In October 2026 I hitchhiked from northern Italy to Cappadocia in central Turkey: five days, six countries — Italy, Slovenia, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria and Turkey — and about 2,740 km on the road.
This was my last big hitchhiking trip. After Tarifa to Germany I had reached my goal of crossing Europe by thumb — but one piece was still missing: Southeast Europe. This trip was meant to close that gap.
Day 1 — Into Slovenia
I flew from Copenhagen to Bergamo very early in the morning. First task: buying a gas bottle for my stove, since you can't fly with one. Luckily there was a shop nearby. Then heavy rain started. The east side of the airport was close as the crow flies, but a river was in the way — so I took a bus on a long loop through the city to get there.
My spot was a place where cars slow down but have no real chance to stop. Hitchhiking on the motorway is forbidden in Italy, so I was worried. It worked anyway: a truck driver picked me up in under 15 minutes and dropped me near Palù. About an hour later a couple took me to the next petrol station, and after another wait a truck driver heading to Hungary stopped. He couldn't take me further than Ljubljana, but he dropped me at a perfect petrol station on the motorway just south of the city.
Rain, a bus loop and a shopping trip — and still a very good first day. 443 km.
Day 2 — Through Croatia to Belgrade
The rain had started exactly as I finished pitching my tent the evening before, and it was still going when I packed up in the morning. I had hoped to stay in my tent a little longer and wait for it to stop, so I could pack up dry — but that plan didn't work out. The target for day two: Belgrade, straight across Croatia. An older man coming from Austria, on his way to the Croatian coast, took me to Zagreb.
Then something happened that had never happened to me before: the well-placed petrol station I was aiming for was under construction and completely closed. I thought about going along the coast towards Turkey instead, but that would have cost an extra day, and I wanted as many days as possible in Istanbul. So I found another petrol station where I could cross to the other side of the motorway — a 15–20 minute detour. My driver was so nice that he walked all the way across with me, just to make sure I wasn't stranded.
Right after, a truck driver picked me up for a long stretch. After 15 minutes he had to take his mandatory 30-minute break, and trucks are slower than cars anyway, so I started to worry about reaching Belgrade. He dropped me a few kilometres before the Serbian border. The moment I got out, a man came out of the petrol station and asked if I was hitchhiking. I said Sofia — and that turned out to be exactly where he was going. He was an experienced hitchhiker himself. He saved my afternoon and dropped me at a petrol station in Belgrade.
From the Serbian border on I had no internet. I had warned friends and family beforehand, and it was an interesting experience. That night I slept behind the petrol station, in a patch of forest next to an industrial area — one of the weirdest places I have ever pitched my tent. I felt more like a homeless person than a wild camper. It turned out to be completely safe. No rats, nothing. 566 km.
Day 3 — Belgrade to Sofia
The petrol station from the night before was a bad spot: it sits on a road into Belgrade, so everyone there was heading into the city, not out of it. The trick: public transport in Belgrade is free. I rode across the city to the other side and found a better petrol station.
After 20–25 minutes a guy picked me up. Because of some poor communication, the ride went in the wrong direction, away from my plan. So I was standing at a motorway entrance again. This one wasn't an easy place for cars to stop, but my gut told me someone would — I had stood at worse spots, and it had worked. After about 30 minutes I got picked up. A little later the driver dropped off his friend, continued, and let me out at the Gazprom station near Velika Plana, about 80 km further south. I thought it was a good spot: frequent traffic, cars driving slowly and enough space to stop for a moment. It actually took longer than I expected — but it still worked, and another car took me to a petrol station close to Niš.
There I had my first experience with wild dogs. They seemed more scared than aggressive, but I didn't feel comfortable sleeping there — and Sofia, my target for the day, was still far away. I also met another hitchhiker — only the third or fourth I have met on all my trips. Still more than I have ever seen while driving a car myself. After talking to people I made it to the next petrol station past Niš, where I met a couple who had just changed a flat tyre.
They took me all the way to Sofia, crossing out of Serbia late at night. They were possibly the nicest people I met on the whole trip. It was already 11 p.m. after their full day of driving, but instead of going around Sofia they drove me through it to show me the city, and then dropped me at a good petrol station for the next morning — even though they were a bit worried about leaving me there. They convinced me to come back for a weekend in Sofia, and I'd love to see them again. 424 km.
Day 4 — Into Turkey
In Sofia I approached people directly at the pumps to speed things up. A nice man heading to Stara Zagora took me first; together we worked out the best place to drop me before I turned south, and he left me at a good petrol station. A truck driver then took me close to the border. He had to stop for tolls and customs and said he might not cross until the next day — too long for me, so I got off at a busy Shell station before the border.
There I asked a driver if he was going to Edirne or Istanbul. Edirne, as it turned out. He turned out to be a Turkish diplomat working in Bulgaria, and he cut through the border formalities wherever he could. The crossing took about 20 minutes, including some relaxed chats. He dropped me at the Shell just behind the border, the only reasonable petrol station before Edirne. It was busy, but nobody stopped.
Then a truck driver offered to take me after a ten-minute errand. The errand was picking up his kebab dinner — and the moment we started driving, he handed it to me. I had just eaten and was incredibly full.
My first impressions of Turkey: the air was quite polluted, brown and yellow near the ground, with lots of small fires on the fields — apparently allowed again now that it's cold and wet enough. Passing Edirne and the other cities, I was amazed at how many apartment blocks were under construction at the same time. He drove around Istanbul on the motorway, crossed the Bosphorus and dropped me at a huge petrol station on the Asian side: lots of people, a 24/7 Starbucks and places to sleep. Ideal for sleeping and for continuing the next day.
At the border I had briefly considered ending the trip in Istanbul. That would have been fine too — but once I had a spot this good, I kept going. 587 km.
Day 5 — Across Anatolia to Cappadocia
I didn't wait too long in the morning, though I didn't leave super early either — the place felt too busy to stay long. The first sign: Bolu. My first ride took me to a petrol station with an outlet centre that I expected to be busy. It wasn't, and nobody stopped. It was warm, and I stood on the wide, safe road leading to the motorway entrance. Still no luck.
Then two guys with a broken car stopped and offered to take me to Bolu — but they said they had “run out of money for the toll” and needed to get some from someone — or from me — to continue. It felt too weird. For the first time, I said no to a ride because of my gut feeling, not because of the direction. They came past again and asked several more times. I stayed with my decision, and it was the right one.
Back at the petrol station, after ten minutes, a driver heading to Ankara picked me up and dropped me just before the city at around 2–3 p.m. That's when I realised I could still make Cappadocia that day. It started raining, but the station was busy and covered, and a truck driver stopped who was going to Kayseri. That was my last ride.
Göreme is about an hour from Kayseri, and it was already dark. The driver also said that smaller towns are less safe than big cities — so I took the bus for the last stretch and arrived at my hostel in Göreme at around 9:30 p.m. 720 km.
The whole route
Five days, six countries, about 2,740 km — from northern Italy to the middle of Turkey, using only rides.
The kindest moments: the couple who drove me through Sofia at 11 p.m., the driver who walked me across the motorway, and a truck driver's kebab. The turning point: trusting my gut for the first time and saying no to a ride.
What I learned on this route: in Belgrade, free public transport is the easiest way to cross the city. Get off trucks before borders — their waits are unpredictable. Approach people at petrol stations directly. And always check which side of a petrol station faces the direction you want to go.