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, 7 June 2010

Where Are They?

I thought that when we moved into the van we would meet a lot of like-minded people but we have yet to really meet anyone. There are those fleeting exchanges of good mornings with passers-by as I dangle my legs from the door, looking towards the sea and eating breakfast. The there are the times that we pass other van dwellers along the seafront and stop to admire their homes. But in my head I imagined that van life would be automatically community spirited which it is not. There are a lot of vans parked along our roads but I hardly ever see their owners. Where are they all?

Van life suits me better than it does Reg. I have a part time job which I don’t have to look particularly smart for. The rest of the time I am a writer and I float through the streets as casually as I please. Reg on the other hand gets up early every weekday morning, goes to the gym to get a shower then puts on his trousers and shirt to do a ‘proper job’. I am guessing that most people who live in vans do not have proper jobs.
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