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1967 --- Travelling around Europe on a scooter, the hardest thing was sometimes to find a place to camp at night. This was especially difficult in small populated countries like Belgium where everywhere the land was fenced by low stone walls. Commercial camp-sites were often non-existent, difficult to find and unnecessary for me, since I was prepared to sleep anywhere, especially since that was free of any fee. I always used a portable stove, never made a fire, carried water and of course food.

I took the ferry to England my first time --- heading for London to retrieve some camping gear, I had sent to the American Embassy there, from Greece my point of departure. There was no Chunnel in those days, and I debarked at Dover at probably around six pm. Since I had to find a place to camp and cook dinner before nightfall, I drove straight through town to the western outskirts, and succeeded in finding a spot off the road and in a wood, my rule out of sight of passers-by. Although it seemed completely safe in Europe from random pillage, I being a crime cynical American, did not like to tempt fate. Next morning after breakfast and tea, I broke camp. I found the M1 which was the express-way to London, and drove as was my custom, in the slow lane close to the edge of the pavement through the mildly hilly green pasture land. After a while of driving I came across a coffee/diner, that was built over the highway as a rest stop.

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