Living the Hitch-hiking Way

I left with 20 euros in my pocket, a small backpack and no phone. It would take around 5 hours to get to Montpellier from Grenoble, so I had heard, and I was hoping to arrive before nightfall. It was the first time I had hitch-hiked alone. The day was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky and the air was warm - a great day to stand around with my thumb stuck out, waiting for a nice soul to stop and take me to some further destination. As a solo hitch-hiker, you have to learn to follow your instincts, sharpen your wit and trust people more than you normally would. Travelling as a solo girl hitch-hiker, you have to augment all of those at an even higher level.

Fortunately, I had an amazing first experience making my way to the south of France. I have to thank the five people who picked me up along the way and got me safely to Montpellier: the English-speaking dad, the physical eduction high school teacher, the woman en route to visit her family, the semi-truck driver, and the French-islander from (one of those occupied French islands). I know none of their names, just their stories. I made it there before the sky grew dim.

Montpellier (and Courtney - the friend I was visiting who I had met a month earlier when she came to CouchSurf in Grenoble) showed me an amazing time and was a great host.
We laid on the sandy beaches of Montpellier, created catchy names for future inventions, watched five cars burn completely up in the middle of the night after our two hour jam session at a closed bar, bronzed in the sun by the river and mocked the multitude of photographers and their subjects. Our literal "mockage" goes as follows:
 

"Oh, look at me. Oui, take my picture."

(Uh oh! I got caught in the mockery) - notice said girl in white

Just laugh it off.

 My weekend in Montpellier wasn't all fun and games. I did have a terrible interview on Monday morning, where I was told my French sucked and my English grammar sucked even worse. Let's just say I won't be getting that job. Now to thinking differently about the future, yet again.

The adventure back from Montpellier was yet another interesting one when four French-Turks picked me up and dropped me off well further than I needed to go, that left me with difficulty trying to get a ride back to Grenoble. I met another hitch-hiker while hanging out around a toll booth, a very nice toll attendant named Erik and a lady who kindly dropped me off in Lyon. Luckily, I was able to get a hold of a friend that lives in Lyon who fed me and let me crash there for the night. I made my way back to Grenoble the next morning to arrive just in time to teach my first class.
I told my students if any of them could top my weekend, they could all leave. It was a sure shot none of them could, but they all enjoyed the story of my eventful weekend.

I came back with .32 cent in my pocket.