Day 3 continued

Travel tip 37: Used tea bag strings make great dental floss!

Baloo is true to his name, big, friendly and fun. We spend the day talking about beer, cars, and life, stopping only to honk at pretty women ( who mostly for some strange reason don‘t appreciate this compliment). It had been a while since my last semi lift so I’d forgotten how comfortable they are! Big soft chairs, fridge in the middle and a high view point to take in the sights. Plus truckers always make interesting tour guides. A brothel to the left, cheap, some times poisonous food to the right etc.

Baloo, the legend

He stops in the evening for a break and buys us some beer. I learn he has a family, drives this route often but doesn’t normally pick up hitchers. He tells me he only stopped because he saw how pissed off I was with the hippie van and that made him laugh. I find the psychology in hitching quite interesting and decide to add humour to my arsenal.

We pull into a truck stop in Samaur. Baloo offers to introduce me to the other truckers as this is as far as he’s going. None of the other truckers are interested in sharing their work space with a smelly, non-French speaking man, but I don’t care. It’s been a good day. Baloo buys us a round of Rose ( sitting at a truckers/ bikers bar sipping a dainty glass of Rose with a 120kg man is an unusual experience for me). Baloo goes back to his truck and returns with half a dozen cans of food telling me that his wife buys them so he will eat healthier but he’s not interested. The generosity of this big man is amazing! We say good bye’s and I am truly sorry to see him go. After he has left I down the rest of my wine and turn to leave but the beautiful woman behind the bar stops me. Apparently Baloo has paid for me to have dinner here, the sneaky, amazing bastard!

For starters there is a buffet of breads, cold meats, cheeses and salads. I eat enough for a small village. The meal comes with a bottle of red and a choice of mains, I go for the pork chops and chips. Between the excitement of all the food and wine it’s a struggle to decide what goes in my mouth next as I try to simultaneously devour them all.

With my stomach full of food, my mind full of wine and my pockets full of bread and cheese I stumble out of the bar, smiling like a fool, content as can be. I promise my self I will pay for this indulgence by waking up early to talk to the truckers again.

Day 3= 350km