Surveying our surroundings for the night, we felt mightily pleased with ourselves. This is the kind of view you’d pay an arm and a leg for at a posh hotel. Instead, we were comfortably ensconced in our Basecamp, perched on a hilltop with breathtaking 360 degree views of the iconic rocks of Sedona.

When you bag such a perfect boondocking spot, you don’t expect to have it entirely to yourself. Indeed there were a couple of other RVs and one brave soul in a tent also camped out. But that’s ok – with friendly neighbours and plenty of space, we’re ok with sharing.

With trail runs/biking and hiking already under our belts for the day, we sat back and relaxed with our kindles (and maybe a beer or two), enjoying the peace and relative solitude.

And then this happened…

The pink jeep disgorged its hoard of vocal tourists, phones in hand, eager to swarm all over our personal paradise in their efforts to get the perfect picture. After much shrieking, whooping and hollering, they jumped back into the jeep and they were off. Breathing a sigh of relief, there was some eye rolling between us and the RV neighbours. With a resigned shrug, we were politely informed “That was nothin’. Just you wait until sunset”.

And so it was… for the next two hours, a steady stream of intrusion. The occasional sound of silence in between visitors was broken by the thrum of a distant engine and the telltale advancing cloud of dust. One of the cool things about the Basecamp is that we can see out, but people outside can’t see in. I took up residence by the window, like a meerkat on official watch duty and it became quite the entertainment for the afternoon.

As sunset approached, the party really got started. Prize for the loudest went to the tour group of quad bikes trying to out-rev each other as they jockeyed for position.

We ventured out to enjoy the last of the sun, bagging ourselves a prime spot perched on the back of the truck. By this time we were surrounded by maybe a dozen jeeps. The temperature plummeted and we responded with fleeces and woolly hats. Others responded by wrapping themselves in rugs. We glanced at each other, eyebrows raised – this merited a closer look. There was some murmuring and holding hands going on. Followed by what looked like sleep walking (think mummy impression, arms held aloft, eyes closed). Turns out they were here for the Sedona vortex (some hippy energy field thing). Pure class. And an unforeseen extra dimension to our evening’s entertainment.

And then… Boom. The sun was down and as quick as the circus had started, it was over. Like mice, they scurried back to their jeeps, leaving nothing behind but a fading trail of red lights heading into the darkness. And we were back to the cosy confines of the Basecamp. A home cooked pot of chilli. A bottle of red. And the wilderness.