Stick Another 50p In T' Meter!

If you jump on any of the VanLife or Campervan groups on Facebook, you'll notice they're awash with the same three topics at the moment, as people struggle with three issues in winter. Electricity (lack thereof), heat (lack thereof), and condensation (biblical proportions of). I moved into my van last October, so this is my second winter of VanLife - I almost feel like a bit of a salty old veteran this year! But I'll talk about my experiences of these three issues. Starting with 'leccy.

Now, I'll be brutal. Solar panels, in the UK, in winter, are about as much use as a chocolate pisspot. Partly due to the lack of daylight hours, and the hours we do get tend to be a bit grey in typical British fashion, but also just plain old lack of space on a van roof to accommodate more than a couple of panels, and the tendency for them to be fixed flat down rather than angled towards the sun. So the people that have built their vans, or at least their expectations, around the reliance of solar power to charge up their leisure batteries, are falling short of juice as we hit winter. Now I've got a pretty decent sized solar rig, by van standards anyway - a whole 750watts of black magic and witchcraft... Sat in storage. Yep. Not even fitted to the van, just sat there, gathering dust. They've been there for over a year now, I actually bought them quite early on in my build and just never fitted them. I will get round to hauling them up on the roof one day, but that day won't be in Winter. Another issue is power storage. Lesiure batteries don't like the cold, they take longer to charge, and self-discharge quite a bit in colder temperatures too, so a bit of a double-whammy when you're struggling to pull in power AND THEN LOSING the power you do normally get. There is a very simple answer to this VanLife problem though. Use. Less. Power. Needing less is the same as producing more, so if you can learn to be less reliant on electric you can be less reliant on producing it too.

Ok I don't have solar, so I don't find myself being consumed by how many free amps the great fireball in the sky is gifting me. I do have hookup and a battery charger, which I've used precisely twice, as I tend to be off-grid and not anywhere where I can plug in - so I charge my battery banks purely by driving. I don't typically stay in one place for more than two days at a time, so I'm driving anyway, and charging my cells via a basic split-charge is a pretty efficient way of generating juice - it typically takes around 1 hour to fully top up my 2 x 110amp batteries, and doesn't seem to make any noticeable difference to my MPG either, so while it's not quite as free as sun-leccy, it's a close second, and it gets me by comfortably. As for using less power, well that's a pretty standard comprise of moving from house to van really, and something that all crusty van-hobos have to adapt to quickly - but a bit more so in winter. I don't run my fridge, because I don't need to. It's a fairly decent size (55ltr) and uses 60watts, making it probably my biggest consumer of power, so if I don't have to use it I gladly wont, and winter is easy for not needing it. I keep a couple of ice blocks in the freezer compartment, and I pop these on the van roof overnight and chuck them back in the fridge in the morning, same with bottles of water. This keeps my food plenty cold enough through the day. 

Now I've mentioned before that I grew up poor as chuff as a kid, and fondly remember the days where we had a 50p electric meter, and when it ran out (frequently) we'd often have to wait for my dad to get home from work (or the pub) with some change to feed it. 

My mum would probably be incredibly embarrassed if she had any idea I was telling internet stangers any of this, but I'm not, I don't bregrudge growing up poor at all, I learned a lot about not taking things for granted, appreciating the little things, looking after that what I did have - and how to entertain myself without a TV. Plus it was the 80s, there was bugger all on the four telly channels on a black and white 14" portable we had then anyway. I played outside, I read comics (Beano > Dandy. Fact), I played with toys, I took said toys apart to figure out how they worked and put them back together again. I still do the same now - if my inverter starts frantically beeping at me to tell me I've been a bit frivolous with the precious juice, I'll throw the big killswitch switch and light a couple of candles, and I'll find something to do - ok so it's 2020 now and a lot of those rainy day or night time "somethings" are lithium-ion powered, my phone/tablet, Bluetooth speaker etc, which are hopefully charged enough to last me until I next set off driving - but I can happily get by without power on tap. Rationing electric is a normal part of this vanlife thing, so embrace it.

Ok I've waffled for far longer than I indended. My battery will run out if I'm not careful!

Bye for now! ✌️

"People, what a bunch of bastards"

I wasn't going to blog about this as it feels like I'm making an issue out of something that really wasn't a big deal - but it is part of the reality of vanlife, unfortunately, and something I'm sure everyone who lives like me feels the same about too - plus when I started this blog series I did promise to capture the shit bits as well as the good, and I've had a few random messages from people recently saying how it's refreshing to see a "no fluff and bullshit" account of vanlife, which is cool, so I'll hammer it out.

My three biggest worries about living in a van, are about something happening to the van - being in a crash bad enough to write it off, something mechanical catestrophically shitting its self like the gearbox exploding or something, or the van being stolen/broken into or seriously vandalised. My van isn't just "my van" in the sense of it being my mode of transport - it's my means of travel, it's how I earn money, and it's where I literally live. My whole life sits on these four tyres, and if any of the above three scenarios should ever happen, I'd be, for lack of a better term, fucked. Absolutely, utterly, fucked.

The latter of the three points is something I used to be particularly paranoid about, to the point where I didn't like leaving it out of sight when taking Sanchez out for a walk etc, and would check over my shoulder, or double back doubting myself whether I'd locked the doors or not, and I wouldn't go too far or for too long. This passed over time, mostly, I mean I'm still conscious about where I leave the van and tend to think about who else is around and the type of area I'm in, but for the most part I sort of stopped worrying about it so much and just got on with it. Vehicle crime happens, it happens and worrying about it isn't going to make it any less likely to happen, so beyond parking up sensibly, locking up securely and keeping everything of any sort of value out of sight, that's really all I can do, it's out of my hands, no sense living in a state of paranoia. 

Lockdown has been tense for van dwellers, both in terms of increased scrutiny from the police regarding our reason for travel and whereabouts, and village locals taking it upon themselves to act as vigilante parking wardens, with many vanlifers reporting hostile behaviour - some people have had their vans vandalised and damaged simply for being there, as some sort "go home" message, overlooking the fact that we are home! So it's been a bit of a weird time, and yet again I've found myself looking back over my shoulder when walking off from the van, and peering out of my peephole when cars pull into wherever I am.

I've been lucky, I've never had much "bother" from anyone in the year I've lived in my own van - I'm yet to have a middle of the night knock from the police, I've only had to leave a spot once due to knobheads giving me hastle / throwing bottles at my van (in fact even then I chose to leave, after seeing them off first with an axe, but figured they might come back for another round), and I've only had one totalitarian gobshite directly verbally confront me, and I sent her off with her tail inbetween her legs too. Sure, I get stigmatized and tutted at here and there - some people just don't like "travellers" or people that live in vehicles, and that's fine, that's their prerogative and I let them get on with it, again it's notably increased during lockdown, but I haven't gone out of my way to hide away any more than I have to draw attention to myself. My van is quite stealthy, apart from the wooden window frame on the side and chimney poking out of the top, but parked side-on it passes for a trademans workhorse, so I think I get away with hiding in plain sight a lot - plus I'm pretty good at picking my spots and looking out for the clues as to who I might see at night - I wrote about this in one of my first blogs, The Art of Boondocking, and trust my gut feeling when pulling up to a parkup.

Last week however I'd parked up by a reservoir just outside of Leeds, nice spot but a bit close to some big towns - I know from experience that secluded spots close to big towns get a bit of a night time gathering, especially on weekends - you know how it is, young lads in cars smoking a bit of weed etc. They don't typically bother me, I don't typically bother them - I like to make my presence known on arrival; get out take Sanchez for a little sniff around, make eye contact, and leave them be with the expectation that it's mutual, and I'll just keep a distant eye on them until they've gone, but I don't make a habit of parking up in these kind of spots on weekends. 

On the second morning, I woke up to the influx of joggers, cyclists and dog walkers turning up, everyone parked at a sensible distance. Apart from one car. I heard it pull up, right behind my van, bit of a throaty exhaust and the engine left running. Sanchez is really good at alerting me to the proximity of people around the van, he had his ears up, listening out. After a few minutes, I heard two sets of car doors open and close, engine still running. This got my attention, and I heard two voices, first one "I dunno man there's a lot of people around!", second voice replied "fuck 'em mate, what they gonna do? We'll be quick anyway". I jumped out of bed in a scramble to pull some clothes on, at about the same time I could hear footsteps going down the drivers side of my van - Sanchez picked up on them being way too close and started barking loudly, and the first voice shouted "Shit there's someone in there!" followed by the sound of them running back to their car, doors slamming and the car speeding off - I only caught a quick glimpse of the car, a blue Mazda RX8, at speed.

I still have no idea what they were intending, but they were intending something for sure - I have absolutely no doubt that if I'd have been out of bed earlier and walking Sanchez, I'd have returned to find my van vandalised, broken into, or not there at all. It didn't bother me at the timez I was just glad I'd had a lazy morning, but I've found myself thinking about it a lot since - back to double checking the doors and looking over my shoulder when I leave the van. It'll pass.

Stay safe out there, be careful, but more importantly, be sensible - if something doesn't seem right, it's usually for good reason. Trust your instincts. ✌️

Vanniversary!

It has officially been one year since I officially moved myself, my dog Sanchez, and all my things into my van and started 'This Vanlife Thing' - one whole year of full time van dwelling, living, travelling, and working on the road. Happy Vanniversary to me!! 

I started this blog at the time with every intention of writing frequently, as some sort of personal diary but also as a real life reflection of the reality of what living in a van entails, because it's definitely not all Instagram filtered sunsets and beaches - it's a lifestyle that's certainly not for everyone, and I wanted to capture some of the compromises and hardships that come as part of the package deal of choosing to live like this. Now I'll put my hands up here and say that I haven't blogged anywhere near as often as I had set out to, BUT, I have fully embraced this lifestyle and learned a few things on the way, one whole year down the road. So here are the top ten things I've learned about life in a van;

10. There are more of us than I realised

You know how when you buy a new car, you suddenly see that same car everywhere? Same with van dwellers. Since moving into my own van and travelling around, scouting out park up spots etc, I have realised there are far, far more people living in vans than I had ever previously noticed, or given much thought to. I have no idea what the official figure is, if there even is such a thing, but as an estimate I'd say it's somewhere between a fuckload and a shittonne (metric).

9. There are two types of people that live in vans

I'll make a huge sweeping generalisation here, and break these down into two groups; those that want to, and those that have to. What I mean by that is that the first group have made an uninfluenced lifestyle choice and have chosen to move into their vans, usually have a bit of savings behind them, and have set off travelling. The second group have typically found themselves in a situation where it's the van or the streets, usually as a result of political and economic factors such as the state of the housing crisis and the employment market. Then there are those that are somewhere in between.

8. Knowledge is power

It pays to have a basic knowledge of the law, particularly regarding sleeping in a vehicle on a public highway, and overnight parking in private carparks. Sleeping in a vehicle on a public highway (which includes lay-bys and council owned, public car parks) is not nor has ever been an offence, where you are not causing obstruction. Trespass is a civil matter, not a criminal one, and "no overnight parking" signs on private car parks (such as nature reserves, forestry commission, etc) are simply a request to comply, not an enforceable demand, where no penalty is clearly detailed. Read the signs properly, know your rights, and you're covered for any late night knocks on the door.

7. We've got it easy in the UK

As above, the law in the UK makes living in a van remarkably easy, in the sense that that are currently no laws prohibiting us from living in a vehicle, and actually a few that protect us. Its easy to get off the main road and find quiet park up spots, drinking water is considered a human right and easy to find for free when you know where to go, and we're pretty well set up for freely available public conveniences such as bins, toilets and showers.

6. I don't need much

People always ask me if I need anything, which is lovely but the answer is invariably always, no I'm good thanks. "Need" is a subjective term, but im terms of necessities versus luxuries, rather than Maslows Hierarchy of Needs, I've got everything that I actually NEED in my little van - and a lot of stuff that I don't. As long as Ive got food in my cupboards, juice in my batteries, gas in my tank, diesel and firewood, I'm all set. Oh and coffee. Fuck you Maslow I need coffee. But I do genuinely have everything I need in here, and then some. And some more. I don't know how I previously convinced myself that I needed enough "stuff" to fill a house with, but I certainly have way more than I actually need just in my van!

5. I did good

My van build turned out alright, in terms of planning to live off grid full time. I'm constantly tinkering with it purely on a cosmetic stance, but from the perspective of planning ahead for what I'd need from a functionality level in order to no only survive but actually enjoy living like this, I nailed it. There isn't anything I've struggled to cope without (ok maybe an oven, but hello Omnia pan!) or had to change / add since moving in here. I'd convinced myself that there would be something I'd overlooked, but one year in, if Ive made it this far then I obviously didn't need it. It also turned out alright from a cosmetic stance too I guess - sure it's a little rough around the edges in places, but the number of positive comments I get about how it looks in here has made me accept that, despite not having a creative or artistic bone in my body, I did good. 

4. I'm tough as old boots

I've survived! I haven't quit, I haven't even felt like quitting at any point. It hasn't always been easy - it's NOT easy, ever, living this way, going from living very comfortably in bricks and mortar with every convenience available at the push of a button or the turn of a tap, to living in a very basic, minimalist fashion where nothing comes without a little effort - but that just makes you appreciate the fruits of your labour, so to speak. When you carry your own water, you don't waste it. When you cut your own firewood, you put a jumper on. In fact for the first four months I didn't have gas or running water, and cooked / boiled water all on my log burner. I've been skint, down to literally pennies in my bank account. I actually like being skint - I grew up poor as chuff as a kid, like genuine poverty at times, so living frugally is not something I resent, in fact I'm quite fond of it. When you're broke you learn how to make do, to fix, mend, and find a way round - they say necessity is the mother of invention, well then poverty is the mother of innovation - I've learned what I know how to do because I've not always had the money to pay someone else to do it for me. No aspect of living in a van is ever going to be as easy as it is living in a house, but the rewards far, far outweigh the graft, and I've never found it "too hard", even when I got stuck for nearly 3 weeks unable to move and with no electricity, I made do with candles.

3. I have a strong support network

From family, to friends, to complete strangers - if I have ever needed help with anything, I've had it. I don't like asking for help, it's probably some weird pride thing where I struggle to accept that I can't do something on my own or with what I have. But at the same time, I'm not so stubborn to refuse help where it's offered. I've needed a hand a few times over the last year, help fixing something mechanical on my van, or finishing off some of the things I'd not got done before I moved in, space to park up, tools, a helping hand with unexpected blips on the road, work etc - I've never been short of someone offering what they have to give. It does not go unrecognised or unappreciated.

2. "I wish I'd done it"

I meet so many people who, when they see my van or find out that I live the way I do, say that they wish they'd done it, or wish thet could do it. From successful business owners, to million pound property owners. This awlays surprises me, because the commonly accepted definition of someone being what we'd call or certainly what society has conditioned us to believing to be, "successful", generally isn't someone who aspires to live in a tatty old van.

1. This is the best thing I've ever done.

I'm going to be blunt and say that I've not just adapted to this lifestyle, or that I've enjoyed it, but I've absolutely fucking loved the last 12 months and embraced everything that comes with it. Yes it's been hard, it's been a learning curve, it's not an easy lifestyle. It's definitely not all Instagram filters and scenery (and yes, I'm guilty of that too with my own Instagram), it's gritty and tough at times. But I've thrown myself into it feet first and run with it, mud blood sweat and tears, and would not change a single thing over the last year. I am happy. My only regret is that I'd not done it sooner, and my only worry is my van catestrophically shitting it's self. There's no end goal in sight for me - I live entirely day to day (often not knowing what day it is), and can be anywhere in the country on any given day of the week. I don't know where "vanlife" will take me, where I'll be next year or what I'll be doing - but I do know it'll be in a van. You can hold me to that.

Happy Vanniversary - here's to many more to come!! ✌️

Working on the Road

Continuing with the theme of most commonly asked questions, and certainly one I see asked on Vanlife groups a lot, is "what do you do for work", and honestly, this was a question I asked myself on Day 1 of my own vanlife adventure - 'what am I going to do for money?', as I had a little bit of savings but not enough to live on for more than a few months. In the spirit of keeping the blog sincere and a bit of a snapshot of the reality of living full time in a van, once the rose-tinted glasses and Instagram filters come off, I thought I'd share a little bit about what I do and why - because the reality is, that unless you're very financially comfortable OR only intend to do this for a short time, you'll have to work to pay your way. Because such is life, I'm afraid. 

Now, my own professional background is entirely office based administrative type roles - accounts, finance, auditing, and then into analytics - I won't bore you with specific roles and job titles, but you get the idea. This was never a line of work that I got into through choice, I just sort of fell into it early on because I'm good at maths and speak in numbers, but it was never what I ever really wanted to do - I was just good at it, the money was pretty good, and it paid the bills and afforded a comfortable lifestyle. But it is also one of the many reasons (a major reason) that I quit that life and transitioned into being a nomadic vagabond - I was never happy in that line of work, or working in the typical environment which those roles are based in - I'm far too much of a scruffy, semi-feral, weathered outdoorsman to ever look like I belong chained to a desk or sat in another soul-destroying meeting room, but as I'm sure many of you can attest to, it's very easy to become trapped in a career you never wanted to pay for the lifestyle you've made for yourself, but I wanted out. We didn't evolve as a species to work 40+ hours a week, 48 weeks a year, for 50 years, just hoping to last long enough to retire (if, IF you make it that long), and die - we were never meant to live like this, that's not life, and I wanted a very different lifestyle for myself, so I quit it all.

So there I am, Day 1, wondering what the hell I'm going to do next. Now while I was building my van outside my house, it drew a lot of attention from passers-by whom would often stop and chat, and quite often some of these people - upon seeing that I wasn't bad at chucking bits of wood together - would ask me to do handyman type jobs at their houses for a bit of pocket money. My first few weeks of my newly chosen lifestyle were funded by doing this - picking up odd jobs here and there, and working for a local landlord as his maintenance man for the half a dozen houses or so which he rents out. Soon after through a chance meeting, I became the "Property Maintenance Engineer" for a letting agency chain in my local area and suddenly had 650 houses to look after, mostly quick-fixes and patch-up jobs, which quickly became a full time job - so I did this for a short while, but I didn't choose this lifestyle and slash my living costs to a fraction, just to work full time for another corporate entity lining someone elses pockets at the top end, so this didn't last long for me and coincided with another chance meeting and job offer - so I quit this too.

I'd seen a post on one of the off-grid Facebook groups I'm on - a chap quite local was looking for a helping hand with a house renovation, in exchange for parkup space and pay - so already having a little bit of experience "on the tools" under my belt and generally being quite handy and happy to get mucky, I replied to the post and went along to meet the fella and started working for him immediately - "two weeks work" he said. This was an awesome opportunity to learn a few things, use tools I'd never used before, and try my hand at new jobs, and Mat and I bonded very quickly. This 'two weeks' became 5 months in the end, and we are actually very close friends now - MyMateMat will undoubtedly feature in my posts in the future, in fact I'm currently parked up on his land as I write this! By April the house was completed and on the market, Mat and his family had moved into an apartment nearby and were preparing for their own transition into VanLife (albeit in something much grander than my tatty old panel van) and I was still helping him out with bits and pieces but on a favour exchange basis rather than work - Mat helped me out with a few things too including fitting the gas system in my van. Then Lockdown hit. Hard. So Mat took some part time work on to help out with his finances, and I headed off to keep my head down for a bit.

While the country was in Lockdown, I'd seen yet another post on Facebook, from a lady who owned a little home-grown company which specialised in equestrian ground work - removing ragwart from horse grazing land. She was looking for workers willing to travel and dig up weeds. So I dropped her a message and we had a good chat, I liked the sound of the work arrangement, and it was a good opportunity to get paid for travelling all over the UK - so I spent my summer driving around, parking up in some really beautiful areas of the country, and making friends with horses. I'd typically work a couple of days a week and take the rest of the week off to go wandering or visiting friends in the area. It was physically hard work, sometimes in unpleasant weather, and occasionally for even less pleasant clients - but mostly it was enjoyable, stress free work in scenic locations, for fair pay - and very much suited my lifestyle! I really enjoyed this gig, and will definitely return next summer - this could be a cool little seasonal job for me which I can return to year-on-year. But I've wrapped up for this year, the weather is very much on the turn now and I had to return to Yorkshire for my MOT and do some work on the van.

While back here in my hometown, one of the landlords that I do bits and pieces for got in touch to ask if I was available for some work needed on one of his rentals, and also to tell me he'd bought a seaside property which needed a bit of work and asked if I'd be up for the job, so Ive now got a bit of winter work lined up, similar to last year! I'm also giving MyMateMat a helping hand as a final push before he sets off in his motorhome.

This brings me up to today, so I'm going to wrap this post up. As I currently write this, I now have more money saved up than I did when I started this almost a year ago, I've worked a few different jobs, tried my hand at a few different things, lined up more work for the immediate future and the longer term into next year, I've travelled around a lot, and made a few new friends. If I could go back to Day 1 and give myself (and anyone else reading) some advice and golden rules on working on the road they'd simply be:

• Don't worry about it; life has a funny way of throwing up opportunies when they're most needed.

• Keep your ear to the ground; keep connected, make contacts, use what's freely available to you, look out for these opportunities when they come up, and word of mouth goes a long way.

• If you're good at something, never do it for free; capitalise on your skillsets, charge for what you're good at - often your greatest skillset will be your enthusiasm to work, try new things, and learn - but remember that there's more to life than money. Negotiate on perks versus cash - parkup space, electricity, water, use of facilities, meals etc can all be forms of pay, as can favours and a helping hand in return, and these can be invaluable when needed the most. But never work thanklessly.

Who knows where I'll write from next or what I'll be doing for work! Bye for now 🙂

"Where do you shower and shit?!"

People are literally obsessed with this question apparently. Next to "why did you move into a van" - which I will get round to answering fully, one day - the question of where I do my personal business is easily the next most frequently asked question, with a heavy hint of morbid intrique and stifled disgust. Bizarrely. So I'll keep it short and sweet. 

Here:

Yep, The Poop Deck. I have a composting loo, which aside from being very eco-friendly, is incredibly simple and efficient. It doubles up as a food scraps bin, and means I can responsibly empty it virtually anywhere really - I'm not restricted to campsites or emptying down a conventional loo. It's very cheap and hygienic to use and maintain using nothing more than coco-fibre and sawdust, and for those of you unfamiliar with composting toilets, no, it doesn't smell - or certainly not in the unpleasant sense anyway. There's a really good book on the subject called The Humanure Handbook, which is well worth a flick through.

As for showering, that's on the deck too - I have hot water straight from my LPG water heater, from the tanks via an on-demand pump.

Of course, I don't turn down the opportunity to use regular showers and toilets where available, especially when staying with friends and family etc, but as far as off-grid solutions to lifes basic necessities go, this setup works wonderfully for me.

Next question?

Lockdown Breadown

As a precursory to this addition to my blog, I will forthrightly admit that I am an idiot, and there are many examples of this idiocy to follow. So without further ado, I will begin.

So my van broke down. In rural Wales. In peak lockdown. The reason it broke down is because, like an idiot, I've been ignoring a noisy bearing in the drive belt tensioner pulley for quite some time. It was on my "to-do" list. Buuuut I'd been putting it off. Because I'm an idiot. I think I've mentioned before that I own a little plot of mixed pasture/woodland in North Wales, now one thing I probably haven't mentioned before is that this plot of land forms part of a conservation zone in the area, protected due to the prevalence of endagered wildlife, and as such I have a legal responsibility to maintain the plot to a certain standard and not allow it to fall into a state of unkemptness. I'd normally come over here in early Spring to make sure the steam is clear of any fallen debri and that that trees are all still standing, however due to Covid I'd been putting this off, however with no sign of lockdown restrictions being lifted any time soon in Wales, I decided to come over and spend a few days here to take care of a bit of essential groundworks and tree coppicing and whatnot. Now, it is peak lockdown here, there are lots of signs and banners on the roads telling tourists to go home, "Wales is closed", etc, as well as a heavy police presence on the lookout for holidaymakers, so I'd packed more than enough food, water and general supplies to ensure that I didn't have to leave the plot, and not come into contact of anyone during my stay here - and besides, I'm a nomad, I live in my van, this plot is as much home as anywhere really so I have a genuine need and right to be here, but without being nonchalant about the fact that lockdown is very much in full force here. Now, I should also point out and I think it's fair to say, is that this particular area of Wales is a very nationalist area, very traditional in some respects and has the highest rate of native Welsh speakers in Wales (88% apparently), so there's a general anti-English sentiment from some of the locals at the best of times, more so currently due to Covid travel restrictions. Not a good time to be travelling here as an Englishman shall we say. But, needs must. So off I sets, noisy bearing and all. Because I'm an idiot.

Just as I'm coming through the tunnels at Conwy, I hear the belt pulley really screaming away, followed shortly after by the squealing of belt, in the throes of death. Then silence and a red battery symbol on the dash. "I can make it, I'm not stopping". I quickly knocked ofd all electrics, the stereo and fans, side lights etc. I reckon my battery will last out the rest of the drive, it's not far. Of course, I've lost power steering too. Three and half tonne with no power steering and lots of little roundabouts is not especially fun I tell thee, especially when you've got a copper in front of you too and you're trying your damnedest not to draw attention to yourself! But, I made it to my plot and got myself parked up, and set about trying to find a new belt and tension online for delivery ASAP.

One or two slight issues with this. I don't have an address here - it's literally a plot of land and an access track, there is no postal address. There is, however, a café just up the road and I sort of know the owner. So I phoned him and asked if I could have some mail sent there. "Sure no problem". Awesome. Obligatory shout out to my friend Dafydd at Caffin Gerlan on the A487. Legend. Back to the internet, managed to find the parts at a decent price, on a next day delivery. Issue 2: I didn't bring my toolbox. Because I'm an idiot. So I put an SOS call out on the Vanlife groups for the temporary loan of some basic tools, and immediately had half a dozen very kind offers, so thanks to my new friend Sam, I soon had everything I needed. Apart from the parts. This, is where things really started to go from bad to worse. 

I placed my order on the 31st of May, with a company called CarParts4Less, who offered next day express delivery for orders placed before 2pm on a Sunday. Lovely, well worth the £5.95 delivery charge to have the essential parts back on my van. Of course they didn't arrive the next day did they. Or the next day. Oh no. TWO WHOLE WEEKS pass by, and I still didn't receive the parts. 14 Earth days of 2 hour+ phonecall queues and getting cut off, 130+ people customer service livechat queues and getting disconnected, ignored Facebook messages, page comments, tags, Twitter tags, various emails written in various tones - I tried, friends tried, everyone tried contacting this tinpot twobit shithouse company trying to speak to an actual human being to ask where the hell my parts were and/or cancel my order so I can buy them elsewhere. Half a month later, the parts EVENTUALLY ARRIVED LIKE A GIFT FROM YE GODS. I'm joking. Did they fuck. They only went and cancelled the order on me didn't they. Of course they did. Without any sort of notification or explanation, they *cancelled* the order. Not refunded me. No. Just, cancelled. AND THEN had to utter cheek to send me a customer satisfaction email entitled "How Did We Do? We'd Love to Hear from You". You just can't make this shit up.

Two weeks of waiting for the parts was mostly spent (amongst lots and lots of walks with my dog) rationing electricity, because my leisure batteries are charged via split-charge. No drive belt = no charge. I have two huge solar panels, a whole 750watts of sunlight absorbing free electricity. But they're not actually attached to my van. They're currently in my friends garage, because I haven't gotten round to fitting them yet. Because... you guessed it; I'm an idiot. The first few days were fine, I do have two decent leisure batteries which held out for a bit, just charging my phone and Wifi etc and being super stringent, but by day 4 or 5 they were pretty much flat so I had to really conserve what I had left. There is something quite cozy about sitting here by candlelight and watching the wildlife go about it's business, but I'm not going to lie, the evenings were getting pretty boring. My friend Natalie took a drive out here one night to jack me up to her car via jumpleads and get me another few days of electricity into my batteries. She also brought me a little bag of essentials to get me by - bread, milk, biscuits, jelly, A SPIDER PLANT, obviously, you know, all the things a boy needs to make it through an unintentional sit-in protest. I did also buy a solar battery pack off Amazon to get me by, so it was Game On with CarParts4Less - I wasn't quitting and was holding out firm for the damn parts I had paid for.

Once CarParts4Less had clarified my position by kindly cancelling my order for me, my very good friend MyMateMat(tm) offered to pick up the parts locally and take an international daytrip out here with them - he had actually offered right at the very start, but I couldn't allow him to take a whole day out of his life to drive out here and back with parts that I thought, in my youthful niavety, that I could just get shipped via the internet. So when that did fall though, he was right over with a box of goodies (and a sandwich, bless him), and ten minutes later thanks to the tools from Sam, I was back in business with lovely lovely electric.

There we are. It's been an emotional few weeks, y'all. Still, there are worse places to find yourself stuck in Lockdown. 

This one is dedicated to support networks, the generosity of help from friends and strangers, whom are never overlooked, under appreciated, and I couldn't do this without. Look after each other, y'hear? Oh, and, tell CarParts4Less to eat shit and die. Out.

Lockdown

I ended my last post touching briefly on the Corona virus pandemic and how that and the current measures in place affects van dwellers in particular. So I'll continue, with the events of the last few days.

At the time of my last post, we were a week or so into "lockdown", but by the large, this had mostly had no real impact on me, due to the fact that I was parked up on site of a property Ive been working on and had little need or reason to travel anywhere, for work or otherwise, with the exception of to a friends house once a week or so to see my dog and do my laundry. Since then however the government guidance has been escalated into an instruction, being enforced as mandatory rather than advisory.

Arriving at my friends on Sunday, as has been the general routine, a knock on the door followed shortly afterwards - two police officers on the doorstep. I answered, and to briefly summarise the conversation which followed, a neighbour had reported my arrival as breach of lockdown instructions, and I was given an "informal warning" for making unnecessary journeys and visits - the instruction I was given was that I must make a decision to either choose to live in my van in isolation alone, or temporarily reside at my friends house for the remainder of the lockdown period - which is currently undetermined - or face a formal warning next time. I'm currently torn between the two options.

On one hand, the vanlifer in me almost by reflex wants to take my dog and ride out this storm on the road, which for the most part would be fairly easy for me, especially as my van is equipped for off-grid, and I have options of parkup on private land, including my own. The difficulties would be doing laundry and showering - but both of which are doable in the van - and work, which would involve travelling, unless I boondock locally, publicly. Not ideal, especially as that would draw a certain level of attention, particularly as the local beauty spots are being policed for unnecessary travel.

On the other hand, my friend has offered for me to stay for a while, which from a practicality perspective, makes a degree of sense, as I currently have some work (which is regarded as essential and cannot be done from "home") to do in this town so it significantly reduces the amount of travel I would need to do each way, and therefore the risk of further constabulary reprimand. But, whilst I wouldn't want to look a gifthorse in the mouth and all, it's not exactly why I signed up to this nomadic lifestyle, and feels a bit cheaty - plus I've kinda gotten used to and fond of my little shack on wheels. At the same time, I really should be grateful - there are many vanlifers out there currently with nowhere to go, trying their best to keep out of sight and living in fear of hostility. So I'm certainly not ungrateful for both the offer and the options I have available to me which many dont.

So with that in mind, I think I'll take up the offer from my friend to stay here, temporarily at least, even if it does feeling like I'm "selling out" a little. It's not ideal - but, lets be honest, none of this situation is ideal - but this is week 3 of an initial three week lockdown, so we'll see what the next announcement brings, and I'll see how long I can hack bricks and mortar. It may be short-lived. We'll see.

Stay safe out there!

Spring already?!

Forgive me readers, for it has been some time since my last confession. That's really because there's been so little to confess, or really write about at all - but for the sake of prosperity, if nothing else, let's recap.

So it's nearly the end of March. Somehow. I moved into my van in October. The last 6 months has absolutely flown by - in hindsight, transitioning from a regular 9-5 bricks and mortar existence to fulltime offgrid vanlife in winter maybe wasn't the most sensible idea I've ever had, but in my defence, I had my reasons, but I've had a VERY easy winter - and that's despite not having any working gas or running water for the first four months.

Only a couple of weeks into van dwelling, I spotted an advert on a Facebook group for working nomads, from a chap called Mat, looking for a couple of weeks work helping out with the final push on a house renovation project, in exchange for pay, parkup and lunch each day. Two weeks work he said. I'm still here. There's more to this story than I'm going to write about here and now, as it gets quite personal, so I may come back to it sometime, but for now I'll just say that Mat and I have become very close friends, and we've helped each other out with a lot of things since we first met. So I've had a ridiculously easy first winter - secure parkup, good pay, water point, use of a bathroom, time to work on my van, a helping hand, and good company, to list just a few. I've boondocked a few times here and there, taken Sanchez away for the odd weekend in the woods, spent Christmas by the canal, but mostly I've been in one place living comfortably and trouble free. Which doesn't make for the most exciting blog content, but Spring is here at long last, just as we enter unprecedented times of a global pandemic lockdown - which poses it's own set of unique challenges for us Vanlifers. So who knows what I'll be writing about next time!

Stay safe, be good.