A Stage is Set: the IHHC rides . . .


© Bernd Wechner

It's a frosty winter's morn, and our hero Vlad rouses from his sleep prepared for the journey ahead. Ennio Morricone's playing in the background. Vlad splashes water on his face, dons his yellow jumpsuit, and walks out to face the day. He's in a small country town in the east, where he collects his woman and together they ride out to the west, on their trusty thumbs. At the border they meet three of their gang from the north.

Back in old Russia there's a clansman heading the same way. Abandoned by his mates he sets off alone. A lone figure in a yellow jumpsuit heading west over the horizon.

Vlad and company have no trouble crossing into Poland.

Way out west in the lowlands, a thumber of old, the grand-daddy of them all, collects two partners and heads to the station. Old Dan had written the book on thumbing, but he didn't do that any more, left it the young lads . . . He'd seen his days come and go, and the young'uns looked up to him with a glint of respect in their eyes - well, most of them . . .

The Russian reaches the Ukrainian border. There's a check, and he has no papers!

The train hurtles east.

Vlad's gang of yellow thumbs on west.

Times are hard 'tween old Russia and the Ukraine. There's a hefty exchange at the Ukrainian border. The tempers are high, the thugs in uniforms take our Russian in . . . he's beaten, thrown out, discarded on the lonely Russian road headed back home, blood stains on his suit of yellow.

The train hurtles east.

Vlad's gang arrives in Warsaw. They had an address from back home, a Pole who runs a hotel of sorts. They'd heard from afar he'd likely harbour them for the night before the mission of the morrow. They rap on the door and find the welcome they'd come for.

The train rides on through the night.

The Russian is left to bleed on a lonely Russian road.

The night passes quietly; the train pulls into Warsaw with a screech of its breaks. Old Dan and his team pull out and head into town, to the place. The place they'd arrange to meet Vlad, The Russian, and others . . . . It was a gathering of the highest importance.

On time, as planned, the thumbers young and old, east and west, yellow and not, came together. A quick head-count - only a few Russians were missing, but the International Hitch-Hiker's Conference could go ahead . . . !


On the 15th of February 1997 in Warsaw, Poland an ambitious project saw the light of day. It was the first International Hitch-hiker's Conferance (IHHC), organised by Lithuanian and Russian hitch-hiking clubs to discuss plans for the future.

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