I am not a hippy. I’m not a crusty. I’m not a gypsy. I work for a living. I pay my taxes and I am a responsible citizen. I believe in recycling. I do not litter. But I want a simple life and so with my husband I’m moving into a van. Maybe we will hate it. Or maybe this is the beginning of a new life.

In search of another life

"They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn..."

Jack Kerouac

Monday, 21 June 2010

The Lady in the Van

I have been leant a book by Alan Bennett called The Lady in the Van. It is the true story of an eccentric old woman who lived in a van in Camden during the 1970s which I have yet to finish. She is described as painting her van with unmixed gloss paint until it looked as though it had been ‘given a coat of badly made custard or plastered with scrambled egg’. When she is given a statutory order for being a risk to public health while parked outside number 63, the way she shruggingly moves all the way along to number 62 is hilarious, but somehow I think this attitude would only be tolerated in a peculiar old lady.

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