Much of my earlier life was spent under the thumb of someone else – having to fit in, doing the right thing.

So it was wonderful to leave.

Earn my own living – do my own washing up, fix things on my own.

Unfortunately i was not much good at running my own business – my coullegues earnt 10 times what i did by sweating it out. often i would see them do it – a dining table in one day – sure the edges were a bit rough and the sanding poor but he did it in a day and got the same money that i did – so where did i go wrong?

To be honest i dont think i did, i just followed my own path – got a very good reputation for quality and made a lot of friends.

Never having enough money for a holiday began to get me down a bit – sure i paid all the bills so i could take some time off but its not much fun without money.

i decided to visit some friends in London – decided the best way was to hitch.

Got on to the dual carriageway at Tiverton and stuck my thumb out.

No lifts and it started to rain – after a little i went home and decided to put on my motorbike gear (waterproof) Might as well take the helmet, a biker may stop.

Blimey, got a lift at once.

Bristol 3/4 hour.

Stood in a queue with others on the big roundabout by the last services before the m4, car stops beside me— ME, the window comes down and – “if you want a lift hop in” Well i was at the end of a queue so i mentioned it, the guy said i wont give anybody else a lift so choose. What a quandary, so i got in and off we set.

Took me a while to work out what was going on, and it was to make all the difference to me for the next 15 years.

Many motorists want to give lifts and they need an excuse. Guy standing beside the road in motorbike gear means he is broken down somewhere, that works.

Further proof – my van broke down near to Torquay. I set out to walk to Exeter thumbing – no lifts. Had left something in the van so went back. Standing by the van thumbing – got a lift at once.

I got to meet the most amazing people – rides in lorrys, cars, vans even undercover police vehicles. Bentlys, rangerovers, audis – minis – you name it.

Every so often id get a lift from a motorcycle – they werent so much fun, especially in the rain.

There was only one time i was concerned – hitching again at Bristol a van stopped – wide cage in the back – all seats taken, they wouldnt tell me where they were going and they looked at me as if i was a snack – no way.

The art of hitching is knowing which lifts to refuse – easiest explanation is from the Bristol services(gordano) – this is the m5 – to get to London you need the m4 – there is nowhere to stop at the junction of the 2, and nowhere to hitch either. So you need to know if the driver is going North or east – most at Bristol go North – sometimes they are going off at the first services so you may end up at a desert – the next driver may be going all the way, or even drop you off at a tube station.

One thing however most drivers want is to talk – so for me it was wonderful. I got to hear all sorts of tales – dastardly deeds – wonderful things people had done – even murders as yet officially unsolved.

One guy gave me a lift in a falling to pieces honda – he explained he was undergoing the most horrendous time of his life – he apologized for the state of the car and explained he was a sales director for a very large company and was used to far better, but due to circumstances he had lost nearly everything. he then told me about the circumstances –

Heed been living with 2 separate women for the last 12 years and they had just found out about each other. One wanted revenge. the other really wanted him as after all he had been pleasing both of them for 12 years – no ordinary man that – I said well your choice is clear – pick the one who wants you. “NONOOOO” he exclaimed – “i dont want either of them, i just want to be left alone” Poor lad.

Another lift, similar type of car – he explained to me that he had been a senior social worker.

He had not been sleeping well so his girlfriend and he discussed this – she asked him about his fantasies – one of them was raping her. To be more precise, his dream was of waking up during the night and having sex with her while she was asleep. She said, “if thatl help you sleep, go ahead and try it”

Few days later she complained of feeling sore before getting out of bed. He explained what had happened during the night.

Her response was “i never agreed to that.” Next thing he was arrested for rape. Lost his job the lot.

Dropped off near the m4 one day by a friend id been staying with – bit of a bleak spot.

Standing there for a short while when a car draws up – first one by. Well were going the same way so thats fine.

After a little he says to me “been waiting long?”

“no not really, in fact about 45——”

“What hours”

“nooo, seconds”

Bit of a conversation killer that one.

Another time, i stayed with a gorgeous lady id met on a website for people who considered themselves — a cut above the rest – wow she was fun.

In fact id first met her some 25 years before in the pages of the telegraph sunday supplement.

She was an artist – lovely slim and good fun — we got on like a house on fire but soon enough it was time to leave.

Decided the best bet was to hitch to london and go from there.

First guy stopping was a motorcyclist – rightiho – weaving in and out of the traffic, hanging on for dear life – every time i peeked round his shoulder my head nearly got taken off in the slipstream.

Decided to buy him a coffee and a bun. There was a cafee in a small town so we stopped and partook. The waiter was really great and soon enough we had a warm three way conversation.

Back on the road again, after some 20 minutes i said to him

“did you pay?”

“no”

Ive allways felt guilty about that —-.

I wrote down the best stories – i still have them and one day they may appear here, but for now this is fulfilling the program ive set