Backpacking through Europe in 1994
Day 82 • November 27, 1994
My night in an abandoned boat in Port Bou, spain
By this point in the trip, I had become pretty good at rolling with the punches. But on November 27, the punches kept coming.
I was trying to make my way south toward Spain to finally meet up with Jeff in Rota. After a long day of trains, I arrived in the small border town of Port Bou expecting to catch a night train that would get me significantly closer to my destination. Instead, I discovered the train didn’t actually exist — it was a misprint in my train schedule. Once again, my plans had fallen apart at the last minute.
It was already dark, I had no Spanish or French money, and my credit cards were completely maxed out. I had nowhere to stay and no obvious way forward. For a moment, it felt like Stockholm all over again — being stranded with very few options.
But this time, something felt different.
I walked around the small station and the area nearby, trying to figure out what to do. That’s when I spotted an old, abandoned boat sitting in a vacant lot. It was stripped down to just the hull and resting on a rusty trailer, clearly untouched for years. Something about it felt safe. After weighing my options, I decided to trust my instincts.
I locked my pack to the trailer, brushed away some cobwebs, and climbed inside. The sides of the boat were high enough to hide me from view, and with my sleeping bag zipped all the way up, I actually stayed warm. I wasn’t scared. I just had a calm feeling that I was going to be okay.
Looking back, this night was another reminder that even when things went wrong, I was learning how to handle it. I was getting better at trusting myself.
My Room for the Night
I spent a night in this abandoned boat along the south-eastern coast of Spain after discovering the train table had a misprint and the train I was planning to take during the night didn’t exist. The sleeping bag is still visible inside the hull where I stayed warm and hidden until morning.
My Photographs from today traveling to Portbou, Spain
DAY 82 / 11-27-94
traveling towards Rota Spain and getting stuck in portbou
It’s actually day 83 now, but I had another interesting night last night. I slept almost the whole way to Nice [France], & everything was going just fine, until I found out the train I was planning to take to Barcelona no longer existed. After some quick thinking I realized I could still make it by going to Avingon, France. Not that big of a deal, but I’m starting to get real sick of these last-minute changes.
Along the way there, these two very nice elderly ladies fed me. They were French, spoke no English, but I was able to get my situation across to them. They gave me two ham sandwiches, an orange & some seltzer water, which was very generous considering the way I looked & possibly smelled. (Which, then again, may be the reason they fed me).
Well, things were about to go from bad to worse. The train I was going to take to Barcelona [I think I meant Avignon] didn’t exist anymore either. I had to take a train to a place called Port Bou, which wasn’t even on any of my maps.
MOTHERFUCKER, I thought to myself, here I go again, another Stockholm. SHIT! I knew things were going too good for me.
I arrived in Port Bou at 8:00 [pm]. It was this TINY border station, on the Spanish side of the border. The guy at the info desk spoke no English, but French, so I was able to ask for the next train to Barcelona. It left at 9:30 [pm] but put me in too late to make the overnight train to Sevilla [Spain]. So then on a hunch asked for the next train to Madrid, hoping for a night one. No such luck. Next one was at 8 in the morning.
Things weren’t looking too good for our hero, me being the hero, of course.
I took a deep breath & examined the possibilities at hand. #1. Go on to Barcelona, find a place at 11:00 at night to crash, & take the day train to Sevilla. Or #2. Stay the night somewhere here in Port Bou, take the 8:00 [am] to Madrid, which got in at 3 [pm]; and then catch the next train to Sevilla, which run every hour & are fast, and end up in Sevilla roughly the same time as plan #1.
Since I had an hour & a half to make up my mind, I decided to walk around outside and survey the place. If nothing looked promising, I’d go on to Barcelona.
First I called Jeff, or tried. I couldn’t get through to the barracks, so I tried his work. He wasn’t in, but I left a message, & hope he got it.
I hoped to find a place here, it felt like a safe place, pretty empty & it was warm outside. Kind of like I’d rather stay near a bus stop in Minden [Nebraska, next town to Kearney, population 3,000] than near the bus stop in Kansas City [Missouri, population 500,000].
I figured I was due for a little luck, & I got it. Across from the station was a vacant lot with some abandoned boats in it. It was well lit & very deserted. I walked over to inspect the boats, & one was perfect. It was completely stripped; it was just a hull. It was still attached to a rusting boat trailer. It looked like no one had touched it for years.
I was able to lock up my pack to the trailer – the weeds were tall enough that you couldn’t even see it – and there was plenty of room for me to unroll my sleeping bag inside the boat. (First I had to brush away some cobwebs).
The sides of the boat were high enough to protect me from both the wind and more importantly from anyone’s view.
I’ve learned to trust my gut instinct, and it hasn’t let me down yet. And my gut was practically yelling to my brain that this was as good as it was going to get, better than I could ever expect, actually, to stay here & have the whole day tomorrow to get across the country.
So I snuggled into my bag – and I do mean snuggled. Despite it’s bulk & weight, this night, if no other (but there have been plenty) I was so glad I had chosen this bag. I was able to zip it all the way up, over my head with just room enough for my mouth to breathe, completely hidden in the hull of this boat, and I was warm & toasty.
I dozed off & on throughout the night, which was probably better than going into a deep slumber & oversleeping again. At 5:15 [am] I could hear activity in the station, so I decided to get up & go…[continues on day 83]
Port Bou from Above
From this vantage you can see how close the train station was to the water. That is how I wandered down and found the boat. The whole town is nestled between the hills and the Mediterranean, with the station right at the edge.
Port Bou
It is a gorgeous little town. The white and terracotta buildings nestled between the steep hills and the Mediterranean, the train station right at the edge of the water. I wish I had seen it in daylight.
Port Bou Harbor
A stunning view of the harbor and the town nestled against the hills along the Mediterranean. The Mediterranean coast of Spain looked like this in the daylight — beautiful, rugged, and peaceful. I regret not exploring it more.
Looking Back from 2026
This was another night where the trip tested my ability to adapt when things went wrong.
I arrived in the small border town of Port Bou expecting to catch a night train that would get me significantly closer to Spain. Instead, I discovered the train didn’t actually exist — it was a misprint in my schedule. Once again, my plans had collapsed at the last minute. I had no money, nowhere to stay, and very few options.
After walking around the station, I spotted an old, abandoned boat sitting in a vacant lot. Something about it felt safe. I locked my pack to the trailer, brushed away the cobwebs, and climbed inside. I wasn’t scared that night. I just had a quiet feeling that I was going to be okay.
Looking back now, I find it almost funny how little I actually knew about where I was. Decades later, after finally researching Port Bou and seeing photos of it in daylight, I was shocked. The town is beautiful — quaint, picturesque, and peaceful, right on the Mediterranean coast with a charming train station and scenic surroundings. I had no idea. At the time, it was dark, I was frustrated and angry, and I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.
I should have stayed the next day and explored. Instead, I left early the following morning without ever really seeing the place I had spent the night.
Even now, I still think about going back to Port Bou someday. Only this time, I’d like to see it during the day.