A Pair of Hitchhikers

Before leaving the hostel that morning, I take a piece of cardboard from the recycling that we can use to make a sign with our destination.

We ask a lady in a stationary store where we should stand to get a ride to Nelson. She indicates that it is not a very popular time of year to find people going that way but she points in a direction and wishes us luck.

We get to where we think we are supposed to wait, set our backpacks down, hold up the little cardboard sign, and stick out our thumbs.

The only other experience I have with hitchhiking was when I lived in the mountains about 30 minutes outside of Boulder, Colorado. On most days, I would take the bus, but every so often, it wouldn't come so I would hitchhike to get to work. I never had to wait very long and I would usually make a new friend. 

At first we feel a little awkward. A car is coming up the road. And then drives past us. 

Another car is coming so we hold our thumbs up higher. That car keeps driving too.

Car after car passes. I read online that a pair of females is considered the safest way to hitchhike and most likely to be picked up. We fit the stereotype. Why isn't anyone stopping?

Finally, a car pulls up and the adrenaline begins to pump through my body. Is this it? I have a split second to get a feeling for the driver and decide if we want to get in or not. We have already been waiting much longer than we originally anticipated, so there is a little desperation - it's winter and we are cold.

The driver rolls his window down and informs us that we’re not standing in the right place. If we want, he can drive us up the road a bit to where we will have a better chance of finding a ride to our destination. We accept.

After a few minutes, he drops us off at a more direct intersection and wishes us luck. 

That was easy.

Just like before, we put our backpacks on the ground, hold up our little cardboard sign, and stick our thumbs out.

It seems to be taking forever. 

A car pulls over and a bright-eyed, red-haired man tells us that he can’t take us all the way, but he will bring us to an even more direct intersection about 45 minutes up the road, if we would like.

We accept and get into his car. I sit in the front passenger seat (on the left side of the car – we are in New Zealand) and my friend sits in the back.

After a few minutes of small talk, our driver, Simon, says that he doesn’t have anything planned for the day so he will drive us the 2+ hours all the way - as long as we don’t mind stopping at his house so he can drink a cup of coffee.

That seems too nice. Who does that? Is he going to murder us?

“Are you sure you don't mind?” I ask.

“It’s no problem at all. I like driving and we can take the scenic route,” Simon says.

After a little while, he turns left onto a dirt road. We're driving through vineyards. It's beautiful, but where is he taking us? This doesn't seem right.

We pull up to a house with a small barn surrounded by vineyards as far as you can see.

I look at the barn and immediately imagine the various tools stored behind those doors that could be used to torture us.

He invites us in for coffee. I politely decline because I figure I'm safer staying in the car (he has left the keys and I can make an escape if I need to) but my friend says she would like to use the bathroom.

I can’t let her go in the house alone as I sit in the car wondering if we're actually going to make it to Nelson.

I get out of the car to follow my friend into his house and I am greeted by two barking dogs - clean and friendly. Then I see two pigs, cats, and other domestic animals, including ducks. They are all very excited, and very friendly.

I tell myself that a psychopath would probably not have such clean and friendly animals. Right?

When I walk into his house, I only notice how beautifully crafted and put together it is. Simon mentioned in the car that he was a carpenter. He built his house and just about everything in it - the cabinets, tables, doors. Everything. It is stunning.  

The barn is used as his workshop.

He gives us a tour of the yard to see more of his art and to meet the animals. He tells us how he acquired them – most had just shown up on their own over the years, including one of the pigs.

We sit on the patio, surrounded by vineyards, mountains, and stunning views while he finishes his coffee and smokes a cigarette.

When he's ready, we all get back into the car and continue on our journey.

We drive through the Marlborough Wine Region as he teaches us about the local climate, grapes, and geology. We talk about traveling. He tells us his stories and we share ours.

He drives the entire way and drops us off at the door of our hostel. We thank him profusely, which still does not seem like enough. He wishes us safe travels and then drives away. Just like that.

For another day, I can still believe in humanity.

Celebrating our first successful day of hitchhiking! 

A motivational sign we found in Nelson.