Van life, 24/7
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Image by Alexa from Pixabay |
A typical morning
We get up in the morning and slide off the bed … the foot
end of the bed. In fact, each time you need the loo during the night you must
remember to slide off the foot end. While the bed is long enough for my
6 ft hubby, when it’s extended (to get an extra 10 cm of comfort at night) it
obliterates any space needed to get a leg around the side edge … the kitchen
cupboard on my side, the dining seat on hubs’ side. π
So, sliding
out of bed, you make your way to the bathroom, knocking your head on the
overhead cupboard as you turn to sit on the loo. Then you knock your elbow on
the benchtop, after stubbing your toe on the under-sink cupboard that juts out
ever so slightly.
To
wash your hands and face first thing in the morning you bend over the wash
basin and invariably knock your forehead against the tap mechanism because it’s
all black so you just don’t see it. You splash water on your face; it goes
everywhere, including onto your cosy, warm, just-out-of-bed feet, because the
wash basin is so miniscule. Irritated, you now have to dry arms, elbows, face,
and feet.
Put
the kettle on! Oh, wait … kettle is outside to make space inside. You grab a
cover-up to step outside (most often a blanket … mornings can be chilly but it’s
the easiest). Holding the blanket with one hand, you aim to fill the kettle
with the other. (It takes practice.) Ugh … the outdoor kitchen was packed away for
the night … it first has to be pulled out and the water tap put into position. Kettle filled, you’re faced with early-morning-before-coffee
decisions … either carry the sugar basin, coffee filter, coffee, milk etc.
outside, or you bring the kettle indoors and make the coffee here. But hubs is
still sleeping. Oh wait, washed cups are outside. Out you go with everything.
You make several trips because you’re holding onto your cover-up. (Who gets dressed
before coffee?) By this time the squeaky stair and door have hubs awake. He’s
not a morning person. π« “What are you doing …?” he croaks in that
morning voice.
The stair into the van is high because of the 17” wheels (“why do you have 17” wheels?”, you ask. Because, according to hubs, the van was supposed to match the height of the Ford Ranger which is now history π). Each time you go in and out it feels as if you’re climbing Mount Everest. We bought an external separate step to ease the effort on our somewhat ageing knees. So it’s two steps into the van, then two steps more inside the van. Early in the morning it’s fine … if your bones have recovered from the previous day’s activities and the joints all work. Let’s face it, 60+ years of age is not for namby-pambies. But by midday, you wait for your partner to go into the van and then ask them to get what you need. π€ It’s continually a “pass me the … while you’re there” or “since you’re in there, please grab the … for me”. π Partner is immediately irritated because he/she now has an extra task which often involves looking for the item the other person needs.
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Back to breakfast … you’ve carried the eggs, oil, fry pan, bread for toast, butter, etc. outside to the outdoor kitchen. You light the gas only for the wind to blow it out. And you only notice 10 mins later when the water is still not boiling or the egg is not frying. The wind blows everything about or the flies insist on landing where they shouldn’t … usually on the same spot on your face or in the butter you opened to spread on a slice. Or, the sun is already stinging and the butter begins to melt. So, you pick everything up and climb Mount Everest for the 50th time that morning to make brekkie inside after all. So what if the van smells like bacon and toast until lunchtime?
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By congerdesign from Pixabay |
The
bed cover, throw, ornamental pillows, teddy, and more are piled on the table,
along with yesterday’s clothing that is still good to go for one more day. (We wear
our clothes until we can’t anymore – there’s not that much to choose from
anymore, and besides, using water for washing must be planned well ahead.)
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by Myriams-Fotos from Pixabay |
You need the table cleared. “Let’s make the bed darl”, you say. Because making the bed is easier if you are two. If you’re one, rest assured, you’re going to have your daily workout! You’ll also come away with a stubbed toe as you make your way around and around and up to the top on your hands and knees to tuck in the top end, after bumping your head on the overhead cupboard.
Aaah, the feeling when the bed is made up. π At least the bedroom is tidy!
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Now to
set that unstable table. “Take your hat off the table! And your belt too. Here’s
that tool you were looking for.” It all
gets piled onto the bed! “Oh, please put the clean T-shirts on the bed, I’ll
pack them away.” You pass it all on to the one closer to the bed because you
can’t swap places … that has to be planned too. π
“Ah,
can you get the dish rack out of the way so I can use the toaster?” (Dish rack
goes to the bed.) The kitchen plank gets moved across the sink to make a workspace
and finally, you can open the stovetop to make poached eggs. Gotta eat
healthy, right?
Exhausted
you want to sit down, but there’s no space on the bed, and moving in behind the
(unstable) table to sit on the seat is a feat you only execute when you’re
ready to sit and actually eat!
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Breakfast
made, coffee made, all you need to do is settle next to each other on the seat
… the potato and onion basket is moved from the seat to the bed too, to make space.
Coffee is poured! The table gets moved out to allow me to slide into my spot (hubs
is seated … waiting for those eggs!) I sit down, oh … the salt and pepper! He’s
penned in, so up I get, with all the care in the world not to bump the table or
else the coffee goes everywhere. Condiments deposited on the table, I gingerly slide
back in keeping a beady eye on the coffee cups. Whew! Success, let’s tuck in.
It’s
sourdough toast … hubs gets into it with meaning using his knife. Coffee goes everywhere!
Sighing, I slide out again for a cloth to wipe up the mess … π₯΄
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One of our more successful attempts at breakfast inside. |
This
is by 8 in the morning … are you tired yet? Shall I continue? No, I thought
not. Lol. Welcome to caravan life!
After two
months full time in the van, bruises are still the norm. Stubbed toes are
regular. Bumps on the head are taken as par for the course. π
And do you know what? We are loving this lifestyle.
The ‘Green’ loo
This is an ongoing experience … I’m waiting for the day when we forget to empty the ‘liquids’ bottle (as it is discreetly called in the manual) before bed and use it all night, only to find it overflowing in the morning. π³π (Is it just us? We wake up every 2 – 3 hours to use the loo! ππ) Once so far it has hit the brim … π€¦
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Our 'green' loo! (c) undeserted |
But it is sooo good to have your own toilet in the middle of the night, to not waste precious water in the tanks on a smelly cassette toilet system, and to not have to visit a dump point. “The liquids,” says the manual, “can be diluted and used to fertilise gardens and plants.” These two weeks that we have been parked under trees … suffice to say, we are hoping that we haven’t ‘fertilised’ the trees to death as it were. π³π Either that or the grass is going to grow where it wouldn’t before. π And no… there is no smell from the (compostable) “solids”. π
Lights on … windows and blinds shut tight!
Anyone
who knows me, knows I need air. Preferable fresh air. Thankfully we have an AC
because if we dared to open windows with lights on in the van after dark, we
would be inundated. Bugs seem to be able to come in somewhere. The white strip
lights above the counters are our favourite to use. We saw someone’s tip to
tape yellow tradesman’s tape over the strip lights. The bugs weren’t put off. We
put a second layer over and that seemed to slow their appearance. It’s also softer
on the eye. π

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It’s a sticky business…
To
make the van homely, we have put up posters, pictures and wot-nots. But we have
had to constantly re-apply stickers, as one after the other they fall off. Seemingly,
nothing is prepared to stay put against these composite walls. Once, losing my
temper, I decided to take the Gorilla glue and use that. AJ was teaching. It
wouldn’t come out of the nozzle, so I screwed the top off and got into it with
a toothpick
“Aaaaargh
… AJ! Help!”
He
jumps up, students are left hanging. He gets to me in the bathroom, where my
fingers are firmly glued together! And he bursts out laughing. π
I’m crying out in fear as I have visions of skin giving way. π±
“What
did you think?” he says. “It’s Gorilla glue!” (Said students hear all! π₯΄)
I now
know what Gorilla glue is. It took 3 days to remove from my fingers. Moral of
the story, don’t lose your temper with objects … it ain’t worth it! You’ll come
second. (I could hear the students’ laughter through AJ’s earphones as he
related the story with glee. π€π
)
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Pretty things = more work
Who says you can’t be surrounded by pretty things because you live in a van? You sure can have pretty dΓ©cor. But pretty things can’t all be stuck down to secure them for travel days, so they need to be packed up before the van can be towed. It’s so nice to look at special shells and little pot plants. A flower here and a tea towel there.
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Everything we have as decoration in the van has a special memory attached to a special person or of a place or moment in time.
From a magnet to a picture, a shell to a photograph.
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A magnet to recall my fav spot in Qatar when I worked at the museum library. |
You can lose things in a van …
It’s
only 17 feet. It only has that much packing space. Trust me, we have managed
to mislay things. So much so, that we have had to search the van with a fine
comb to find what is lost! Usually, it’s right under our noses … like the
firelighter we store in the pouch right by the door so that it can be reached
easily from outside. Did we search for the thing! Seriously, how does one
forget so easily yet pass by the item day in and day out, without seeing it?
But
when something is stored under the bed … it’s missing! Why … because we forget
there is storage under the bed. π
Storage
Now
here’s the challenge, right? An overhead cupboard (2 ft x 1 ft x 1ft) is
dedicated to pantry products. The other three (much smaller) cupboards are 1.
for cutlery and crockery, 2. for drinking glasses and measuring jugs etc. and
3. for the stick blender, kettle and toaster and flat pack food storage
containers. One out of 4 drawers is dedicated to tea and coffee needs. One is
set aside for herbs and spices. One for all my cooking utensils (what a
messy drawer π£)
and one more ‘drawer’/space (on the floor of the van) that we use to store
tinned foods and cartons of soy milk because it has deep space and is right
over the axle where heavy things belong. (When you need a tin, you go down on
all fours. Yep, all fours! Not always a pretty sight. Getting up again must be carefully
planned because you can’t lean on the unstable table! So, bottom in the air,
you come up on hands and feet, then slowly lift yourself off the floor, stacking
your spinal column as they show in workout videos, and hoping that you will
get your body upright. All the while promising yourself that tomorrow,
TOMORROW, you’re going to start working out. You knock your head on the table
on the way up. You glare at it. Unaffected by the glare, it just sits there, locked
into its happy spot. You quickly check that nobody’s glass of whatever was on
the table.)
“Where”,
I hear you ask, “do you keep the rest of your groceries? How do you manage?”
Under
the bed! Yep, we sleep on our pantry store. And why is it that whenever
anything is needed from the ‘pantry’, the bed is piled high with stuff and is
heavier to lift. It’s supposed to be an effortless lift; it has air struts that
help with the lift and which keep the bed up in the air. But it’s rather intimidating
when you’re on all fours, diving into a container underneath, fully aware that
if the struts give way, you’re going to be a squashed bug!
"And your clothing?" Umm ... π
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Each item rolled up ... a side for me, the other for hubs. Storage boxes just don't fit. |
Under
the bed is also where the ironing board and iron lives. And the box of baking
utensils. And the TV that we haven't yet used. And it’s where the lithium batteries live.
And the inverter. And the DC2DC charger. And all those gadgets are rather
imposing … wires everywhere, with little lights flashing and boxes that keep
them secure so they can’t budge. π³π
When we
sleep at night, we pretend they aren’t a mere 20 cm from our bodies, powering
away, keeping the van going.
Talking of power …
To our
dismay we discovered (by accident) that we needed another lithium battery in
the caravan soon because it’s preferable NOT to add a new battery to an
old one … so no adding when you think you can afford it, later down the
line. If you’re planning to stay full-time in a van, plan your power needs and
get the system installed from the start – one that will meet your needs. Professionals
can help with the planning. We didn’t consult, we just guessed. Epic fail! Consequently,
we’ve had to dig into emergency funds to add a battery. And another battery
needs more solar. And the top of the van can’t take more solar… so we’re
shopping around for external solar panels. External panels need an additional
Anderson plug on the caravan which needs professional installation. πΈ
Sigh
…. will we ever get to a complete setup?
Then,
as if that pain wasn’t enough, we stepped into another power mess. Let me
explain … Sandy’s Essentials was planned as a side hustle. Forgetting just how
hot it gets in Queensland in summer, all manner of oils, butters, waxes, and
essential oils were purchased. All these need to remain cool, preferably at one
temperature. π£
All good, we thought. We housesit in homes with air conditioners. Until we
housesat during a heatwave in a house with no air conditioner! It was 38 and 39
during the day. Stinking hot. (AJ annexed the van to teach from … π
… I sweltered. Mmmm…. come to think of it, he did quite a few extra prep hours
those few days. π) We ate lunch in the van for a reprieve! The
supply of oils etc. (also in the van) was melting from the heat of the night. (The essential oils are stored in the fridge,
so they were ok.)
Tackling the problem, we reckoned an external fridge would do the trick. After looking at a bunch of brands, we bought one on sale. Not the best, not the most expensive, a middle-of-the-road type of investment. THEN we realised that it needed its own battery to keep it cool when it’s in the car and not plugged into AC (home) power. THEN, of course, the battery needs to be wired into the car by an auto electrician, so that the car charges it when the engine is on. Then, says the salesman, when the car is not switched on and charging the battery, the battery needs solar panels on top of your vehicle to keep it charged. Huh?! All to keep the fridge cool. Epic fail! πΈπΈπΈ We walked away with an unplanned major expense – to provide for a side hustle that I haven’t had the brain power to get up and going yet. The panels and battery box system turned out to be more expensive than the fridge. π Talk about embarrassing. Luckily, hubs can keep his beer in the fridge too. π
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π€ |
At least the battery box can also power his laptop on days when the van’s power might fade. To cap it all, the fridge and its contents, battery box and extra solar panel, add 60kg to the car. π£ “The things a man will do for his wife” mutters hubs, as he has airbag suspension installed in the car. (I argue that the car sags because of the weight of his tool bag … anyway, airbag suspension helps. π)
About that weight …
Off we
went … water tanks full, check! Gas bottles full, check! Petrol tank full,
check! Caravan fridge full, check! Everything loaded into the van and the car,
as if we were travelling, check! (Including THAT Sandy’s Essentials fridge!)
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Office or a dining area?
When hubs works from the van it’s quite an experience. At 1 pm the dining table and seat become an office! All the gear gets packed out and he connects to his online classes. We still stand amazed – we use our phones as hotspots for our computers. Our national network’s mobile data package carries all our internet needs. He trains online, and I use my quota to blog, do research, work on admin and more.
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(c) undeserted My workspace, you ask? π Here it is … |
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Made a plan to have a standing desk! |
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Shower curtain privacy! |
Towing
days need checklists!
We’re
still getting used to it all. Each time we tow we tend to forget something. I
shouldn’t divulge this, but once it was the ‘liquids’ bottle in the green loo. π«ππ
By the time we could stop it was all over the inner space of the toilet –
thankfully contained!! Capping the bottle, I took three toilet rolls and
chucked them into the space. Locking the van, we sheepishly went on our way. It
was something to sort out at the next destination. You can’t be squeamish if
you have a composting toilet. Neither forgetful! π
by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay
The
last time we towed, we forgot to clip on the towing mirrors. Halfway through
Gympie town, I noticed they weren’t attached. Hubs pulled up at the first place
we were able to stop. He hopped out to attach them. I looked up and straight
into a traffic camera – and a “Busses only” traffic sign. π«π
(Waiting for the ticket.) And that reminds me, those checklists must be made
up! We must work with checklists!!!!
I hope I’ve managed to give you a peek into our full-time living in a van. π It keeps us on the go… keeps us moving and active in more ways than we could have imagined. It’s fun, it’s hard work, and it’s not straightforward. It’s constant adherence to rules and regulations. It requires advance planning, foresight, and constant checking and monitoring of gear. Moving parts need regular attention. Weight and balance are vital. Thankfully hubs has a lot of weight and balance experience from his helicopter career.
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To wrap up ...
Soon we leave for rural Queensland, where we will housesit – with no pets – just housesit, for three months. We are looking forward to a reprieve from travelling around, packing up and packing down. Still, we wouldn’t want any other life right now. We are happy. We feel content to own only that which can fit into 17 feet. (Apart from winter clothes in storage at Nadya’s house and some special books, we tow what we own.) It’s an uncanny feeling when you stop and think about it.But nothing beats that early morning cup of coffee, outside in nature,
with the smell of the dew on the grass and the wind rustling through the trees.
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Therefore,
we appreciate each of you, for your messages and support in prayer. π
We pray for you too.
Thank
you for stopping by. Until next time, from Esk, it’s cheerio for now. πΌ
DISCLAIMER:
No husbands or caravans were harmed during the telling of this story. But
fiction it is not.
ππ love every detail, you are a master story writer Sandy. Thanks for taking me with you through this adventure of you and Andries π love you guys so much π€π
ReplyDeleteSo glad you enjoyed this. Thanks for letting me know. Do leave your name next time, I'd love to know who you are. Love, S.
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