For many years my goal has been to hitchhike from the Arctic in Alaska to the far south of Chile in Patagonia. So far I’ve hitched, in two parts, from Alaska to Cancun in Mexico and from Cancun to Necocli on the Caribbean coast of Colombia. After my trip across Canada this summer I flew to Bogota, the capital of Colombia, and then flew internally to the unexciting city of Monteria, which has the closest airport to Necocli. My plan was to get the bus to Necocli and start hitching from there but the bus station in Monteria was significantly further from my hotel than the edge of town so it seemed easier to start hitching from Monteria instead.
You’ll notice that I take a lot of photos of the roads when I stand around waiting for rides. It’s deliberate. I’m trying to preserve an impression of what life is like in and around the small towns I’m usually in and what hitchhiking looks like from my perspective. I’m doing this trip more for the hitchhiking itself, and the landscapes I’m passing through, than for the normal touristic sites people visit when they come to South America. It’s an interesting and different way to experience life and I want to share what it’s like.
The bridge out of Monteria. The walk out to catch your first ride in a new country is always a bit nerve-racking because you don’t quite know what’s going to happen.
I decided this was my best spot. It took a while to get a ride because there were swarms of motorbikes on the inside lane, meaning the cars driving around them couldn’t see me clearly. I’d say it took 45 minutes to get picked up.
Fortunately I had this tree to shelter under from the sun.
Another river later on that day. There are lots of pipes suspended over rivers like this in Latin America. I don’t know what we do with them in western countries—maybe run them under the riverbed?—but it sure ain’t this.
There can be a lot of walking in the tropics. Unlike Canada, for example, most of the time there are farms or people’s houses alongside the road, even in the middle of nowhere, so you often have to walk to find somewhere clear to stand on a bit of road where someone can actually pull over.
Having said that, people often just stop in the middle of the road if they see me and everyone has to drive around them. Nobody minds, everyone does that sort of thing.
And sometimes I stand next to buildings cause there’s nowhere else to go. Colombia’s very Catholic so there are often small statues like this one of the Virgin Mary by the side of the road.
In general I’ve found my chances of getting picked up are significantly higher if I stand next to a lamppost, road sign or something else tall and upright. I have no idea why but it’s the case everywhere I’ve ever hitched.
All the previous pictures were in one day, at the end of which I spent the night in the town of Apartado. South of there, the landscape changes a little…
…because we get away from the coastal flats and into the mountains.
And that’s all you’re getting.
Total distance hitchhiked: 225 km.
Total number of rides: 3.
Total distance hitchhiked (lifetime): 61,027 km.
Total number of rides (lifetime): 416.
