Travel
#Vanlife for over 50s: the (not so) fast and furious
Think #vanlife is just for tanned 20-somethings with fully-functioning joints? Here's what happened when two 50-somethings joined the Insta-fabulous crew in a tiny homes on wheels.
By Amanda De George
At its heart #vanlife is about hitting the road in a small van that’s decked out like a cosy, boho-style retreat; it’s the journey, not the destination. Think chill vibes and going with the flow and, according to Instagram, tanned, toned 20-somethings in bikinis toasting the sunset with coconuts and cocktails.
So, I was kind of intrigued how we, a couple of less-than tanned and toned 50-year-olds who don’t naturally ‘go with the flow’, would adapt to #vanlife on the road. And by ‘life’ I mean a few days.
After a bit of online searching, we chose our tiny home-away-from-home: ‘Flamingo’, a 2020 Mercedes Vitro. Knowing nothing about vans we chose it solely for convenience; the pick up was nearby, the van small and hopefully easy to drive and it was dog-friendly.
Find similar vans you’ll love on Camplify.
Flamingo’s owner was #vanlife personified: tanned, brimming with positivity and incredibly laidback. After 20 minutes going through the quirks of the van, he dropped the keys in my somewhat sweaty hands and waved us goodbye.
The key chain said ‘You’re Fl-amazing’ but I was actually full of fl-anxiety.
And we’re off
The van itself was just big enough for the two of us and our trusty Frenchie. The walls were covered in white-washed panelling and white cotton tassels that swayed as we drove off. I kind of loved it – random flamingo motifs, huge cushions, fairy lights and all.
After a frustrating adjustment period flicking on windscreen wipers instead of the indicators, we arrived at the campsite and with nothing to set up – one of the benefits of travelling in a tiny van. Instead, we dragged out our camping chairs and opened a bottle of wine as the milky way stretched across the sky.
As we climbed into the back of the van, pulled the curtains closed and settled in for the night, I have to admit, it all felt a little bit romantic… Except at just under 5 metres wide and a couple of metres tall, there wasn’t a lot of room left for, well, anything.
I don’t have the body (or joints) of a 20-year-old and often spend the night rotating like a rotisserie chicken, which proved its own challenge. Rolling one way had me pressed hard against the (gorgeously decorated) side of the van, while rolling the other gave me a face full of snoring dog.
Not to mention that the build that made it possible to have the comforts of home such as a fridge, a decent amount of storage and a pull-out kitchen tucked away under the bed, meant that we were sleeping up near the van’s roof – complete with ventilation fan whirring just above our heads.
A rude awakening
Night one I was woken around 1am by a frantic husband gasping for air, desperate to get outside… And that is how we found out that the man I married is claustrophobic!
We hadn’t expected to be huddled together outside in the wee hours, problem solving, but there was something kind of nice about it. Crickets chirped, a thick fog swirled around us, while a wandering wombat stopped close by to scratch its butt on a fence.
But no matter what we tried, the only way my husband could comfortably get back inside was to flip ourselves around and sleep with the back of the van open, our heads exposed to the elements. While it did start to rain in the night, the raised boot acted as a handy face cover, an unexpected benefit that was not in the brochure.
No sooner had we dozed off, I was awake again; my 50-year-old, post-menopausal bladder waits for no-one. I had to flip over onto my tummy, commando-crawl backwards, dangle my legs over the back of the van, drop to the ground hopefully without twisting an ankle, and escape outside to the loo. By the third time, I had the art of the nighttime commando manoeuvres down pat.
#Vanlife for life?
For all the inconveniences – the claustrophobia, the toilet obstacle run, the days spent living in one another’s pockets with no way to escape torrential rain or bad moods – there was still something pretty special about our time living #vanlife.
The daily hire fee, along with a service fee, insurance, site fees and the cost of diesel didn’t make it a particularly budget getaway (although we did have a bit of control over that side of things).
But #vanlife really is so much more than the sum of its parts.
Tangled up together, trying something new, being able to head anywhere we wanted whenever we wanted and yes, toasting the sunset with coconuts and cocktails, it’s kind of hard to beat the feeling of #vanlife #freedom. Whether you feel it in a 20-year-old body or a 50-year-old one…
Visit Camplify to take off on your own #vanlife trip.
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Feature image: Amanda De George
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