Camping in Europe and Israel

Writer's Note: I'm in the process of writing a memoir about my first 30 years of life before getting married and raising a family. This post is one chapter in my memoir that I wanted to share. It took place many years ago but illustrates the fun and challenges I encountered while camping in Europe and Israel.

Camping for $3 or $4 Per Night (1982-1983)

When I left for Europe in May 1982, I planned to camp and stay at inexpensive youth hostels. Indeed, I intended to stay on a shoestring budget, so pensions (boarding houses) or hotels were out of the question. Besides, were hotels a good value? Why pay so much money when the majority of time is spent sleeping?

I purchased a one-year plane ticket through Icelandair, which provided flexibility in returning to the States at any time within that designated year. I planned to travel and work through various Northern, Central, and Southern European regions. The blue internal frame Wilderness Experience backpack ($100 in '82) was a perfect traveling companion. I opted for the inner frame to give me more flexibility and durability throughout Europe, and boy, did I choose correctly. There were many occasions when I could "squeeze" the backpack into tight spaces, especially in crowded trunks, something you couldn't do with the external variety. Also, when my back got sore with the backpack weight, I changed to carrying my backpack with the "bear hug" method, so the internal frame made it much more manageable.

My backpack contained my books, food, clothes, Sterno stove, mess kit, jacket, and miscellaneous items. The travel items included a two-person tent, mattress pad, sleeping bag, and water jug. Those travel items too large to fit inside my backpack were physically attached by straps to the outside. It didn't always look pretty, but having everything secured in one place helped ensure I didn't lose things during my travels.

Because I didn't plan to research the camping opportunities in Europe, I kept my tent and sleeping bag attached to my backpack and experimented with youth hostels, at least for the first month. After spending time in various youth hostels, I'd decide how best to spend the night. The first hostel I visited was in Trier, West Germany, which was small and quaint. I enjoyed the stay. Because there were limited things to see in Trier, besides being the oldest city in West Germany, I left on a train to Munich after a two-day stay.

Because Munich was a much larger city, finding a quaint youth hostel like Trier was hard, so I settled for a larger one. This hostel was a large gymnasium filled with metal bunk beds. All young men and women slept in the same cavernous space. Not all beds were occupied, but if someone on the other end of the room opened their mouth, regardless of the language, most heard it. With no curfew, there were several incidents where I was woken up at three a.m. by guests who were coming back from a local pub or Hofbrauhaus.

Being young, I tolerated it for several nights. After several days of touring Munich, I eventually found a camping site not too far from the city center. That allowed me more privacy and to sleep better while in Munich. I wasn't giving up on youth hostels; I just had to do a better job vetting those who were quieter and had a reasonable curfew.

Camping became my second nature – plenty of camping sites weren't too far from the city center. If a larger city, public transportation did the trick. When visiting a smaller city, camping availability was often within walking distance of town. I think I camped about 200 different nights on the trip, so I eventually became pretty adept at putting up my tent, initially taking me six minutes until I got it down to five. It was a green Eureka tent that weighed about three pounds and was relatively easy to assemble. I appreciate my older brother's recommendation – it was roomy enough and light and worked well for that year and beyond. The idea of having a reliable tent was invaluable – it kept me loving camping, mainly because it was easy and, for the most part, was quiet and private. Having the flexibility to either camp or stay in a youth hostel was welcoming when I visited a new city. Besides, I saved money using my camping gear except for severe impending weather in more expensive countries such as Sweden and Norway.

If setting up a tent and other camping accessories is hard to do, the task may impede some from this type of leisure. Several times at camping places, different campers set up their complicated tent while I began to work on mine. In some situations, after I had set up for the evening, I'd cracked open a beer while sitting on my mattress pad by the tent entrance, waiting for my soup to boil. Some other campers were still struggling with correctly assembling their equipment to protect them later from the elements. I did not laugh or snicker. I just watched in wonderment and gasped when this task evolved into arguing or bickering.

West Berlin Camping

As I mentioned in my next chapter, a friend and I took the Magic Bus from Amsterdam to West Berlin, and our scheduled arrival time was early evening. Because at the time West Berlin was surrounded by a communist country (East Germany or the Germany Democratic Republic), arriving early would increase our chances of securing inexpensive lodging once I arrived. When I first heard of GDR, I was pretty puzzled, considering a communist country could be considered a democratic republic, but I digress. Regarding the border crossing, several passengers on our bus had improper identification, so any magic was lost towards the end of our bus ride. Before the border crossing, several individuals passed joints, having purchased them in Amsterdam. This risky behavior was quickly extinguished once we arrived at the communist border.

While waiting, we thought this snafu would only last a few minutes, but we didn't know what to believe after one hour. One hour led to another, which led to another, and because of this bureaucracy, our scheduled arrival time was now close to ten pm. This meant our lodging options were significantly limited, and I was forced to spend much more money on lodging than my budget could handle, so after several nights, I found a camping option outside of West Berlin (as Berlin was still divided in 1982). It was about a 25-minute subway ride to a more rural part of West Berlin, so I sacrificed a minor convenience for inexpensive camping. Unfortunately, on the first night, I discovered this camping place was adjacent to the East Germany border fence. On several evenings, I could hear the German Shepard guard dogs (Schäferhunde) bark in the distance. At least I was on the free side. It was a surreal experience; you were inside a small, free zone surrounded by the Iron Curtain.

Scandinavian Good Fortune 

I spent about two months in Scandinavia and wanted to spend about a week in Stockholm, Sweden's capital (also referred to as "Venice of the North"). Lodging in 1982 was at least $25 per night, which I couldn't afford, even for a week. Technically, I could have afforded it, but that would mean no beer or food for over a week, so I chose camping. Once I got organized, I realized my clothes were in dire need of cleaning. It had been a long time since I visited a laundromat so on Friday evening, I reserved the washer and dryer for one hour the following day. Unbeknownst to me, there was an impending storm beyond the horizon and that night, it rained over five inches (about 12.5 centimeters). Mud had replaced grass patches throughout the camping location. Therefore, you had close to 50 wet and unhappy campers waiting to use the washer and dryer. I had to sheepishly walk to the front of the line after such a storm and explain in English that it was my turn. Was it sheer luck that I decided to launder my clothes on Saturday morning or did something in my mind prompt me to do so?

Pesky Norway Mosquitoes

Years ago, Scandinavian guidebooks brag about the fjords in Norway, cross-country skiing, peaceful people, and plenty of open space, but they leave out one minor detail – mosquitoes in the woods of Norway. This occurred on a two-lane highway between Oslo and Bergen. The distance between these two cities was less than 300 miles (less than 500 kilometers), which doesn't appear to be that far, but with very little in between, late evening hitchhiking wasn't a good plan. Around ten p.m., the lack of cars going to Bergen meant I might not make any more progress that day. Those rare cars that did pass either didn't see me or were not interested in my plight. It was midsummer in Norway, so it wasn't dark until midnight. I continued to pursue my task, thinking it would only take one person to make a difference. After another hour, I was resigned to hike into the woods and find a dry and level place to construct my tent.

At the time, Norway was a country that pioneered the right of public access. The idea, Allemannsretten (All Man's Right), was made into law by the Outdoor Recreation Act of 1957, which honors access and movement through unfarmed land, regardless of ownership. Knowing I could camp somewhere in the woods without legal recourse was comforting. 

As I walked into the woods, the mosquitoes furiously attacked me, and I hurried to find a secluded spot in the forest and quickly got my butt inside the tent. It was pretty warm for that time of day, so once I zipped down the mosquito netting on both sides of the tent, it allowed the tent to breathe. I was unprepared for so many mosquitoes; it was my first significant experience with these pesky critters in Europe. With all my travel preparation to Europe, I did not once read about the significance of mosquitoes. The night was memorable but not in a good way and not peaceful. Near my tent, my tent, I kept hearing forest sounds, and not knowing precisely what animals were nearby made me a little anxious. I didn't sleep well but knew greener pastures lay ahead once I returned to civilization. Luckily, I had plenty of water in the morning to freshen up and improve my chances of getting to Bergen.   

Pitching a Tent in Yugoslavia

In early October, the weather cooperated less in Central Europe, so I went from Austria down through Yugoslavia for a few weeks. I had heard through fellow travelers that petty crime was much more common in some regions of Yugoslavia, so I was careful about where I camped. Youth hostels were much less common, so I resigned to camping as I gradually approached Greece. While camping in Split, I chose a campground quite convenient to the downtown area. Bored, I attended a movie theatre for the first time in Europe. It starred Natalie Wood and Warren Beatty in English with Croatian subtitles. I only remember a little from the movie, but there was a tremendous thunderstorm in one scene. It was so loud and realistic, and I thought for a moment there was an actual storm outside the movie theater. After the movie, as I walked down the sloped landscape toward my tent, I saw streams of water trying to find the lowest elevation. I knew I was in trouble, and once I got back to my tent, I saw a river of water running through it. Because the weather had been hot and dry, that was the last thing I expected, but part of this adventure meant you dealt with the good and bad.

Camping in Paradise

In February of 1983, I met a Swiss woman on our Kibbutz in Central Israel. Claudia and I met in an old warehouse converted into a "homemade disco." While relaxing and listening to the music, she tapped me on the shoulder and told me to dance with her. We immediately connected and hung out quite a bit until we decided to travel together to Israel and Egypt. We both were tired of picking avocados and milking cows, so we had a good travel companion to explore things together. After spending a few days in Tel Aviv and regularly eating from falafel stands on the streets of Tel Aviv, Claudia and I moved to Eilat, a city at the northern tip of the Red Sea and the southernmost point in Israel. While in Eilat, I worked washing dishes behind the scenes, which wasn’t glamorous but earned me some shekels. Claudia got a job as a waitress, which didn't come as a surprise due to her demeanor. It didn't seem equitable that she got to earn extra money with her beauty and personality, and I was a shut-in merely washing dishes. Eilat was an international community, which meant English was spoken everywhere, and it was a laid-back town that allowed travelers to pick up odd jobs to supplement their travel expenses.

While working and enjoying Eilat, we heard of Taba, some six miles (ten kilometers) south of Eilat, with beautiful beaches and an excellent place to camp. It was the southernmost part of Israel, and even though we weren't weary of traveling, we thought we'd give it a shot. We also discovered this area was a politically disputed territory between Israel and Egypt, which meant visitors to Taba could camp on the beach for free. We could see the gulf of the Red Sea from our bedroom and kitchen. This stretch of beach was roughly a half mile in length (.8 kilometer), and about 20-30 individual campers felt the way we did with this unbelievable experience. A fence had been erected west of the beach that separated Egypt (the Sinai) from Israel.

According to Wikipedia, most of Sinai was returned to Egypt in 1982. However, Taba was not returned to Egypt until 1989. My trusted companion (Eureka tent) slept two comfortably, which Claudia and I called home for about seven weeks in early '83. Every morning, Claudia would remove the sleeping bags, mattress pads, backpacks, stove, and other miscellaneous camping gear and then force the sand granules inside our tent to the outside. There were outdoor showers, plenty of fresh water, and public toilets, so it was close to paradise. Nudity was allowed, provided the local authorities weren't present. Otherwise, several women were topless, which appeared to be condoned.  

We never had access to a car, so every third day, we'd head into town by bus, hitchhiking, or walking. We stocked up on bread, wine, fruit, cheese, and soup for several days. Because this area was disputed, bus service was unavailable. So, we'd either use our thumbs or legs or do both to get our necessary supplies. There was nothing between Eilat and Taba, so drivers from Taba were traveling at least six miles to Eilat, if not further. Hitchhiking was generally successful, with an attractive female. We rarely waited too long, but often, she rode in the cab, and I ended up in the cargo area.

Returning to Taba, we'd make meals on the beach with my portable Steno stove. Typically, we'd make soup in our pot, alternate between tomato and vegetable soup, and complement the soup with French bread, cheese, and crackers. The mess kit pan got very little use because we didn't eat red meat or chicken on the beach (how to keep it chilled in a desert?).

When not cooking, our sustenance consisted of dried fruits and nuts, fresh fruits, bread, and cheese. Claudia often claimed this was paradise, and my smile agreed. Our only expense for that time was food, which allowed us to stay longer than we had initially planned. We met fellow beach compadres who owned snorkeling equipment, allowing me to snorkel my maiden voyage. I've since snorkeled parts of Florida, Key West, Hawaii, Mexico, and the Cayman Islands, and my experience at the time in the Red Sea Gulf still resonates with me as the prettiest and most incredible reefs and corals I've ever seen in nature. 

Decades before mobile devices and computers, we still never got bored. We rarely saw a cloud with about 360 days of sun a year. The average rain was five days a year, although we experienced no rain during our stay. We had plenty of friends to hang out with, books to read and reread, as much fun as we wanted, walking on the beach, and enjoying the tropics. There were some well-traveled individuals we got to know, sometimes swapping stories about a given city or site. Surprisingly, not once in those seven weeks did I ever see any issues or conflicts with anyone on the beach. 

We'd go swimming early every other morning, as others were still wiping sleep from their eyes after a night lying on the sand. The Gulf of the Red Sea rarely had cool or cold-water temperatures. Even though the salty water sometimes got old, convenient fresh water and free outdoor showers were nearby. 

I initially thought the "Law of Diminishing Returns" would come into play here. Someone gives you a Frango mint, which you think is the best. You have another, and it's great but not the best mint ever. The third mint is still good, but without any other superlatives. As you consume more and more candy, the returns from each subsequent time will be diminished. The weird thing is, this principle didn’t appear to apply for our 50 days in paradise. It didn't seem like the following week was inferior to the last.

It was only after two months on Taba that we decided to move on. We were still trying to figure out whose decision that was, as it would never get any better than this. Regardless, we decided to travel more and see the Sinai and Egypt before returning to Europe. Once we said our goodbyes, we caught a bus at the border (a few steps away) and traveled through the Sinai Peninsula to Egypt's capital.

Camping in Europe and Israel