30 minutes later I moved further up the road to a turn-off where the traffic was heavier.

Clearly the change in scenery worked. Almost immediately I struck gold as a medical student, Chris, pulled over and enthusiastically welcomed me aboard. He wasn’t driving to Brisbane but offered to drop me outside of the city at a shopping centre on the highway.

We parted ways at Westfield, Helensvale and I figured this was the perfect opportunity to fuel up and make a hitchhiking sign. I bought a Sharpie and asked a confused-looking shop assistant if I could have the packing cardboard they were recycling. I scribbled on the cardboard in my best bubble writing: ‘BRIS M1’.

At the M1 turn-off to the Gold Coast Highway, I dropped my backpack, swiftly moved it away from the river of Bull Ants (avoid them at ALL COSTS!), and perched on the hard shoulder.

Projecting my sign like the Bat-signal, I hoped someone would stop. After 15 minutes I added smiley faces and stars to the sign thinking it may increase my chances.

A ute (pickup truck to anyone outside of Australia and New Zealand) stopped. A pair of tradies on their way home, in their words, “took pity on me” and offered me a ride.

I climbed in.

They were incredibly friendly and on asking for recommendations in Brisbane they suggested a gentlemen’s club for “$5 lappies”; this wasn’t quite what I had in mind as I was more in the market for a good Negroni.

Bombing down the highway at well over the legal limit, it was time for their cigarette break. I was on the left most side of the three seater cabin and without looking, the man in the middle reached over to ash his fag out of the window and stubbed it out on my arm by mistake. I couldn’t complain, it was a free ride.

I asked the guys to drop me somewhere near Springwood so I could catch another ride, bypass the city, and continue on for the Sunshine Coast.