The Lady in the Van II

I have just finished reading The Lady in the van-even though it’s a tiny book- and I have mixed feelings. I wish I had met her, even though she had some strange (and disgusting) habits, such as urinating in plastic bags laid over sanitary towels then leaving the towels to dry over her stove. She must have reeked but she was certainly a true eccentric. Unlike Reg and I, who are just normal, boring people trying to get through life without spending all our money on rent and bills.

I highly recommend anyone planning on living in a van to read it, if only to get a feeling for other peoples’ views of those who live in vans. Not that I think everyone assumes we must use plastic bags instead of a toilet but because she would not have made half as interesting a story had she been an eccentric old lady who lived in a house down the road. What was lovely was how well she was tolerated and even looked fondly upon by the local community.

I did buy some heels today by the way, and it was a bit harder than usual to get into the van whilst wearing them.

The Heel

Since attending the first wedding of the summer I have been thinking about high heels. I haven’t worn heels since 2000 and even then I only wore them for a few hours before taking them off and walking home barefoot. So it seems strange that I would choose now when I’m living in a van to reconsider the heel. But after seeing almost every other female at the wedding strutting their stuff with their elegant pins I am thinking that this may be the time.

I like crushing stereotypes. Why should I look scruffy just because I live in a van? I have spent the past thirty years looking scruffy (with a brief interlude in my teens where I actually ironed my hair and wore makeup), so this seems like the perfect time to make an effort with my looks. I have even started brushing my hair on a daily basis. Tomorrow I might go shoe shopping.

Life on the Outside

Living on the outside of society is something I am familiar with from my time of living abroad, struggling to learn languages and understand local customs. But living in a van feels as though we have stepped out of a society that is completely familiar to us, and that can feel strange and a little lonely at times.

We both almost feel as though we are doing something shameful when we speak to certain people. Both of our bosses know where we live yet we try to avoid discussing it at work. Friends and family laugh at us. I’m not offended though. Life is an adventure and this is part of it. One thing I have learned is that I don’t want to live in a van for the rest of my days. This is not a new way of life.

Reg met a man in his sixties who spent three years living in a van but recently decided to get a contract on a flat. He absolutely hates it and I can understand why he would. But I am certain that when the time comes for us to live in a flat again I will be very happy. Like life, happiness is a delicate thing which can be destroyed in an instant by the repercussions of tiny changes. One minute you can be spouting off about how wonderful everything is and the next you are questioning it all. At least that’s how it is for me.

We went to a wedding yesterday (lovely ceremony and party Davey!) and where did I get myself ready? The gym changing room of course. And a very nice changing room it is too.

Motivation

One of the best things about living in a van is the motivation it brings. We are both in the habit of getting up early to go to the gym almost every morning. I don’t usually stay long: 20 or 30 minutes is usually enough of a workout, but it is the consistency that is important. If you ever fancy spending a summer getting fit but don’t think you have the motivation just move into a van on a roadside somewhere.

When things are difficult we tend to value them more. Showers, toilets, ovens…what wonderful inventions! We had a picnic in the park this evening with bread, cheese, smoked salmon, pasta salad and Kentish strawberries. This is the sort of food we tend to live on so a hot meal is a real treat. I wonder when my next one will be?

Midsummer

Finally summer has arrived in Brighton. It is now 8.30pm and I’m sitting in a bar looking out at the sea and it’s still broad daylight. Every winter I find it hard to believe that the sun really stays out until past 10pm on the longest summer days and just how every summer I forget just how cold and wet the winter months are. I have not been swimming in the sea yet this year and I’m not sure whether I will. I used to love that shocking punch of cold water but after having been in tropical heat for so long the thought unnerves me. And I no longer have a nice hot bath to go home to.

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.

The Compromise

My grandmother died on Saturday and at first it made me think positively about living in a van. Life is too short not to do the things we dream of doing and I will never lie on my deathbed wondering what life would have been like living in a van. Life is an adventure.

But having spent the weekend in and out of various family members’ houses, surrounded by things that have always around it was hard to come back to the van which contains none of life’s comforts. As always life is one big compromise.