The Story Continues ... 10.000 m Overhead

We are wowed to see our article featured in AirAsia's inflight magazine Travel3Sixty. With more than 16 million passengers carried in 2010 AirAsia is Asia's largest no-frills airline and pioneered low-cost travel in Asia. Craig had the chance to meet AirAsia's CEO and staff at a venue in KL. Enjoy reading:

Double Page in AirAsia's Travel3Sixty Inflight Magazine. 

Thumbing Asia from West to East

Saya Mat Salleh tapi Anak Malaysia. Ever since my exchange year in Shah Alam, Malaysia I can't wait to return to my second home: Reunite with my Malaysian (host) family, indulge some streetside Nasi Lemak and marvel at countless serendipities: From jaw-dropping scuba diving in Terengganu to colorful Deepavali celebrations in Kota Kinabalu AirAsia made a lot possible.

But this time I don't simply want to board an aircraft. I'm curious about 9500 kilometers land that seperate Germany from Malaysia. I want to go overland by thumbing up rides with people along the Silk Road. My brother joins me staging the next level of traveling:

We hitch-hike through Asia from West to East to meet people, see places and go beyond frontiers.

Our backpacks weigh a mere six kilograms each as we hit the road in Cologne, Germany. I'm nervous for the first time: Am I gonna make it on time? University starts in six weeks time but hitch-hiking is not predictable at all. Neither is our route predictable: What if we're not granted entry at a border… What if we get ill… Let's not think about it.

If you're hitch-hiking you have to be optimist.

In bustling Istanbul, Turkey we CouchSurf with a student of engineering. CouchSurfing is a cool way to explore a place from a different perspective other than the one offered by Lonely Planet. Instead of the must-sees Furkan shows us his favorite places and gives us insights into local secrets. We share the fun with friends all over the city from dusk till dawn.

Hitch-hiking in Turkey works really well. We meet people from all walks of life: Ferhat builds aquarium tunnels like the one in the Kuala Lumpur Convention Center (KLCC) or on Sentosa Island in Singapore. The ride is swift and comfortable - quite the contrary to our worst experience two days later...

No lights. Only the moon crescent high above us adumbrates the horizon. No sound. The desert swallows every little noise instantly. A Turkish truck driver has just dropped us in the middle of nowhere. My brother comments our situation with a grim sense of humor:

„We wanted adventure... Here you are!“

With my heart in my mouth I notice our water bottle is empty. 30 minutes of desperate thoughts later a truck comes closer. We vigorously wave our hands. The huge vehicle comes to a halt and a young driver smiles at us. Relieved we jump in.

20 kilometers further we reach our destination: The hillside village of Mardin. We don't know where to stay. A group of men invite us to have a Chai tea. They're so excited about our story that they arrange a hostel room for free. It‘s amazing how hospitable the people are – both in Turkey and in the next country Iran.

Fresh from my letter box.

The Urmia Lake is so salty that we float on the water surface. With these zero-g-forces my book doesn't get wet. The next day we venture into Teheran - a sprawling megalopolis of 20 million. The historic old town boasts a fascinating bazaar. We stroll along the carpet shops and enjoy the fragrance of oriental herbs in the next alley. The architecture is mind-blowing. Incomparable arcades and shimmering domes with fine mosaics of turquoise and yellow tiles. This poetry flows from its visual appearance into the verses of traditional songs that our host Razor sings in the truck leaving Teheran.

The sun is burning our skin. Hitch-hiking in the hottest desert on earth is something really nerve-wracking. As we look into the clear sky we see the vapor trail of an aircraft. For a moment we imagine the comfort of an air-conditioned AirAsia Airbus. Luckily it takes us less than a minute to get a lift with an old truck from World War Two. Some kilometers further down a tyre bursts.

Within days we swap dry desert for lush rainforest in India. Palm trees drift by and the head wind sweeps my hair as I smile at the dumbstruck farmer next to me. The beat of the engine makes any conversation impossible.

It's a lifetime dream: We're hitching a tractor.

At 5 mph we come closer and closer to the world famous Taj Mahal. Between masses of tourists we stand in awe.

On the fringe of seaside Surat Thani a Thai police man means me to get into the police car. After a short ride he points at the beach: "You can put up your hammock here. Good night!" With a freshly plucked coconut in my hands I enjoy the sunset on my 'private' beach. Minutes later the monsoon starts to pour. Thanks to my rainfly the hammock stays dry.

The next morning I‘m squashed between six Thai guys in the truck cabin. Every time I try my newly learned Thai phrases we burst into laughter. I'm distracted by a roadside stall: My favorite fruit Durian. Near Hat Yai I wave a Malaysian flag. My cardboard sign reads „Saya mahu balik kampung. Shah Alam.“ (Want to come back home. Shah Alam.).

At the well lit Petronas gas station a Malay family offers to give me a lift. Chatting with them I trip down the memory lane and I catch up with speaking Malaysian over a tasty Roti Canai.

Finally: As I approach Jalan Adang No. 75 my (host) brother Danial catches sight of me. He runs into the house and yells:

"Craig is back. Craig is bearded."

Terima kasih daun keladi semoga kita berjumpa lagi.


This is the original text that I submitted!
If you want to read on head to the original blog posts.
For the full magazine go to: AirAsia Travel3Sixty.

Balik Kampung

Pekan Rabu - Market in Alor Star, Kedah

Mit Bob hatte ich eine herrliche Zeit. Nach der Polizeistreife gestern Abend nimmt er mich nun mit zum landesweit bekannten Markt von Alor Star.

Gestern hat mir ein netter Polizist eine traditionelle Art von Zigarette vorgestellt. Es heißt übersetzt 'Blätter Zigarette'. Das beschreibt sie auch ziemlich gut: Ein bisschen Tabak kommt in ein getrocknetes Blatt eines speziellen Baumes und wird wieder zusammen gerollt. Fertig. Da habe ich natürlich gleich an Gerd (Name geändert) gedacht und möchte ihm ein paar dieser Zigaretten mitbringen. Wir kaufen noch ein paar andere Spezialitäten, denn das ist Sitte in Malaysia, wenn man zu Besuch kommt.

Bob bringt mich auf die Autobahn und scheint selbst nervöser zu sein als ich: Die Stories vom LKW-Fahren haben ihn anscheinend besonders beeindruckt. Er möchte unbedingt Trucker fragen. Zum Glück fährt keiner von denen passend für mich. Deshalb verabschieden wir uns und ich versuche mein Glück alleine. Das tritt auch ziemlich schnell ein: Ich bekomme einen 'Straight lift' nach Shah Alam in einem schnellen Auto! Yay. Mit dem malaiischen Paar unterhalte ich mich lange über die Reise, über die Dinge die ich an Malaysia mag und die unterschiedlichen Schulsysteme. Die beiden sind begeistert, als ich ihnen ein Bild aus dem Iran von dem Auto (Proton CamPro) zeige, in dem wir beide sitzen. Das war echt ein Zufall, ein malaysisches Auto zu sehen, wo es im Iran praktisch nur vier Modelle gibt. Ich bin überrascht, dass sie Zärtlichkeiten austauschen. Natürlich finde ich Streicheln und Kuscheln total schön, nur in Malaysia hab ich's einfach fast nie gesehen. In der Öffentlichkeit ist es sogar verboten - zumindest Küssen. Irgendwie hat's mich also gefreut zu sehen, dass die beiden sich auch in der Form lieb haben ;-) Nach ein zwei Stunden schlafe ich - mit Genehmigung - ein. Viel früher als geplant erreiche ich Bukit Jelutong, mein 'Kampung'. 'Balik Kampung' ist Malaysisch für 'Zurück in die Heimat' oder direkt übersetzt 'zurückkehren Dorf'.

Die beiden setzen mich an der Autobahnauffahrt 'Bukit Jelutong Sentral' ab - auf der Autobahn! Schon damals war es für mich schwierig, BJ zu verlassen, da der dreieckige Stadtteil von zwei Autobahnen und undurchdringlichem tropischen Regenwald begrenzt wird. Mist - es fängt an zu schütten. So richtig monsunmäßig! Innerhalb von Minuten bin ich komplett nass.

Craig, merke: Steck Regencape und Poncho so ein, dass du sie schnell benutzen kannst!

Am Golfplatz stelle ich mich unter und überlege, ob es vielleicht ein höheres Zeichen ist: Komm noch mal zur Ruhe! Geh die zwei Kilometer durch den Stadtteil! Deinen Schulweg! Ja! Das mache ich! Es muss keinen besinderen Lift' bis zur Haustür geben! Egal wie unangenehm das Wetter ist, überglücklich wandere ich los. Nicht viel hat sich geändert: Die Schule hat jetzt eine Bushaltestelle und 'Propaganda-Graffitis' ("Be the architect of your life!" oder "Respect your parents! Respect your teacher! Respect your country!"). Außerdem gibt es einen neuen Shoplot-Komplex am Fußballfeld. Dort spielt keiner während dem Ramadan.





Mein Herz schlägt immer schneller, je näher ich der Nummer 75, Jalan komme. Auf dm Spielplatz, wo ich so oft mit Danial, Yasmin, Sophia und anderen Kindern aus der Nachbarschaft gespielt habe ist gerade keiner. Eine Rutsche scheint kaputt zu sein. Ich stehe vor meinem zweiten zu Hause und schnaufe noch mal tief durch. Oh, da ist Danial. Schnell verstecke ich mich, um ihn zu erschrecken. Aber daraus wird nichts: Danial ist wie immer schneller. Kurz umarmt er mich, guckt mich verträumt an und rennt ins Haus:

"Craig dah sampai! Craig ada janggut." (my.: Craig ist da. Craig hat Bart).

Ein großes Hallo. Wir fallen uns in die Arme. Meine malaysische Familie. Ich bin zu Hause.

Patrol

I'm still nervous. Hitching at night isn't the wise thing to do but it's apparently close to impossible in Malaysia.

Anyways, I'm in a good spot: A brightly lit Petronas gas station in the outskirts of Jitra. After some minutes chatting with motorcyclists and Petronas staff I finally get a lift with two friendly Malay guys to Alor Star - Kedah's capital which is more of a provincial town. I'm enjoying our conversation in BM so much. This time it's much better than last year. I didn't forget too many words.

As we speed into Alor Star Dzivani offers to call my friend Bob. My Malaysian mummy gave me his number. I met him only once on a trip to Sibu island - if it's that person I'm thinking of. Yes it is: "Apa khabar Bob?" ("How're u bob?"). - "Khabar baik."

With Bob & Alor Star Police Patrol in Mamak Store.

Typical Malaysian Neighborhood

Bob introduces me to his colleges at Alor Star City Council. It's already 9 o'clock but they're still working.

I enjoy the atmosphere. Everybody is impressed by my Malay - except for me! I know I used to speak even better. Never mind. We go out for a police patrol on the night market. It's nothing really thrilling: Just check if the hawker have a license and so on. There are so many officers that I feel as if I had been introduced to half the Alor Star police personnel. We do one mor round then we go to a Mamak store. It's that special kind of restaurant that I like so much about Malaysia. Usually they're open 24 hours serving all the nice everyday dishes like Nasi Lemak (coconut steamed rice with spicy sambal and condiments), Nasi Khandar (rice with selection of curries), Roti Canai (calorie packed bred ;-)) … Terima Kasih Daun Keladi Semoga Kita Berjumpa Lagi Bob! It was a real fun time with you and your friends!

Pick Ups & Buddha

I'm looking for a coffee. The Seven Eleven only sell those cold canned coffees. I need a coffee that energizes me for this day. Krabi town looks like all towns on the Malay peninsula: Wide straight roads through between square shoplot blocks. One KFC. One McD. Many Seven Es.

Aaaaaah finally… there is a street stall. After the coffee I start thumbing. Difficult since it's rush hour. Most people want to go to work fast. A guy wants to help me and explains one of the modified pickup busses to help out. It's a short lift to the next junction. From here I get several short lifts with people that can't really speak English … always in pick-ups.

Pick-ups seem to be the no. 1 vehicle for southern Thailand. I enjoy the rides with Bon to Trang, with a group of female teachers to a private school half way to Phattalung, with two guys to the highway junction, with a couple to near Hat Yai and a salesman from Bangkok to Hat Yai city center.

These were the highlights: The couple Wit and bunya laughed as we found out that there where three different religions in the car. Some minutes later a member of the royal family was escorted passed us in a group of black Benz cars and police motos. Another surprising moment: As we go passed a temple on a road pass Ning lifts his hands from the steering wheel to honor the place with a 'Sawadee Gesture' - while driving!!!

Better I pray too: 6000++ kms without seat belt, on the back of pick-ups and high-speed mountain lifts deserves appreciation to any god: Be it Krishna, Buddha or Allah.

Lift with Military Police. Wow.

Lu Pot (name changed) is apparently the highest rank officer of the group of military police personnel. They notice me wandering about the beach. Lu offers his help. As he inspires confidence I tell him my needs. He's willing to help. After a short blah with his colleges he asks me to jump in the police car.

It's a short two km hop to a camp site. The old guy at the reception asks for 50 Thai baths. I tell my story. Lu repeats:

"No money? You like Backpacker correct?!" 

– "Extreme backpacker!"

We see a smile on the the reception guy and he shows me two trees for my Hennessy. Lu leaves me and I can merely manage to take a decent shot of the car. Usually policemen are not allowed to be photographed and I sense that I'm actually not allowed to take any photos on military territory. It's called Area Wing 5. I enjoy a very special sunset with a maximum horizon-to-horizon rainbow.

My first police car lift (police car on the road, left).

Good morning Thailand. Sunrise wakes me up in my Hennessy.

As I set up my hammock Lu comes back: "Hey Krag. You remember me? I come back because I have to see. Eeeeh. Do you have passport? You know better for me. Better for you. Better for Area Wing 5." He takes a shot with his mobile and we exchange mail addresses. From our conversation I think that if I was hungry, he'd take me to a restaurant. The people are so friendly!

I fall asleep. What a gorgeous place to fall asleep. Thank you Thailand!

Sukria Sattya

With Indian Students in their apartment.

80 short of Agra we try to thumb up a ride on a busy crossroads - just like locals. Some hop on a truck, some get lifts with a shared taxi.

We make friends with a friendly guy: Sattya invites us to take a truck with him. He wants to pay. With five people and our two backpacks we occupy most of the truck's front. Over the course of the bumpy ride on jammed roads we try to call our CouchSurfer. Unfortunately we find out that he is in Delhi. Emergency situation once again!

We get off in the outskirts of Agra. Sattya introduces us to some friends and relatives. Excited they decide to host us for one night. Sattya's brother points at two motorcycles. We look at each other:

"Craig (!), we said riding  motorcycles is a no-go!"

We jump on the bikes and vrooom some hundred meters to a student apartment. Sattya proudly shows us a room. Other friends show up and put away their homework to make space for us. One guy brings a Pepsi - in this part of the world a symbol of hospitality and welcome. I take some gulps and then try to explain diabetes - dificult with only hands and gestures.



It's midnight. We have enjoyed a tasty snack and brushed our teeth. The landlord and ten young Indians with different levels of English from 'no word' to 'college English' stare at us waiting for something to happen. As we are really tired we ask them to leave us alone. Some more jokes, short blahs and shy looks into our dark room .... silence finally .... zzzzZZZZZZZ.

Traktor in Indien - Lebenstraum erfüllt!

Heilige Kuhstärken unter der Haube!

Faridabad - 30 Kilometer von Delhi entfernt, zwei Lifts bisher, zwei Stunden. Die Bilanz ist ernüchternd. Schuld daran ist das indische Chaos. Wir kommen mit lächerlichen 15 km/h voran. Im Iran waren es immer mindestens 50 manchmal sogar 100 km/h Durchschnittstramptempo. Ein echter Kulturschock.

Wir sehen einen Traktor mit drei Indern drauf und einem Anhänger. Ich denke daran, dass ich diesen Satz in Deutschland oft witzig gemeint habe: "In Indien müssen wir dann Traktor trampen."
Tatsächlich sie halten an. Kurzer üblicher Wortwechsel: "Namaste. Mee rrrru nam Crrraig. Gerrrrmaniee… Mathura?" "Ok." "We no money!" *shaking heads.

Yay! Wir springen auf den Traktor und setzten ins jeweils neben einen der Beifahrer auf die Radkästen. Leider können wir uns kaum miteinander unterhalten. Wenige Kilometer später ist dieser ewige Lift vorbei.

Iran Through the Backdoor

After Kurdistan leg we approach another crucial moment on our trip: Iranian pass control.

The Turkish emigration takes some minutes each. The officer from Antalya excuses: "Computer slow here!" We go through a short gangway on international territory than we enter the Iranian border control building: Nobody is there. We see two pictures of Ayatollah Khoemeni and Ahmadinejad. A Turk complains: "Yeah, I work here. We have to look at them every day."



We don't dare to go through the door or even touch it. We are in Iran! Over and over again we raise our voice: "Salam." After some minutes a young officer comes to the control counter. He checks our details, scans the passport, asks "Dario? Craig?", he slams a stamp on our passport and then he remotely opens the kitschy wooden door. We thanks him with Farsi intonation: "Merci."

As soon as we exit the building a guy shouts: " Money. Money. Turkish Lira. Exchange. Exchange." Luckily we don't have significant Turkish lira left so we ignore him and head to the bank where we get a better rate:

50€ becomes 750.000 Iranian Rials or as they say 75.000 Toman. Don't ask me why. I think even they don't know.

At the exit of the border area taxi driver after taxi driver offers his service. Even after 15 Minutes (scarce traffic!) the men don't understand the idea of hitchhiking. It's amazing if you know that a hundred meters back on the Turkish side most people would understand 'autostop'.

First Iranian Lift! Merci!

The sixth car in total that we see leaving the border is our's. The two guys are Iranian Kurds. We can further our Kurdish on a short hop to the first big town in Iran: Orumiyeh. We see fundamental differences: There are apparently only four types of car brands in Iran: Two local companies that build KIA cars under licence, one with Peugeot engines and Peugeut itself as the only foreign brand (only three different models from three decades I think, latest Peugeot 207.



Another fact that leaps to the eye:  The single only place where you see Latin characters are on road signs. We are in a really different part of this world: Let's explore Iran!

Handsome IRAK

On the most adventuresome and dangerous leg of our trip we go deep into Southeast-anatolian territory: Kurdistan. Although people told us it is not wise to go there, we have an awesome time hitching with locals.

On a junction just meters off Iraqi territory.

Dunno what happened to this car.

For about 500 meters we are on Iraqi soil!!!
It is a once-in-a-lifetime-experience!



The landscape is jaw-dropping: Huge mountains, remote villages and goat herding.
At the border we are actually not allowed to take pictures. Anyways. Here for you:



More to come!

Heroes of Cappadocia

Our second night in the hammocks is better, but still freezing. Tired,
we have a fast breakfast and pack our stuff.

After 10 minutes waiting for a lift, Craig runs to an oldtimer at the traffic light near us.

The four Dutch guys inside are fascinated by our journey and invite us
to get in, although there is no place left. We squash us between them and "join
the party".



For the third time we are asked, whether we are brothers or "warm brothers".
A village later, they drop us and we make a crazy picture together.
While driving away they shout: "You are heroes!"

Hitching an old Ford limousine with Dutch warm brothers.

It was just a short ride, we're still in Cappadocia. I will shorten
our next lifts, there is too much to tell about each of them:
- Mesut, a German-speaking guy on holidays
- Hahlet, quiet man without any English knowledge
- Kaimaluddin, a very friendly Teacher, who invited us to Lahmacun &
Ayran in Nidge
- Mahmut, sympatic Truck-driver, who invited us to Adana Kebab & Coke
(second Lunch) at a gas station
- Vali, who taught us some things about Turkey and Kurdistan
- Ghengis (Khan), open-minded, speaks English and helped us a lot,
especially with his Mercedes (~180 km/h)
- A truck driver, we forgot to ask for his name, told us to be carful in Iran

We get dropped at the fringe of Gaziantep. Luckily people are interested in people hiking along the expressway. They stop and offer their help:



On the way to the city centre we call Mustafa, our CouchSurfer in
Gaziantep and make a meeting point.

He picks us up and we are instantly amazed by his friendliness and way
of life. We arrive at his home at night, take a shower and offer him
fruits and nuts.

While watching RTL German Television (!), we talk about the idea of
CouchSurfing and he explains his new project, a
CouchSurfing/hitch-hiking tour through the United Kingdom. We wish him all the best for this project.

Luckily we can wash our clothes and can enjoy a good sleep.

Direct lift to Ankara

We got up very early this morning, there is a long way to travel! With
2 bananas, some cookies and a water bottle equipped, we stand on the
O2, the motorway to Ankara.

Waiting for people to understand our sign, suddenly a public bus stops
in front of us and the driver tells us to get in. First we hesitate,
did he understand where we are going?

But we decide to try our luck and we succeed: The bus brings us to a
better part of the "otobahn", where more cars join in.

5 minutes later, we're lucky again: A friendly Turkish guy in his
fourtıes offers us a ride.



Another lift, another great life experience: Ayhan is an aquatic
engineer and builds huge aquariums for zoos, hotels and restaurants.
We are excited and ask a lot of questions. He has to go to Ankara to check
materials from China for his new project. We tell him about our
experience in the water tunnel on Sentosa, Singapore.

Out of the blue he offers us breakfast and aims at a gas station.
Inside the flat building a huge restaurant is located and we can't
believe our eyes as we see the buffet: Seven different sorts of
cheese, large cans with honey, olives, almonds and mountains of bread!
We carefully choose our food and enjoy our breakfast with "chai" and
fried eggs.



You'll never find anything comparable in Germany!

As we continue our journey, the landscape slowly changes from green to
yellow as we head to Ankara.

As we arrive about 4 hours later, it's 38 degree Celsius, so we search
for some shadows.

Istanbul's dark side^^

Arriving at Furkan's place, he tells us to relax first and we accept
thankfully.

With Furkan & Bekir on Istanbul Shopping Avenue

The sun is going down, as we head to Taksim, the central
"Independence" square in old Istanbul. From here it's tough to explain
everything: We have a fun time in nightly IST. Furkan introduces us to
many friends and we talk about politics, traveling and friendship!

Furkan gives us a thrilling "Japanese-style" sightseeing tour: The
whole city in 5 hours!

Best example: At the Muslima Mosque, we get an introduction into the
ritual washing: Hands, Arms, Mouth, Nose, Ears, Neck and Feets -
according to the grade of dirtiness.



At 2 o'clock we fall in bed like rocks - Iyi geceler Furkan!

"Chürgen" Lift

We just landed at Attatürk Airport and our first thought is: How to
get into the city? We check the map and call Furkan, our Couchhoster,
that we plan to hitchhike to his place.

At the parking exit, many taxis desperately try to get us in. Out of
the blue, a transporter with two crazy looking guys stops and we get
in. It took us one minute to get the first Turkish lift!

With hands and feets we overcome the language barriers. The two work
for Europcar and bring cars from A to B. They stage a race on the
Istanbul highway! At one time they move the cars in a parallel
position and Barosch tries to throw a bottle to Ikram's car. No
wonder, that he misses at 190 km/h!



At an inclining street, at a traffic light, Ikrame bumps the car from
behind, makes an explicit gesture and starts to laugh loudly (lol). We
join in =)

They drop us at 4.levent, a Metro station close to Furkan's place.

PS: "Chürgen" means crazy!

Wir sind VDBs!

Nach Stuttgart zu trampen hat super geklappt. Deshalb haben wir auch noch einen sehr großen Zeitpuffer bis zum Boarding. Wir erkunden das Flughafengelände und gehen nochmal richtig deutsch essen: Cheeseburger und Milkshake bei McD ;-) Neben uns werden zwei deutsche Geschäftsleute auf unser Schild aufmerksam. Wir bekommen Cigarillos angeboten und werden von Peter zu einem Drink ins Kempinsky Hotel (wooot wooot) in Mumbai eingeladen - falls wir denn tatsächlich bis dorthin kommen. Natürlich Peter! See you in Kempinsky Mumbai!

"Mumbai und Kuala Lumpur - ist das nah beieinander?"

Um 20.00 sind wir unter den ersten Passagieren am Check-In. Da wir einen Rucksack aufgeben möchten, reichen wir unsere bereits am Automaten ausgedruckten boarding passes über den Counter. Die Frau schaut kurz auf die Tickets, mustert uns dann und sagt mit einem gelassenen Blick: "Jungs, wir haben ein Angebot für euch!" Dario verdreht die Augen. Auch ich erwarte ein nervende Umfrage mit kleinem Dankeschön oder Kredikarten-Angebot. Die hübsche Germanwings-Angestellte löst die genervte Spannung: "Die Maschine ist überbucht. Wir geben euch eine hübsche Summe und ihr fliegt statt heute Abend, morgen früh um 10 Uhr mit Turkish Airlines nach Istanbul."
Ungläubig schauen wir uns an. Nach kurzem Überlegen willigen wir ein. "Kommt bitte 20 Minuten vor Abflug hierhin und es wird sich zeigen, ob wir tatsächlich überbucht sind."

Völlig gehyped von der Situation schlendern und springen wir aus dem Terminal, um noch einmal etwas Zeit im Freien zu verbringen. Aber noch ... ist nichts eingetütet.

20 Minuten vor Check-In-Schluss stehen wir am menschenleeren Counter. Gert (Name der Redaktion bekannt) sagt "Es sieht leider für euch schlecht und für uns gut aus: Momentan sind 138 von 144 Passagieren eingecheckt und wie gesagt, sind wir mit zwei Plätzen überbucht." Noch fünf Minuten Spannung.

Dann, tatsächlich: Eine fünfköpfige türkische Familie fliegt um die Ecke und sprintet sichtlich gestresst zum Check-In-Schalter.

Wir grinsen uns an. Gert grinst uns an. 10 Minuten und viel Aufregung, Diskussion und Spaß später haben wir den Deal unterschrieben und halten kostenlose ICE-Vouchers, Lufthansa-Tickets ab München und das "Germanwings-Geschenk" in der Hand. Wir erfahren, dass wir im Fachjargon als Voluntary Denied Boarding bezeichnet werden. Wir verabschieden uns herzlich, bedanken uns und tauschen Adressen aus. Ein paar Meter weiter lassen wir unserer Freude noch mal freien Lauf: Juhuuuuu!

Jetzt müssen wir also mitten in der Nacht vom Flughafen mit der S-Bahn zum Stuttgarter Hbf, von dort mit einem ICE nach München und dort nehmen wir eine S-Bahn zum Flughafen (Edmund Stoiber lässt grüßen).

ICE-Vouchers.

Wir brauchen jetzt Schlaf. Man war das ein ereignisreicher und erfolgreicher Tag.


Update: Auf unserer Tour haben wir so viel Glück gehabt und Liebe, Spaß und Gastfreundschaft erlebt. Dankbar dafür möchten wir einen Teil des Germanwings-Geschenk für wohltätige Zwecke spenden.

Türkischer Gleisbau-Ingenieur

Nach ein paar Happen Brötchen fangen wir an die Menschen an der Zapfsäule anzusprechen. Ein Holländer, der sein Segelflugzeug in einem etwa 10 Meter langen Hänger transportiert kann beweisen, dass er keinen Platz hat, wünscht uns aber alles Gute.

Dann, welch ein Glück: Zufällig spreche ich Cem an - er ist Türke, frisch gebackener Vater (Glückwünsche!) und arbeitet als Gleisbau-Ingenieur.
Als er aus der Tankstelle kommt reicht er uns Red Bull: Zum ersten mal haben wir etwas ausgegeben bekommen - typisch türkisch hoffentlich?!!
Über Cems Arbeit erfahren wir interessante Dinge: Bauingenieurstudium in Darmstadt, Unternehmensgründung benannt nach den Heimatstädten von Cem uns seiner Frau - wie lieeeb! - und vieles mehr.
Damit kommt hier die wichtige Info:

Falls ihr ein Gleis bracht, beauftragt Cems Firma Sami ;-)

Cem ist auch so nett uns ein bisschen türkisch beizubringen. Er bestätigt auch die Korrektheit von den Sätzen vom Dönermann in Köln (wir hatten aufgrund eines schelmischen Lächelns darauf getippt es seien Schimpfwörter - also Danke auch an Colonia Grill).

Außerdem gibt uns Cem noch wertvolle Tipps für Türkei und seine Sehenswürdigkeiten.

Am Flughafen verabschieden wir uns authentisch: Ein Kuss auf jede Wange! Tessekurler Cem! Es war eine tolle Fahrt mit dir!

Pod, Prison, Porsche & Permanent-Camper

Toothless Igor from Slovenia has just dropped us on the gas station Sinsheim. Now he accelerates his big truck and honks loudly to mean goodbye. Sadly we cannot keep in touch with him - he has no mail address.

A van stops next to us. As the window goes down a distinct we see some distinct facial expressions. Or as we say colocially in German: "Bewusstseinserweiternde Substanzen." it's two hippies. Apparently they've seen our card board: "We are going to Pakistan." - "Whaaaat?" -"No, only joking!" Unfortunately we quickly find out that our route diverges significantly. Going with them would be nuts. Anyways fun smalltalk.

After a short break, on our way to the gas pumps we spot a Porsche Panamera. The guy looks like he's originally from a southeast Asian country: Let's try!

The story is really thrilling: Some short introductory phrases - "I'm just out of prison" - "We need to go to India, Thailand ... You are from Asia, innit?" - "It's better for you if I don't take you with me." - "You must know: It'd be awesome to hitch a ride in a Prosche." - "Oh ... The Panamera. That's one of the cheapest of our cars." - "Please convince him of givin' us a lift, please!" - "It's better for u I don't take you!"

What an enthralling talk. We still can't figure out what he does and why he was in prison.

In front the restaurant an easy-going guy says yes: Dario jumps in the back of the VW bus T3. Terk has a Nordic name, works as a teacher of geography and politics in Hamburg, drinks Club Mate (wantwantwant) and lives in the VW we are riding right now. After a while I get nervous as his navigation system proposes a faster route off the Autobahn. Before we  reach a parking we turn right on a provincial road: First problem!

Luckily non of us understands the navigation system which directs us back on the motorway.

Terk drops us only 2 kilometers before his exit on yet another gas station: Wunnenstein, 40 kilometers north of the Stuttgart airport. We're almost there.

Der Zahnlose Igor

Diese Raststaette ist etwas kleiner im Vergleich zu den beiden vorherigen und etwa
die Hälfte der Fahrer sind mit dem LKW unterwegs.

Doch genau das sollte uns am Ende helfen: Während ich genüsslich mein ersten
Käsebrötchen verschlinge, fragt Craig einige Trucker und winkt mich
schließlich grinsend zu einem riesigen Zug herüber.

"Ich bin 56, ich bin Grossvater, das ist normal!"

Nach dem ersten Blick steht sein Spitzname fest: Der zahnlose Igor.
Bereits 11 Jahre auf allen Straßen Europas unterwegs, kann er dutzende
Sprachen sprechen und ist ein alter Hase auf deutschen Autobahnen. Er
ist bereits Großvater, seine Familie lebt in Slowenien und vor dem
Trucken hat er mit Kobold Großcomputer programmiert! Wir sind
beeindruckt und genießen die Fahrt in Führerhaus.

Dankjewel Mirta und Luuk!

Die gesamte Raststätte ist voll. Allerdings sind nur wenige deutsche

Früh-Fahrer unterwegs. Die Masse machen unsere Nachbarn aus dem

schönen "Nederlands" aus. Wir fragen uns mit "Gud Dag" und

"Dankjuwell" durch die Urlauber, doch viele sind schon voll oder

nehmen "aus Prinzip" keine Tramper mit.

Nach ca. 20 Minuten sind wir schon fast am verzweifeln, bis uns

plötzlich ein junger Mann entgegen kommt und uns mit "Wir haben net

viel Platz, wir können versuchen" begrüßt. Er hatte unser Schild

"Richtung Indien" gesehen.

Das Auto ist tatsächlich ein wenig zu klein für ihn, seine Freundin,

uns beide, unsere Rucksäcke und ihrer kompletten Campingausrüstung.

Doch nach dem Motto "Je voller desto doller" quetschen wir uns zu den

beiden rein.

Sie studieren beide Fotografie in Amsterdam und sind auf dem Weg nach

Frankreich. Craig kann ihnen einen schönen Campingplatz in der Nähe

von Freiburg empfehlen und ich lerne neue Bands kennen (--> Kraftwerk)

und diskutiere mit beiden über die Notwendigkeit von vier

verschiedenen Bechersorten beim Campen :D

Wir wünschen den beiden viel Glück und werden an der Raststätte

Hardstedt rausgelassen.

Mirta showing where we are. Luuk shows where we wanna go.

First Lift: Richtung India

Der große Tag ist da! Wir lassen uns von Travel-College Felix auf die
Raststätte Königsforst bringen und suchen nach unserem ersten "Lift".

Let's be honest: Direction India please!

Schon nach 5 Minuten finde ich ein Pärchen, das beruflich nach Wien
muss: Perfekt! Auf der Fahrt lernen wir die beiden besser kennen. Er
verkauft Fertighäuser und hat früher an Windsurfwettbewerben
teilgenommen, sie ist Krankenschwester und erklärt uns wie in Japan
die Wohnungsgröße angegeben wird: In Matten.

Nach der Ankunft auf der Raststätte Bad Camberg werden uns noch ein
paar Pfirsiche und viele Ratschläge gegeben und wir verabschieden uns
von den beiden. Der erste "Lift" meines Lebens war aufregend!

Our Hennessys - Social Sponsoring

Finally the requests that we sent out to numerous outdoor companies for a social sponsoring arrangement bear fruit: The small private company Hennessy Hammocks do what their name says: Great hammocks!

As we planned our trip and after having pondered with friends about the accommodation gear we finally opted for the hammock solution in favor of traditional tents. Reasons are first and foremost weight and versatility. Other nice aspects are the small and flexible packing, the small footprint and thus minimized surface that we have to clean or dry after a night.

We just received the shipment and we tried our hands on it in the nearby park in Cologne.



The hammocks are simply perfect for our tour: Weighing a mere 700 g for the single Hyperlite and 1600 g for the Safari Deluxe which actually can sleep the two of us. We ordered the Hyperlite in the asym zip configuration (zip on one side) that hopefully allows for a more controllable exit. We decided to take the Safari Deluxe in the traditional velcro classic configuration (halfway velcro closure in the bottom) to make way for independent exit in the center. In an asym configuration sleeping two, one might face difficulties to exit through the side. We'll post more videos once we're in a more exotic environment and got used to the setup ;-)

We are really looking forward to use our Hennessys - the best tent in the world and possibly a really cool hitch-hikers companion or as they say:

"It's a hammock. It's a tent. It's a chair. It's a Super Shelter!"

8000+ kilometers of Thanks to Hennessy Hammocks!