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Thursday, 26 December 2019

"Are you warm enough in your van?!"

Following on from the most commonly asked questions that I receive when people find out that I live in my van - in at number 2 is this one. Allow me to put it this way; Yes.

Ok so I admit, transitioning to full time van living and moving in at the start of winter wasn't ideal so I understand everyone's concern when they ask - but staying warm is far from an issue. Now I've mentioned previously that when building this van, that off-grid functionality was the absolute highest priority, and before I'd even started the conversion, I knew I was having a log burner. A big one.

This is probably the most controversial aspect of my build and draws a lot of criticism. "That's way too big for a van!!". But there's a reason for that. See, I've stayed in a lot of glamping pods and quirky little weekend retreats over the years, and a few of them have had these cute little micro-stoves. Which are great, apart from the fact that you can't get more than a fist full of firewood in them at a time, and I felt like I was constantly feeding wood in to keep them going, and I just found them infuriating. So I went with a full size 5kw house stove, with the logic of you can always have a little fire in a big stove, but you cant have a big fire in a little stove.

The log burner is also a  critical life-line of my van and simplistic bare bones off grid living - in terms of my basic hierarchy of needs, it ticks off a lot of the most important ones. It's a lot more than just my source of heat; I can have no gas (LPG) in the tank or juice in the batteries, but still cook and boil water, make a brew, and dry my damp boots/jacket/towels etc. It pulls through a metric tonne of air, drawing in all the moisture and humidity, and kicks out dry heat - and as any van-dweller will tell you, managing condensation at this time of year is a constant fight. I can also scavenge firewood in a pinch, and so far has cost me very little over winter - splitting logs has become something of a therapeutic ritual for me. There's also something unparalleled in terms of atmospheric ambience of sitting by a log burning stove with just a couple of candles. You just don't get that with a diesel heater.


There are downsides of course - it's big, heavy, takes up a lot of valuable space, takes a while to heat up, and on a frosty morning I do miss the convenience of push-button heating - all in all is a true labour of love - but staying warm isn't one of them. Coupled with good insulation, rest assured, I'm more than warm enough in here, I won't go cold.





Monday, 23 December 2019

The Art of Boondocking

I get asked a lot of questions when people find out that I live full time in my van - the unconventional lifestyle draws lot of inquisition, and I get that. I'm mostly happy to answer anything that people want to ask, although printing out Q&A flashcards could really save me some time and repetition... though that's probably a bit rude...

The one question I get asked a LOT (although less so than "Do you live in there? Really? Like, every day?" is "where do you park?". The short answer, is "anywhere". I built my van very specifically to live full time off-grid, by which I mean entirely self contained and not dependant on specific location or hookup, so that I could park, within reason, virtually anywhere. A lot of camper-vanners and van dwellers talk about this, and refer to it as "wild camping", "free camping", and "stealth camping". Basically, not a campsite. The Americans call it 'Boondocking', and I love the ridiculousness of that word, so that's the term I use when I talk about parking up somewhere/anywhere.

Now, apart from actually driving maybe, parking up, whether it be just for the night, or a few days at a time, will be one of the first rituals of VanLife that you'll encounter and master. And there's an art to it - which I don't always get right, so I'll share with you my own rules of Boondocking. It's also a pet hate of mine in terms of the image of VanLife portrayed on social media - its not all picturesque wide angle backdrops of snow-capped mountains and forests. It's a lot more gritty than that in reality. So in no particular order:



#12. Litter check. If there's one thing universal about humans, it's that they just have to ruin everything. When pulling into a potential park up spot for the night, the amount and type of litter kicking around in the bushes will give you an indication of what kind of night you're in for. Baby wipes and discarded bog roll are often tell-tale signs of other over-night campers, because they're filthy beasts and usually take the opportunity to empty their toilets and hygeine products in remote locations, so if it's empty when you get there, expect company to arrive. Greasy brown bags, burger boxes and polystyrene trays are the calling cards of the local youth, so if there's a lot of fast food trash kicking around, you might be in for a noisy night of revving engines and shit music. Enjoy.

#4. Woodland carparks.

These are probably the VanLifers first choice - rural, tranquil, make for good Instagram photos. You're unlikely to attract too much constabulary attention in these type of park-ups, though if you're anywhere within a short drive of a town, you may well find you're not the only one avoiding the watchful eye of the law... if you get what I mean. And if you don't, ask your mum. Best to keep your curtains closed.

#7. Read. There's a fine line between vagrancy and VanLife - that line is about 5 meters long and 2 wide. Your van. In the eyes of the law, the line is even thinner - vagrancy, loitering, public order offences, even the fine print of your insurance policy are all crimes (however trespass is not, interestingly, but that's a conversation for another day). You can draw unnecessary attention to yourself simply by failing to read the road signs, especially parking restrictions and access rights. Pay attention, unless you want to invite Her Majesties finest in for a cuppa at 2am. While you might not be braking the law, in your eyes, in someone elses you could be. Best not to push your luck, and if you do get asked to move, move. The police have better things to do, and you've got better things to spend your money on, than fines.

#18. Trucker lay-bys. You know the type. Long laybys off the side of an A-road, usually separated from the carriageway with a kerb or footpath.

Usually have lorries parked in them. If you're a heavy sleeper, these aren't bad spots for a short stay. Probably more secure than a rural car park, in that there's usually HGVs parked up with goods far more valuable than your van in the back. Apart from the passing traffic they're usually quiet too - a lot of the drivers will be early to bed and off first thing again, and unlikely to tolerate any antisocial noise. Best to keep it that way. 

#2. Houses. No. Don't do it. Don't park down residential streets outside someone's house, unless you want someone knocking on your van wondering what you're up to. Again, you might not be braking the law, but that's subjective. No sense in arousing suspicions or upsetting the locals - it's a brush already dripping with tar.

#22. Dog Walkers. If you're anywhere remotely green, I will guarantee you that descending dog walkers will be your wake-up call. That empty nature reserve car park will be rumbling in the morning, the sounds of tyres rolling over gravel as the hoards of hounds arrive first glimpse of dawn.

#9. Apps. Sorry, maps, if you're traditional.
But apps such as Google Maps, Street View, Google Earth, Park4Night etc, are great for scouting potential park-ups. Saves you from driving round in the dark looking for a spot blindly. It pays to do your homework.


#1. Stay Safe. I will absolutely guarantee you, that some time or another, you will have to move. Either because you've parked blindly somewhere dicey, you've been asked to, told to, or just don't feel comfortable there. Don't risk it, just move. I pack away non-essentials before I go to bed, so that if I have to move in a hurry through the night, I'm not frantically chucking things in drawers and cupboards. I learnt this the hard way. Know when to go.

Add your own golden rules and learned-lessons to the comments!

Si thi
Van Dan

Sunday, 22 December 2019

And So, It Begins

So I've been living in my van - a self-converted home on wheels - pretty much full time for a few weeks now. In the year or so that I spent building the van and making it functionally habitable for life on the road, I did what many self-builder and aspiring van-travellers do; watched a tonne of envy-envoking YouTube videos and Blogs.


Now, while these can be very informative and inspirational, I do feel - with the benefit of a little recent experience under my belt - that many of the blogs and channels can be horrendously overly-romanticised, in true social-media fashion, glorifying the lifestyle and focusing only on the picturesque backdrops and filtered photos of beachfront views from open doors, empty winding roads as far as the eye can see, and an accompaniment of "uplifting" hashtags and quotes.

Something I feel is lacking however, certainly understated at least, are blogs and channels which give a realistic, gritty, unpolished, raw outlook at this lifestyle - the trials and tribulations, the compromises, hardships, rainy days and blood, sweat and tears. The sense of freedom certainly isn't without it's fair share of work.

So I thought I'd start my own. There are others out there of course - I follow many of them - but I wanted my own input on that, to share my own experiences. For a couple of reasons; firstly for myself as a form of diary - as mentioned I am very new to this, being less than 2 months in. I'm not a seasoned van-dweller, and I'm learning and adapting to this lifestyle every day, and I'm sure I'll look back on these days in the months to come with a little smirk at how green I was - and I'd like to immortalise my inexperience for future prosperity and self deprecation. Secondly, as a means of keeping my family, friends, people I meet, and interested parties updated on how I unconventionally live and deal with lifes day-to-day tasks. And lastly, for anyone else researching for their own impending journey - if others can learn only one thing from my mistakes, and it can save them from making them themselves, they can thank me later!

So before I jump into the behind-the-scenes view of This #VanLife Thing, I should probably intro myself. I'm Dan, a sub-40 year old beardy Yorkshireman with all the characteristics of a mountain goat, and my ljittle ginger compadré is Sanchez, a 3 year old rescue Podenco from Spain.

I'll be back in a few days to kick-start this with a tour of my van, but for now you can grab a sneak peak over at my Instgram at instagram.com/thisvanlifething

Si thi!
Dan