Reviewing the events of the past day in Bled, Slovenia it feels as if I left Salzburg eons ago although it has only been roughly 28 hours when I get to jotting in my journal.

An emotionally successful, although technically not, hitch hiking adventure brought my British travel-pal Cherrie and me down to Villach, an Austrian town on the Slovenian border with the aesthetics of any other in this country. Cherrie and I are reaching the point where we feel almost on par with the most frugal of globe-trotters as we have worked our way up the travel ladder utilizing resources such as CouchSurfing and Mitfahrgelegenheit, a ride sharing website. Lacking the interest in delving into dumpster diving, hitch-hiking seemed like the next logical step in our conquest to see Europe on a shoestring.

We began our journey to Lake Bled by taking a bus to the edge of Salzburg where we waited at a tanksteller just before the entrance of the motorway. Our destination being a straight shot south we began the journey with optimism. Regardless of how things were about to turn out, I was contently exhilarated sitting on the curb of a Shell station, sipping a weak, sweet coffee dispensed from a vending machine and soaking in the sun rays that had been hiding the past few days. There wasn’t much to worry about when I was with good company and at least 90% of the letters on our cardboard sign were legible.

First picked up by a young interior designer and hitch hiker herself, Tina was able to get us out of the city and dropped us off 15 minutes south at a roundabout in the town of Hallein, where she was driving to her own birthday party. Here, after about 20 minutes and a few taunting looks from drivers, we were picked up by 2 big Italian mamas in a black SUV. The car was filled with plastic bags and, concerned that they were suffering from a severe pheromonal imbalance, they reeked of b.o. A pleasant conversation led us to find out that they were fishers (hence the foul smell) with a few restaurant in the area and that the route we were on is a drive that they do several times a week.

The drive was a quick 90 minutes, however when asked if we wanted to be let out at a roundabout on the motorway or at the Villach Hauptbahnhof, the prospect of a beer proved too tempting and we foolishly opted for the train station. Proud that we safely made it this far we figured we could take a train to Bled, but alas, the last train left an hour ago and there wasn’t another coming until 4am. We began this journey at 4pm. It was 7pm in Villach. We were 50km and 10 hours from our destination. What now to do but find a cozy bar and settle in.

Made it to Villach, at least.

Drinking as slowly as possible and on the verge of curling up in the bar booth to nap, closing time rolled around and the prospect of relocating was imminent. It is miserable traveling like this, but often it does happen and that is what makes part of the adventure so worthwhile. We walked around the small town in the dim light of the chilly morning foraging for WiFi. Making it to a heated waiting room in the station, we vaguely rested for the remaining 2 hours under the fluorescent light that illuminated and exaggerated every pore, blemish and line under our tired eyes. That Cherrie and I can can still enjoy each other after an experience like this is a true testament to our friendship.

Once in Bled, it was still dark and the air damp and crisp. Facing the lake with the rising sun behind us it felt worth all of the exhaustion just for this one moment, sort of.