A Spontaneous Road Trip Romance Through Spain and France
Turns out hitchhiking can be a great first date!
After I left Rome, I got on the bus from the airport and headed into the city. I found an empty seat and sat next to a man from Belgium who was also visiting Barcelona for a few days. He told me how he was planning to go to a beach up the coast. I knew nothing about what there was to see outside Barcelona. I was just there for a festival on Sunday (my last one of the trip). He showed me pictures of the beaches up the coast and it looked stunning. After that, I was determined to get there. He said he was taking the train tomorrow if I wanted to join him, but I was exhausted from moving around. I needed a day to rest, but hoped to go in a few days somehow.
The next day, I met up with my friend Savannah, who I met at the music festival in Croatia a week earlier. She had also gone to the festival solo, and we hit it off right away. When she said she lived in Barcelona, I told her that was my next stop and I’d visit her. Now here we were— new friends already in a new city together!
We laid out at the beach with her boyfriend, who was from Argentina.
When she asked me what my plans were for Barcelona, I jokingly said I wanted to find a cute guy to drive me up the coast. The photos of the beach were still vivid in my mind. Savannah said we could drive there, but only on Wednesday. Except that was when I had to get back to Paris, so if I wanted to go, it had to be sooner.
I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around Barcelona, getting lost in the streets and watching salsa dancing in Parc de la Ciutadella.
I wanted to join in, but I am truly awful at salsa dancing— it is something I want to get better at this year!
A few hours later, I was exhausted. I was supposed to meet up with Savannah at night for drinks, but by dinner time I could barely move. I stopped in at a tapas bar for dinner, and since I was only one person, they sat me at the bar.
I put my bags down, and when I looked up, I noticed there was a cute guy sitting next to me. His name was Ben. He lived in Kent, and he had bright green-blue eyes, and a warm smile. When I asked him why he was in Barcelona, he explained that while he worked in film as an AD, between gigs he transported luxury cars around Europe. Right now, he was headed to Normandy, and driving up the coast of Spain on Monday.
After the tapas bar, he asked me to get drinks somewhere else. We went to another bar outside, enjoying the warm weather, and kept talking late in the night. At one point, he asked me if I wanted to join him on this road trip. “I know it sounds crazy, so you can sleep on it, and let me know tomorrow.”
It did sound crazy, even to me. And I did a lot of stupid shit. I get into strangers’ cars often, 1) because I don’t like to drive and 2) because I enjoy meeting strangers and going on a fun adventure. But usually it was just for short stints. This would be three full days together. I asked him if I would be safe, and he pinky promised me. He said he never broke his promises. He walked me home, and we kissed. He told me I could decide tomorrow.
I sat there lying in bed and thought about it. In a way, it was exactly what I had hoped for, in an eerily perfect way. But now, I wondered if I was being reckless to get into a complete stranger’s car and drive across two countries. So, I took a quick poll and asked three friends. Two said it was a bad idea, and the third told me to go for it and have fun.
The next day, I saw Ben again, and offered some ground rules. If I was ever uncomfortable, he would be respectful and take me to the nearest train station so I could leave. We would always communicate how we were feeling. And he would not murder me. He agreed to all these terms, so I told him I was in.
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