5 Lifetime Lessons from an Amazing Year of Hitchhiking
#2: The less you own, the more freedom you have.

Any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still know where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with.
— Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
One year. 30+ cities. 6000 kilometers. Countless hours standing on the side of the road and sitting in strangers’ cars. One journey — hitchhiking.
After I finished high school in 2012, I traveled through Australia, like a lot of German graduates do. However, I quickly decided that the beaten path and jumping from one overrun hostel to another and the occasional stop at some touristic hotspot in between wasn’t for me.
I wanted to do my own thing. I wanted to see the country as it was, which meant getting off the beaten path and mingling with the locals.
Since busses and trains only ran between major cities and I couldn’t afford a car, I decided to give hitchhiking a shot. For one year, it was just me and my backpack on the side of the road, with a thumb held up in the air.
Apart from a ton of experiences that range from funny (one guy peed himself while driving) to nerve-wracking (I almost got crushed underneath a tree), I’ve learned valuable and unique lessons that I’ll never forget.
Living out of a backpack, not having a home, and not knowing where you’ll be tomorrow gives you a perspective on life you can’t get anywhere else.
There Will Always Be a Way
This is the first thing I learned and the one that stuck more than anything else.
My journey wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes I waited for hours for a car to come by, only to be covered in dust when it flew past me. I often got stuck at night since nobody picks up a stranger for a ride when it’s dark and had to sleep outside. At one point I had $17 to my name and was in a foreign country with no job, no car, no home, and nothing but the clothes in my backpack. Another time, I spent my 20th birthday in complete solitude, without internet reception and happy birthday wishes, soaked through with rain, and covered with more than 100 leeches. No exaggeration, I counted.
Yeah, tough. But do you know what? I survived. Somehow, things worked out. Somehow, I got where I needed to get, managed to find a job, and got back on my feet. Somehow, I still had the time of my life and did things I hadn’t even dared to dream about before. Somehow, it was all worth it.
That doesn’t mean the universe will look out for you and you can put your feet up — hell no. When I was broke, I didn’t get a job because of my good looks. It took a lot of asking, talking, and persisting. But in the end, it always worked out.
There is no point in panicking. You’ll have to keep going, trust in yourself, and if you’re doing everything you can do, there will always be a way. Life will go on.
The Less You Own, the More Freedom You Have
When I left Germany, I had a big backpack, a small backpack, and a suitcase. I don’t know what I was thinking. I left the suitcase at a friend’s place after a month and ditched the small backpack a couple of weeks later.
When I brought all my things with me, I thought that having more stuff would make me freer because I had more opportunities. Hiking gear meant I could go hiking. Having a warm jacket meant I could go where it’s cold. And having four different pairs of shoes and 15 shirts meant I could always wear the perfect outfit.
The opposite was true. The more you own, the more commitments, obligations, and restrictions you have. With two backpacks filled to the brim with nice stuff, you have two backpacks filled to the brim with nice stuff. But at the same time, you will have to watch out for two backpacks filled to the brim with nice stuff. That’s not freedom. That’s being chained to your possessions.
I got very minimalistic after a while and I still am to this date. I rarely buy new stuff. When I move places, I chuck out everything that I didn’t use within the last year. Best decision ever.
This doesn’t only apply to traveling, but to all aspects of life. Think about it: Do you really need all the clothes in your wardrobe, all the gadgets in your kitchen, all the things in your basement that you used one time and then stuffed away? Or do they merely occupy space in your apartment and your brain because you worry about what to do with them, why you bought them, when to dust them off or what to do once you run out of space or want to move?
My dad once told me that “ownerships means obligation” and I’ll never forget it. If you want to be free and have less on your mind, get rid of stuff. You’ll be surprised how few things you actually need.
Don’t Be Afraid to Walk Your Own Path
If you do what everyone else does, you will get what everyone else gets.
― Stephen Richards
From my personal experience, I’d say that around 80% of the backpackers in Australia do the same east coast route — wild partying in Sydney in the South, diving and more partying in Cairns in the North. A couple of stops for beers and beaches in between.
We humans are social animals — we flock together and adjust our behavior to what the group is doing. This makes sense most of the time since what everyone else is doing is usually a sure bet and a proven concept. And because most of us go crazy for certainty and security, we stick to the beaten path. Even if we think about exploring the thick, untouched jungle, our peers are quick to hold us back. It’s unsafe. You don’t know what will happen. Why don’t you do what John Doe is doing? He’s happy with it.
Yes, straying off the well-trodden path will introduce a lot of uncertainty. You don’t know what will happen. There are tons of potential downsides.
But the rewards can be tremendous. I would not have seen and experienced half as much if I stuck to what everyone else did. I’ve been to places that none of the other backpackers have ever been to. I’ve seen untouched nature instead of tourist traps. I’ve lived with locals instead of spending my time drinking two-for-one jumbo cocktails with someone who’s been to the exact same cities and done the exact same things as me.
Look, I’m not saying that my way is the better way. Far from that. All I’m saying is my experience is very different from the one the majority has and I would’ve kicked myself in the butt if I didn’t have the courage to leave the beaten path.
This doesn’t mean you have to throw everything away, drop out of school, and hitchhike the world.
All it means is you should be courageous enough to leave the beaten path every now and then. It’s the only life you have, so do what you want to do instead of following suit just because everybody else does.
No Risk, No Reward
Ah, finally. I’m going to answer the question you guys all had in mind since you first read the word hitchhiking. Isn’t it dangerous?
Short answer: Yes, it is. But so is life.
In life, you don’t get stuff for free. You have to work for it. You have to take the risks. You have to put yourself out there and see what happens. No business was ever built by playing itself and not investing time and money without knowing if it would pay off. No relationship ever got to the next level by being afraid to share feelings and avoiding vulnerability. And no great story ever started with I’ll just stay in my room tonight where it’s nice and safe.
Was I doing something risky? Probably. Did I end up in uncomfortable situations? A few times. Was I rewarded with experiences I will never forget, lessons for life, and beauty I’d never have seen otherwise? Hell yeah.
Whether it comes to your relationship, your work, or your personal life — nothing comes for free. If you want to get rewards, you have to put in the effort and take the risks.
You’re Nothing but a Speck of Dust
One of the most impressive experiences I had was during a weeklong trip through the outback — the massive desert in the center of Australia, made of red dust, a couple of bushes, and some kangaroos. It’s one of the very few dark sky preserves left and one of the best spots for stargazing on the entire planet.
We were in the middle of nowhere. I slept outside, next to a died-out campfire, my eyes fixated on the sky. Only that what you see out there isn’t the night sky as you know it. With all the light and air pollution you have in the average city, you don’t even see a fraction of what you see when you’re hundreds of kilometers from the next human settlement.
Take it away and what you see is insane. Stars upon stars upon stars. Large ones, small ones. Our neighboring Andromeda galaxy and the center of the Milky Way. It feels like what you have seen so far when you looked up at night must have been some fake version of the sky. It’s the difference between a pixelated 360p video on YouTube and Ultra HD. It’s as mind-blowing as it gets.
When I looked up there, I realized for the first time in my life how infinitesimally small we humans are and how insignificant are our lives.
It’s easy for us to think we are the center of the universe. Our whole life revolves around us and we see everything through our own eyes. But once you have caught a glimpse of the infinity of the universe, you realize that you really are nothing. All your dreams, issues, hopes, and problems — on a universal scale, they are absolutely nothing.
This thought has helped me whenever I feel like my world crumbles. When everything goes downhill, I think back of that night and realize that whatever I’m dealing with right now isn’t as big of an issue as I make it out to be.
Stop taking yourself and your life so seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway. Stop obsessing and worrying about small details. Instead, appreciate what you have and be grateful you’ve been brought into this world. Enjoy being part of something that is too big for us to comprehend.
Enjoy the gift we call life.
If you like these insights from hitchhiking, you will also like the unconventionl life lessons I wrote about here.
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