All travellers, especially solo backpackers, should pack a healthy amount of 'serendipity' before they leave home. Life's fortunate encounters are the longest lasting memories. You may also have heard that everyone on the Planet is separated from anyone else by no more than six degrees of separation.
That is, that you are linked via a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend to a friend. This might sound dubious with 8 billion people living on the planet and some of the links may even be tenuous. However once you set out on the open road there just might be a pleasant truth to this. Armed with these two companions you'll have no need to keep permanent companions and you can travel where-ever the wind takes you.
I had been travelling south for two weeks now. Hitching was a slow business. It was to be expected as I was in the middle of the Algerian Sahara. I had allowed myself one month to make the crossing. I didn't expect to see many Europeans in this month.
That night I washed an omelette down with sweet tea. I was camped at a small junction. A ramshackle hut with one occupant was the junction's only noticeable landmark. It marked a point where one road went east for a thousand kilometres and another south for a thousand kilometres. Yellow horizons ran into every distance. I was waiting for my next lift.
I was happy to wait despite the harsh and unforgiving nature of the land. It is a scorched land that burns the unwary victim. Only brackish water was there to cool my lips. Hardly a luxury to remind me of the sweet taste of home. This did not matter in the cool evening as the stars hunted the evening sun to the earth's rim. I fell asleep below an open sky as I watched Orion chase the Bear across the inky night.
The desert was something I had always wanted to experience. Even though when I left England I was headed for Australia via the land. It seemed like even more of an adventure than some of the mountaineering I had done in the Alps that summer. There blue skies, white tops and lush valleys made for a vast contrast. However with summer dying grey skies had put me off Russia and the wind took me south, to Africa instead.
The nest day I was able to flag a truck down after only a few hours wait. The cheery driver took me south through some hamlets in the desert. A truck driver's job is a good one in this part of the world. He was a man of status and took me to visit his numerous families and wives along the way. A day later I found myself in In Salah. With only 400 miles to Tamanrasset I now felt confident that actually hitching across would work. I also knew Tamanrasset was the crossroads of the Sahara where all wood-be overlanders congregate for the final leg. Finding a lift and company should be easy. I hoped.
When I walked into camp I thought I recognised the car. It was a dusty 2CV. The remote location made me hesitate. However I was sure it was Samantha and Rob in the middle of the desert. I had climbed with Rob's father in the Alps. I had briefly met them in a campsite that summer.
The world was a small place and getting smaller. This remote oasis was the last place I'd expect to see a link in my life. The wind had taken me south on a dream. The wind had taken us both south without a mention to each other. Like ships passing in the night. Then there was that time in a bar in Sydney I dumped into an old university friend by accident. Another trip to Ireland had me meeting a distant and unknown cousin by accident. Then there was a friend's father who was going out with the aunt of a companion I knew from Colombia. The list of links and chance encounters keeps growing. The solo traveller is open to chance encounters and after-all life's little accidents are often the best ones to have. Travel alone with the wind and I am always surprised where it takes me and with who.
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