Hitching around Europe - Travels in Austria and Prague

We were musicians, singing songs on the streets of Europe but lately it seemed that every time we launched into our song "Who Needs the Sun to Shine", it would begin to rain. We weren't lost to the irony either, as we soon realised that it's buskers in Europe who need it.

We hadn't cursed ourselves yet with the notes of our doomed song that morning, but the heavens opened anyhow and down came the torrential rain. So we packed up our sodden tent, took one last look at the now swoolen lake, and with a resolve more akin to grim acceptance that we would never again be dry set off on a march to the nearest service station.

We'd found the best way to travel was to stand at a station like this with a cardboard sign announcing your destination and wait to be given a ride. Much better than standing by the side of a highway where cars whiz past at crazy speeds. So far this technique had worked fairly well. We're both female, and young (enough), carrying instrument cases and don't look too threatening. Our sign that day read 'Salzburg' and hoping for the best we took turns holding it while the other sat reading.

An hour passed, and then another. We made friends with Roland, the service station attendant, during our frequent trips into the store to buy chocolate and coffee, and to releive our boredom.

"You're on the wrong side of town to go to Salzburg," he told us. "This road leads to Vienna."

"How far to the other side?" asked Fiona, my friend the fiddle player.

"Much too far to walk. If you haven't got a ride by the time I finish my shift, I'll give you a ride there."

Well, at least we would be on the right track. An hour more passed and then Roland came out in his red and blue uniform. We piled into his red Volkswagen and set off towards the other side of town.

"This is just my weekend job," he told us. "I work in an insurance office during the week."

"You work 7 days a week?" I asked, amazed.

"See this picture?" He pointed to the photo of a sports car pasted to his dashboard. "This is my dream. I'm saving up to buy it."

Let me tell you, Roland was not a babe. You could imagine him in his office job quite easily. Glasses, skinny as a rake, a big nose, and a shy demeanour made me assume that he wasn't married and that his nights were spent dreaming of his sexy new car.

"I went to England once," he went on. "I loved it. I wish I could travel more but I have to work. Anyhow I'm too old for it now. But I admire what young people like you are doing."

Fi and I shared a giggle. I had turned 28 months ago and often people thought us both younger than we were. Definately old enough for families and careers, old enough to be working hard and saving up for houses and cars. But here we were travelling around Europe, hitchhiking in the rain, setting up our act in streets and parks in strange cities, and loving every minute of it.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Oh 27. It's too old to just take off and do what you're doing."

"What would you think if I told you that I was older than you?" I asked. "I'm older by a year."

Roland looked shocked. "What, really?" He looked at me again. "And you can just do this, you don't worry about your future?"

"No I don't. You can still travel if you want to. 27 is not old, you've still got plenty of time."

I could see him turning this over in his mind but we'd reached the other side of town and our conversation was cut short. He helped us to unpack our bags from the car and with a wave and "good luck!" he was gone.

We'd exchanged our view now of one station for another and decided it was time for another coffee to fortify us for the next stint of sitting on soggy bags. When I came out of the coffee shop to hand Fiona her brew I looked up to see a red car racing off the exit ramp to the station we were in.

"Hey, doesn't that look like..."

It was. Roland was back. He screeched to a stop in front of us, and hopped out of his car full of determination, with a crazy grin on his face. It looked like he'd just had some sort of epiphany.

"You know, if I go home now I'll just sit there watching TV all night. Let me give you a ride to Salzburg."

And with that, we drove through the afternoon rain and on to our next destination.