French backpacker Cedric Rault-Verpre threw “an absolute hissy fit” after waiting four days to be picked up at the New Zealand community of Punakaiki (population: 70). He’s now on bail, accused of throwing rocks at a road sign. And he’s still furieux. “You should change the name to ‘Nazi Zealand’,” he told reporters outside a court.
If Rault-Verpre makes it home and feels moved to thumb again, I can offer him some advice. Because hitchhiking is like a sport, with a set of rules and tactics. I discovered this the hard way when, as a rank amateur, I hitchhiked from London to John O’Groats. I challenge Rault-Verpre to stand in a downpour outside Watford Gap Services, silently pleading with drivers to stop, as the ink runs off his sign in streaks of despair, and not come out of it with a few lessons.
Contain your anger
It is frustrating when people don’t stop. You learn the sign language, from the barely credible: “Look my car’s full otherwise I’d totes stop” to the sympathetic: “Poor you, but also screw you” and – most dispiriting – the not being acknowledged at all. But resentment isn’t going to help. So, turn it into a game. During long waits, I kept a friendly smile while running through the alphabet in my mind, awarding an insult to each arsehole, bastard and – well, you get the idea – who passed me.
Know where to stand
Rault-Verpre reportedly waited on a corner with nowhere for cars to pull over. Schoolboy. Choose a spot far enough ahead of a layby or useful verge for a driver to stop safely. Motorway service stations make this easy (it’s also illegal to thumb on the motorway itself) and rarely has the aroma of burnt Starbucks been so appealing to the bedraggled hitcher in need of the hot blast of a hand dryer on his saturated trousers.
Don’t assume you’ll be killed
There are safer ways to travel. I did fear for my future when a former lorry thief called Alan told me about his adventures in dogging and fondness for Spanish sex workers, as I cowered beside him in his artic cab. But you quickly discover while hitchhiking that it’s generally the nice people who stop. Be nice back and you’ll cherish (most of) the memories.
Eat what you can
A New Zealand cop said Rault-Verpre had not eaten for two days and that hunger “could have contributed to him losing the plot”. Nutrition can be a challenge on the road. I got by on KFC nuggets and the full Ginsters slice range. And when expectations are low, manna can come from unlikely places. The pack of chocolate Hobnobs I ate as I walked from a hostel in Inverness back to the A9 in the early-morning sun still rates one my best breakfasts.
