We just spent our first night boondocking in our new van.   We stayed on a wharf in the Gaspé Peninsula in Quebec.  It was raining outside, but we were super comfortable in our king-sized bed with our heater humming in the background keeping us warm.  We made fresh coffee in the morning when we had a boondocking flashback to 1978.

Our mind drifted to our first time boondocking experience some 40 years ago in Greece.  We had just started our backpacking trip through Europe and arrived at the beautiful Island of Mykonos.  Wandering away from the main touristic city, we ended up on the beach and started walking.  I don’t think we really knew where we were going, or that we cared for that matter; we just walked on and took it all in.

We had 2 large backpacks that we had sewn ourselves and 2 cheap sleeping bags that we bought in Athens. I don’t think that we had any food with us. Did we have a plan? I don’t really remember, but I doubt it.  We just walked on.

In the afternoon we spotted a stone hut and thought that it might be a good idea to spend the night there rather than sleep in the open on the beach.  We had our own private beach and shelter from the elements, so we settled for the night.  What could go wrong?

It was cozy and warm in there and we slept really well until the goats tried to get back into their little stone barn.  A whole herd of them!  They were bleating and beh-he-heing, desperate to get in.  Tony courageously used a towel in an attempt to protect us from the intruders, while clearly, we were the ones intruding. I am ashamed to say that we shooed them away every time they tried to get in — and they tried all night.

Poor goats.  The next morning they were nowhere in sight and it is not clear where they came from and where they had disappeared to during the day.

I am not sure if this qualifies as boondocking or goatbooting, but there you have it.  Our first experience boondocking. In Greece.  With goats.

The next day we continued walking on the beach until we found a restaurant on the beach.  It was off-season, no one else was around, and the owner was very friendly.  We helped him trim and cut heaps of green beans.  He fed us the traditional meal of green beans and goat(!) stew.  He also let us sleep on the patio of the restaurant.

There were no goats that night.

We came a long way since then and it is just as fun now as it was then, only now we have a safer ‘stone hut’ that is goat proof.  What was your first boondocking experience like?

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