Diary Of An Archaeologist - Wattys 2019 Non-fiction Winner

That Time I Got A Lift From An Angel

This week I wanted to give you guys another sort of story. Nothing scary or dark, but rather something short and sweet. This incident actually took place during my time at the Rooswijk excavation. Whether it was before or after our pirate encounter, I'm not sure. 

A little recap for those who don't remember what the Rooswijk excavation was; It's an underwater excavation of a 17th-century Dutch trading ship in the British Channel. For more information, check the chapter, "That Time We Brought Pirates To Our Treasure".

Because during that excavation we were at sea for days, sometimes weeks on end, cramped up in tiny spaces, most of us would enjoy the freedom we had whenever we came back to shore. It wasn't anything personal, but everyone on the team just treasured that little alone time we couldn't have at sea.

I mean, I love the sea, it is one of my passions. But living on a ship for weeks is not as exciting as you would think, and regardless of how kind all the people are you really crave some alone time after living in an apartment-seized compartment with a crew of twenty for two weeks. On a ship, there is little to no privacy at all. Except on the toilet or in the shower, well, if you're lucky and someone is not waiting for you to get out because they really have to go.

Anyway, this particular weekend I had two days off to explore, so I decided to go to Dover on my own.
Our campsite was 10 miles from the first bus stop, but being cramped up on a ship for twenty days, I didn't mind the walk.
After all, it was a beautiful summer day, and the walk was really refreshing until I realised I had no idea if I was even going in the right direction.

I had been walking on a single lane road through extensive farming wields for about 30 minutes, and I had absolutely no idea where I was. Google maps wasn't any help either since it couldn't pinpoint my location. I contemplated going back to the campsite when a car drove up behind me. I heard it slow down as it approached me, so I got off the road, preparing myself to make a run for it.

Mama didn't raise no fool!!

But as it came closer, I could see a frail elderly woman in the driver's seat of a silver cabriolet. She waived to me, and I waived back, already glad that this woman probably meant no harm.

She greeted me politely with a posh British accent and ask me where I was going. Not wanting to seem like a lost idiot, I answered I was walking to the bus stop.

She tilted her head in surprise, asking if I meant the bus to Dover, to which I responded yes.

Turns out I had walked in the opposite direction and was now 20 miles away from the bus stop.

I guess she could see the shock on my face when I heard that I was so far away. So she offered me a ride.

Now, I'm against taking a ride from a stranger and wouldn't even dare to hitchhike, but for some reason, I trusted this lady, so I got in the car.

The first thing she said to me when I entered the car was, "I always tell my grandchildren to never go with a stranger, and I've normally never pick anyone up from the road, but you seem like a fine young lady, and I can't bear letting you walk all alone in the middle of nowhere."

I told her that I usually wouldn't get in a car either to which she gave me these words of wisdom: "Just because something seems dangerous doesn't mean that you should never do it. A life in fear is a life in your own mental cage. It's okay to be cautious, but never let that stop you from helping someone."

Along the way, we talked about the excavation, her grandchildren, and basically all things under the sun. She dropped me off safe and sound at the bus stop, and I thanked her for her kindness and wise words.

Whoever's grandmother she is, you better treasure her, she's an angel. And regardless of how dangerous my job might seem with some of the stories I tell, I also get to meet plenty of amazing people.