First night out

An unexpected ride arrived when we were planning on setting up camp in Bavaria. A woman and two little girls going to Spain. They didn’t have seats for us but they had a big trunk. Riding in the trunk is lots of fun. It beats the harness hands down.

It was already 20:00 when we started so the plan was to sleep after the French border. I didn’t wait that long. After playing with the girls for two hours, I passed out on a blanket. I can tell you I was pissed when Weirdo woke me up by whistling the Marseillaise. “Aux armes Petit Bibi ! On est en France !” Moron.

To add injury to insult, it was raining. We walked around the gas station twice looking for the customary adjacent forest. There was none. Finally, I told Weirdo to pull the hammock between two trees at the rest area by the truck parking. Nothing like the roar of a truck’s engine to get up in good mood after a night under the rain. Here’s a picture of our campsite in the morning.

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Packing the tarp was so worth it.

It got some insane degree of cold in the night. I had Weirdo put me and my sleeping bag inside his. He never managed to close it afterwards and almost froze to death. Which is a pity, but life is about making tough choices sometimes.

I woke up at 8:30. By 9:30 we were fed, packed and loaded. Let’s see how France fares when it comes to picking up baby-hitchhikers (and their butler).

It took us 3 freaking hours! WTF France? And with German drivers too! I am not impressed.

At least they’re going to Lyon, our mid-term destination. My work here is done. Good time to take a nap.

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It'd be nice if Weirdo could put on some weight. He's not that comfortable.

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Petit Bibi

Petit Bibi

I started this trip when I was 5 month old. By the time it ends, I'll have spent more than half my life on the road.

3 thoughts on “First night out”

  1. what a sweet story I really enjoy reading it and I’m looking forward to hear the rest. you’re a new and probably unreachable world record.

    keep going and take care of the weirdo 🙂

  2. Trop la classe cet auto-stoppeur ! (pas le grand dadais, on est bien d’accord) C’est lĂ  toute la diffĂ©rence entre les auto-stoppeurs de naissance et ceux qui y sont venus sur le tard.

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