Hitchhiking from Barcelona into France

I use the hitchwiki to find out about the best spot to hitchhike out of Barcelona and into France, luckily I find someone on the way there who is also hitchhiking in the same direction and had done it before. Hence it was not very difficult to get out of Barcelona and closer and closer to the French Border. However just before the two of us manage to get over to France one woman that picked us up brought us away from the motorway and towards the small towns that are beautifully located along the coast line. This made it much more difficult to get continuous rides as people tended to only travel one or two villages from where we were. "Ok I must say I am at my wits end. The luck has not been with us so far. I guess sleeping out here would be a nice experience." I say to Paula, and then look towards the sea and beach in front of us. Framed by palm trees and with the warm wind of summer starting to come to the shore this little spot surrounded by old and small spanish houses was probably one of the nicest places to spend the night. "Let's wait a little more, after all it is just after noon so we still have plenty of time. In theory we'd even be able to walk across the border from here, that would definitely be a story to tell!" she answered reassuringly as she started walking towards a tiny petrol station and getting closer to the french border. I follow behind until we reach the petrol station and prepare a sign reading 'France'. It appeared that luck was on our side and we got a lift out of the small spanish village into the next village which was located just after the border of France. From there we managed to get another ride easily and this time luckily into a bigger town. We thought we had been lucky anyway until we realised that people in towns did not like to pick up hitch hikers and this will be a lesson I will never forget because towns are not nice to wait in whatsoever. However after begging and jumping up and down in front of the (it felt like) millionth car we get a ride to the next toll station. Here our paths split, Paula went into the direction of Belgium and I started travelling into the direction of Paris. After spending one night in Agen, a small picturesque town right in between Toulouse and Bordeaux, I travel up to Le Mans to stay with a friend of mine for a week. It was another week of introspection (like in Barcelona), this time in preparation of my time to come to Amsterdam.