"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!! ✌️