In September 1983, I set off travelling.

I had heard from a fellow traveller that it was possible to catch a ferry from Piraeus, the port of Athens, 1200 miles across the Mediterranean Sea, to Haifa in Israel, for the unbelievable price of 250 dollars.

The only catch was that one had to sleep under the stars on the upper deck.

No problem. I had my sleeping bag and the weather was still warm.

So, I bought my ticket for the next sailing.

Yet, I nearly didn’t make the trip, as when I arrived at the quay, about half an hour before boarding, I suddenly realised that I had left my passport in the hostel, back in Athens.

In a state of pure panic, I ran in to the middle of the road and hailed the nearest taxi.

I told the driver the story and that it would be touch and go if I got back in time.

He just laughed and put his foot down to the floor, ignoring red lights and weaving in and out of traffic, he raced, with one hand pressing the horn almost continually.

At one place he did have to stop, and an irate driver asked him what the hell he was doing driving like a madman.

My driver told him he was carrying blood for an urgent operation, and sped off.

Anyway, thanks to this hero taxi driver, we made it back in time for me to board the ferry.

To my surprise, there were many other travellers taking advantage of this cut-price offer and for the 60 hour journey, we had quite a party.

Some guys had guitars, drums and tambourines and so we were well entertained.

However, it was much colder at night than I expected and my sleeping bag wasn’t the best, so I didn’t get much sleep.

One guy had the bright idea of sleeping next to the funnel which would be warmer, but awoke with his face black with soot.

I made up for the lack of night-time sleep by snoozing in the daytime sun and three days after leaving Athens I arrived in Haifa eager for more adventures.