In the mid-1990s I hitched across the UK. Not once, but constantly for 2.5 years. I was homeless, rough sleeping, and instead of choosing hostels I chose to t

In the mid-1990s I hitched across the UK. Not once, but constantly for 2.5 years. I was homeless, rough sleeping, and instead of choosing hostels I chose to travel the UK - this was a survival tactic, hostels were not nice or safe places. I would hitch from one city to another, and my sign would simply say "North" or "South". I had the greatest chance of being picked up at the slip road exiting a service station. So sometimes if I woke in a city I would walk 10-15 miles to get to the first service station on a motorway out of town. This is easy around London or in the midlands, but really hard in the South West. The people I met... oh wow. It was almost exclusively solo male drivers who picked people up. They were doing long road journeys and wanted company and to stay awake and engaged. To not fall asleep at the wheel. Your role as a hitcher... to be a graceful, clean, respectful passenger and to bring conversation and to know when to be quiet. The people though. I once was picked up by one of the Birmingham Six https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Birmingham_Six https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Birmingham_Six , on another occasion by a man who was dying and using his remaining months talking to people by picking them up hitching. There were saviours who would go out of their way in deep winter to get me somewhere safe. There were others who were themselves a danger and the propositions I received were... out there. I only once felt the need to do a runner at the first opportunity. Mostly though, people were incredibly kind, considerate, cool. And universally, everyone that picked me up said that the reason they did so was that they had once hitched and felt a need to continue to offer that kindness now that they had the means to pick someone up and give them a lift.