Dreaming about a van

“Home is where you park it”

— foster huntington

I HAVE THIS DREAM TO LIVE IN A VAN.

Live-live. Not just jump into a van for a weekend trip.

It may seem a bit unconventional (perhaps less so since the pandemic has left us questioning everything).

But Living in a van is like freedom in a box.

I believe that because I’ve seen it.

WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER, my parents planned a trip of a lifetime.

They took us out of school for three months, put my brothers and I in the back of a Toyota 4WD, and hitched a caravan to the towbar.

We headed west; across the Nullarbor to Perth, up the West Coast of Australia, through Broome to Darwin, and back down through the heart of Australia; where the dust is red and the goannas hint at chasing you if you take a step closer. The outback.

We had so much fun, climbing through gorges and testing dad’s fear threshold by tip-toeing to the edge of any cliff until he finally demanded we come back. We slept in cramped quarters, rode bikes everywhere, and spent too much time trying to find a drop toilet with the fewest bugs at the bottom.

Those are some of my best memories, and they are all underlined by this incredible sense of freedom.

It contrasts starkly to the realities of being an adult.

BECAUSE ADULTING CAN HIT HARD.

The daily grind; being time poor, energy poor, and anxious about everything, all the time.

As an adult, I STUMBLED ONTO VAN LIFE.

And thought I caught a glimpse of that freedom we experienced as kids; getting connected to nature, people, Australian history.

A VAN FORCES YOU TO SERVE YOUR BASIC NEEDS:

Where to fill up on (safe, clean) drinking water, how to have a shower, and what on earth to cook for dinner when you are stuck in the middle of nowhere and have run out of gas.

COULD THAT BE HEALING for an anxious mind?

I WAS HOOKED.

ONE OF MY FIRST EXPOSURES TO VAN LIFE was watching a video on youtube.

A girl named Hannah was being interviewed in her van. A student saving money on rent, her van was cosy, with personal touches inside like an old dresser from her mum and a woodfired heater. It was far from the grungy, white van vibes often associated with campervans of the past. She had to spend more time outdoors (can’t really spend all day inside a van), more time at the gym (showers!), and enjoyed having everything she needed (mainly the dog) within reach. I connected to it all. It probably looked like rough sleeping to some, but I thought it was opulence.

Around that time, My grandpa shared a letter with PB and I.

He had written (typed) the letter to my cousin outlining property options to consider.

I get this huge sense of happiness imagining my grandpa sitting down at a computer, as a 90-something-year-old thinking about ways to help his grandchildren by any means he can, and typing it all out in a long letter (which probably took him quite some time, given his age bracket!).

One line that he wrote in particular felt like it opened up the world: mobile home. It planted a seed — this was really the start of the road to van life.

Here’s the letter:

It wasn’t long before PB and I opened a joint bank account (our first together) and started saving. We would chat for hours about the van.

We compiled a OneNote notebook all about vans — all the information we felt might be useful, someday down the track. And we quickly named our van dreaming sessions the ‘Van Of Attack’ (where the name Attie eventually came from!).

Researching about vans made a few things clear…

Living in a van is not a new concept

It dates back decades, to the 50s and beyond! The originals are our inspiration, in their VW pop tops on wide, open roads.

Van Life might not be something that lasts forever.

But it could be cool whilst it does last.

And there are definitely drawbacks to being a nomad.

But everything has drawbacks.

Still, we Couldn’t help obsessing.

About spending more time outdoors, and spending less money on things we don’t need, adventuring whenever and wherever, and living in the moment more often.

We want to love where we live.

To have something that belongs to us. Future-proof it, invest in it to maximise comfort, practicality, and style.

To live-live in the van full-time, even just for a period (still trying to convince PB on that one!). And add a dog to the mix too (one day hopefully, fingers crossed!).

We are super, super lucky to be able to even consider this as an option for us, recognising that not everyone has the time and resources to choose this. We are eternally grateful, and plan to make the most of every moment.

People let you know what they think about life in a van.

People have said to us, “You’re taking this too seriously”, but also “You can’t be serious, you’re not going to live in a van?”

It might be crazy and have some people running away at the first mention of a public restroom.

But I love it when people get excited about life in a van.

Foster Huntington, credited with the online social movement #vanlife, encourages us to “re-evaluate and think about what an ideal dwelling looks like.”

And listening to Kaleo sing about “take me where the wheels take me,” travelling out on the road sounds like happiness on wheels.

And if it makes you happy, does it have to make sense?

There’s something to be said for standing in front of a fence, staring at the waves rolling onto a sandy beach, brushing your teeth, that can just take your breath away.

We will just have to keep dodging the “But when are you going to settle down?” question. Never Grandma, never.