Hitcher II

Returning from a cold and frosty walk on the Ridgeway and the first meeting with Fiona for at least a year, we stopped to pick up a hitcher. It's only been a month or so since I last gave a lift, so I was surprised to see another man thumbing so soon.

And that is a relection upon how rare hitch-hiking is these days.

This guy looked like a tramp, with a long coat, woolly hat and long unkempt beard. Moonface told me that he smelled like a tramp, too, but my sense of smell seems to have disappeared again after a recent series of nosebleeds. Anyway, he was a decent enough man, a little terse but open enough, with a lovely Durham accent and a respect for the car: he suggested putting his rucksacks in the boot to keep our interior clean. Nice guy, no money, I hope that he managed to get to his destination before nightfall as it's cold out there tonight.

:o)