Buckle up for some of the harder truths about van life — from someone who ’s ascertain them for himself .
Are you sat at your desk reading this and wondering what poor life choices you made? Every time you open Instagram, are you bombarded with enviable posts from people youthinkare living a far better life than yours?
Well, my friends, I come to you today as a truth-teller. See I, like you, once had wide eyes and big dreams too. I used to see post after post from strangers who were living a life that turned me green with envy: Van life.
While I slogged away day after day to be able to continue renting an apartment that needs someseriousattention from the renovation gods (or just my landlord), other people were out there exploring the world!
They had vans, they haddogs, they had adventures — they were LIVING!
“Enough,” I said to myself! If they could do it, why couldn’t I? After all, don’t they say that you’re supposed to seize the day, to forge your own path, to build your own reality?
So, I did! I bought myself a van and for the last three years, in between living my day-to-day life in Sydney, I’ve been squeezing in as many van life adventures as possible.
And it turns out that — just like most things in life — there’s a certain expectation about what youthinkvan life is going to be like, and then there’s the reality. So buckle up, road trip enthusiasts — here are some of the harder truths about van life, from someone who’s learned them for himself.
1.Van life can cost a pretty penny, before you even hit the road.
When I bought my van — a 2003 Toyota Hiace — it was a totally empty shell other than a patch of fake grass in the back (which yes, did come included).
It very quickly became obvious to me that a van like this was NEVER going to happen. Forget about it — no way.
With the van purchased, I had two options. The first was to try and convert my van myself (like a good friend of mine ended up doing to his).
So I went with option two: I dropped off my van (and the sorry excuse for a conversion design I’d doodled on a piece of paper) to someone with the appropriate skills and qualifications to take on such a feat. Two weeks later, I picked up my (professionally) newly-converted van.
2.The cost of being on the road really adds up too — looking at you, petrol.
3.Parking can be a nightmare.
4.Finding somewhere to camp can actually be pretty hard.
Which means that you might need to lower your expectations if you think that you’ll be waking up with a stunning view over one of Australia’s incredible beaches every single day.
Chances are, you’ll actually spend a lot of time on the phone calling around for ~anywhere~ that might have space for you to stay, and those places willprobablylook a bit different from what you’d been expecting.
There isa lotof staying in fields in the middle of nowhere, because there’s usually someone with space in a field.
Or campsites that arenearthe beach, but just not nearenoughto actually see it.
Which doesn’t mean to say that you won’t find spots with amazing views to park up at during the day, just that you probably can’t spend the night there if you don’t want to risk copping a fine.
5.If you think that you’re going to be out basking in the sun every day, think again.
So a note for non-Aussies: Australia is notalwayssunny. Itdoesrain. And when it rains, it RAINS, which can make #vanlife feel a lot more like #swamplife.
6.You getveryused to cooking dinner in the dark, which I can almost guarantee is usually some sort of pasta (carbs) or rice (carbs).
Andthat’sbecause, more often than not, vans don’t have the biggest of fridges. Your carb-heavy dinners are the result of prioritising fridge space for the absolute essentials — cold beer, of course.
7.When it comes to your appearance, any semblance of the well-put-together person you usually are in your daily life goes completely out of the window on the road.
That’s because it’s not unusual to go days without a proper shower. And when youdofinally find a campsite with amenities, chances are you won’t want to spend more time than you absolutely have to in them.
So you have very little choice other than to just embrace your bedraggled, slightly grimy look.
Which is in no way helped by the fact that most of the time you’re on the road you end up wearing damp clothes that neverquitedry properly.
8.If, like me, you haven’t got a small fortune lying around to drop on a state of the art, penthouse-equivalent, spacious van — then the sleeping arrangements can take a bit of getting used to.
At first it can feel like you’re sleeping in a slightly upmarket coffin for people who are still alive, which youdoget used to.
But something that never quite goes away is the fear of who (or what) else you might end up sharing your van with — and yes, I do know people who have woken up with a huntsman spiderinsidetheir van.
9.At some point, something will inevitably go wrong with your van. Your phone will stop charging, or the lights will stop working — and you’ll end up looking at something like this electrical wiring — that you havezerounderstanding of, but think you might be able to work out. Trust me when I say: don’t, just call a professional.
10.Plus, chances are youwillbreak down at some point.
11.Unless you quit YOUR ENTIRE LIFE, you probably won’t get as far as you think.
12.But despite everything, van life is still worth it.
