Hitchhiking at Night

Crak des Chevalier -->Motorbike-->Bus-->Utility truck(s)-->Utility truck(s)-->Utility truck(b)-->Utility truck(b)-->Motorbike-->Hotel

Mileage: 100 km

Time: 8pm-10.30pm

Finally hitchhiked successfully. I mean get a ride(actually more than one) in just a few minutes, at night.

Yes, it’s hitchhiking in the dark!

Confidence boosted. Addiction returned. Celebrated it by buying chocolate croissant. Yummy!

Since finding no way to sneak in to the world’s most intact crusader castle – Crak des Chaveliers, I obediently paid the entrance fee and walked through the bulky doorway. I was the last to walk out from the castle before the door was shut and locked. I smiled and I know it’s worth. I sat in front of the gigantic castle, admiring its impressiveness and magnificent, and simultaneously, ignoring the last call by the microbus and taxi driver loitering outside the castle. I told myself I never have to worry about getting back to hotel if the country I’m staying is Syria.

Crak des Chevalier

And I’m right.

After walking downhill for about 2km, a local offered me a ride on his motorcycle. I hopped on and he drove me to the junction where buses usually passed by. And yes, right before I hopped off, I saw a bus decorated fancily and I waved my hand to stop it. The driver drove me to another junction where, according to him, microbuses usually stopped by. I waved thank you to him and started walking further towards a direction which I believed was correct. Some local told me there might be a microbus while others said no straightforwardly and asked me to stay overnight in the little town. I started pointing my finger out while walking when I realized that I still couldn’t walk out of the town because there seemed to be another town followed ahead. The traffic was reducing and the sky was darkening when a small utility truck pulled off in front of me. Oh! Thanks God! He took me for a few kilometers and dropped me under a lighting pole. In less than 1 minute, another utility truck picked me up and brought me near to the Tartus-Homs highway turn off point. I walked carefully to the carriageway using my torch(I always carry a torch with me), stayed alerted for any ambush by fierce dogs. The 3-lane dual carriageway had no lighting and I told myself this is Syria. I crossed over to the opposite direction in the dark, jumping over the safety barriers and told myself I was agile. After waiting for around half an hour under a big but unlit advertisement board(Hitchhiking Rule No.1: Stay with something which can easily distract the driver especially at night when there was no any lighting), a big truck pulled off and I ran towards it. I greeted to the fatty driver in a white singlet and he asked me to hop on without asking where I wish to go. He then told me he was heading to Damascus and will have to drop me in the highway turn off. I thanked him again and he started calling me habibi. Damn it. It quickly reminded me of the Omani who invited me to his room when I was in Mutrah. By knowing that we both took the same brand of cigarette, we smoked and exchange smoke. I think I must be damn bored to get excited because of this. It all went smooth, nothing bad happened even I stayed alert most of the time, if not all the time. I told myself never judge people by his appearance, especially in such a lovely country. He then dropped me in the middle of highway and drove away. There was another 5km to the city of Homs and certainly it was riot in demonstration and full of security forces. I didn’t walk to it but chose to walk to the direction of Hama. In less than 1 minute, still in utter darkness, a few utility trucks slowed down towards me but never pulled off. They were just curious to figure out what’s ‘that thing’ in the middle of the highway covered in complete darkness. But this didn’t happen to a big utility truck that chose to pull off. The helper was too curious and eager to know what has happened to me and kept on talking with me in Arabic, even though I have told him I didn’t understand Arabic. Syrians (Arabic people in general) are like that, they will never stop talking with you in Arabic even you told them you don’t understand. They were heading to Aleppo and again I was dropped in the highway turn off where I felt relieved to have found myself near to the town I stayed. They told me the town was a further 3 km but they were wrong! It took me at least an hour by walk before I got close to lights and building. A young and kind teenager whom I believed was loitering around offered me a ride on his motorcycle at 10pm when I was walking in the dark along an unlit road leading to the town of Hama.

And yes, I was in my bed at 11pm, finally. What a day!