In 1971 I was a coach driver working on European tours. In those days there was so little work through the winter that most drivers were laid off from November to March, so this was an ideal opportunity for me to drive across the Sahara Desert to visit my brother who was working in West Africa at the time.
I had talked about the project on and off through the summer with my pal Martin, so when the last trip of the season, to Greece in late October, came to an end we invested £350 each in a second-hand Land-Rover, persuaded a couple of other interested people, Dee and Arnie, to to come along and share expenses, and after the organisation of such essentials as maps, jerrycans and spare wheels we eventually set off for Dover a couple of weeks before Christmas.
The ferry was fairly empty. Arnie was a gregarious American and while three of us studied maps of France and Spain in the bar he wandered off to see who else he could find to talk to. After about twenty minutes he reappeared with a rather scruffy-looking backpacker and announced that this was Jim from Long Beach California, and that Jim wanted to come with us. So we talked to this young man, and liked him, and offered him a ride to Africa. He had no real plan of where in Africa he wanted to visit and when I said our destination was Ghana he seemed to like the idea.
A couple of weeks later we were in Algiers waiting for visas for Niger, Dahomey and Togo. Arnie wandered off to have a look around and this time came back with another American backpacker, Pat, who also wanted to come with us. Pat seemed like a nice guy so we took him on board too and the six of us eventually set off for the south.
Halfway across the Sahara when we had reached the town of Tamanrasset in Southern Algeria Arnie decided that there were now far too many of us and he wasn't so keen on our group after all, so we parted company. He was last seen sitting cross-legged atop a local truck setting off in another direction entirely.
We eventually said goodbye to Jim in Accra, Ghana, a month after we met him on the boat to Calais, some 5400 miles down the road. Is this some sort of hitch-hiking record?
1970 photo taken by a roadside in Poland, during a hiking boom. Hiking was highly encouraged and popularized, with competitions, awards and millions of "Hiker Passports" issued to hikers.