when hari met marta
During my Christmas trip I met the best truck driver in the whole world – born and raised in Slovenia, young Bosnian guy called Hari.
I was hitchhiking from Italy to Slovenia one day before Christmas eve. The route seemed easy but somehow it was difficult for me to get a further lift. I landed on a so-so spot just before the highway in Perdenone. Every driver who pulled over was going only a few kilometers and I was desperate to catch a ride at least to Portogruaro. In fact one of those who stopped was going there but I let it go away by a mistake (cazzo!). When I saw a Slovenian truck my eyes started shining but unfortunately, it passed me. No big deal, no big deal – I heard a voice inside my head.
I knew that sooner or later someone would stop and that it’d be a great ride. Caminho would send me some kind soul. I just had to wait few
A second Slovenian truck was going my direction. I raised my hands in an imploring gesture. The driver wound down the window.
– (surprised) Zdravo!
– Za Slovenija?
I jumped cheerfully into the cabin and our trip started. Hari was going to pass Ljubjana on his way to Celje but first he had to load up his truck in a transport port in Koper. I decided to go with him all the way as I didn’t want any short rides anymore and he seemed a really cool person, too.
We spoke a strange mixture of Slovenian and Bosnian (he) and Serbian and Macedonian (me). Sometimes it was difficult to understand each other but we always ended up laughing. There was Bosnian music, there were cookies and after crossing the Italian-Slovenian border also the blackcurrant juice especially for me.
Thanks to Hari I saw a real transport port for the first time in my life. It was enormous! There were hundreds of containers, halls, heaps of scrap. We went inside with a truck which was filled with tons of soya with a special hoist. Hari also took me to the offices where he had to deliver documents.
– Jas čekam tuka.
– Hajde, hajde!
If there was more time, we’d go for a walk in the centre of Koper but the sun was slowly setting and I wanted to be in Ljubljana before nine. We continued the travel stopping for a coffee at one gas station. Latte macchiato, mmmm…
I was in heaven.
Just before reaching the Slovenian capital Hari called my friend Blaž in order to set our meeting point. He dropped me off at the ring close to students’ dormitories where we were about to stay for a night with Blaž. Hari left me his mobile number (a sort of unwritten ritual between
a hitchhiker and a driver), we hugged and I left wishing him a good trip further and
a merry Christmas.
By the time I had no idea our paths
would cross again…