that took me to the Port of Santa Cruz departed. Little family farewell, picture included, and off we went. Arriving in Santa Cruz did a strategic stop at a supermarket to buy the basics for moreless three days (water, bread, tuna, salami and cheese and some fruit).
The boat trip was great, pretty decent facilities (pool included) and a lot of super nice people. The 30 hours (plus 3 hours late) past really fast between sleeping, eating, watching the Tour de France plus some bad movies and socializing. I met a bunch of hippies, with their dreadlocks, colored clothes, music and good vibes. Some went to the Rainbow Gathering in Alicante, Europe's biggest hippie meeting. Couple of hours before arrival, I began to ask (to those who look more easy going) if someone was going to Barcelona, and after a little one guy who was heading to Valencia agreed to give me a lift, which meant that early on next day I was going to be only 400 kms. away of Barcelona. A very attractive girl had offered to take me to Madrid after spending the night in Huelva. What could be better? Unfortunately it was quite in a hurry to arrive on time and I had to decline the offer ...
We said goodbye to everyone and set to do the 750 kms. awaiting for us. The trip was fantastic, about eight hours of driving almost non-stop, talking about a lot of topics that interested me enough. Laure (that was his name) studied biology, was pretty knowledgeable and a nice person to talk. We arrived to the outskirts of Valencia at about seven in the morning, said goodbye, and now it was time to find someone to give me a lift for the last part, pretty easy down the A7 highway. I indulged myself to the luxury of a strong coffee to stay awake after the sleepless night and after a while I met Pepe, a truck driver who offered to take me about 100 kms. down. At first it seemed a somewhat rough and aggressive character, but after an hour of conversation the picture changed completely. He talked, talked and talked about his life stories, his family and dreams for the future. I loved for once not having to be the one carrying the conversation, what normally happens when hitchhiking, and getting to have a small glimpse into the world of another person, one of the causes why I love to travel this way. Where we parted, I had to walk a couple of miles of beautiful countryside to the nearest service station where I stayed for a while, but as the traffic was not very good I decided to try another point just after a toll that turned out to be much better.
Soon after stopped Damián, who was going to Barcelona on vacation. He was a musician, and I think that seeing my guitar decided him to stop. The talk was quite interesting and he was quite curious about how I travel and how I managed in different situations, and the trip was a pleasure cruising the highway about 150 km/h in the warm Mediterranean sun. I left him in a subway station at noon already in Barcelona, where after a few calls I met my old friend, Ale ...
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