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

Sunday, 15 August 2010


I have just spent 15 minutes trying to cram my bike into the back of a Ford Focus. I pushed the two back seats down, yanked the front passenger seat as far forward as it would go, and still it took a lot of pulling, pushing and sweating before I could close the boot. I was parked on a residential street and as I worked, a woman scraped paint from an upstairs window above me, several dog walkers strolled by and a man opened his door to let out a guest, and then shut it silently.

Not one of these people so much as made eye contact with me, let alone offered to help. I did not even get a few words of encouragement from the woman scraping paint. I know for a fact that had any travellers (or Asians in Asia) been nearby, at least someone would have said something to me. I do not mean to attack those who live in bricks and mortar, (I’m sure I will do so again myself some day), but it is surely a sign of the broken society we live in when people go out of their way to avoid looking at another fellow human being?

And that brings me to a favourite song of mine, Society, by Eddie Vedder. It speaks a lot to me about the choices we make in life and I think it’s beautiful.


  1. I know you needed to trade down because the other van was too big, but seriously, living in a Ford Focus is taking it to extremes. ;)

  2. in spain my hubby never filled the tank up. it was £10 a time so we ran out of fuel. a lad lounging against a wall, strolled over, with a fuel can pointed to his car and invited us in. he drove us to the petrol station, about a mile away. we filled his can and he drove us back. we tried to thank him and offered money but he shook his head and went back to his wall to finish lounging. people like that are a rare breed in uk these days. its so sad