#Vanlife – Is it possible in the UK?

 It was a cold week in January and my life was starting to feel like the movie Groundhog Day; wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch #vanlife videos, sleep.

It was like a Fatboy Slim track without the rave “Eat, Sleep, Rave, Repeat, Eat, Sleep, Rave, Repeat”

 I started wondering; I bet the Matneys never feel like this. They wake up in a beautiful location every morning; a beach in Mexico, a remote woodland in Colorado next to a waterfall, a Walmart carpark in Austin. Maybe I could have a #vanlife adventure of my own.

 According to Wikipedia:

·       #vanlife is a form of adventure tourism that involves a van that is liveable and self-sustained that can access remote areas to recreate in.
·       #vanlife is a converted motor vehicle that can be used as a full-time home or a recreational vehicle, i.e some people are weekend warriors, some people on short-term adventurers and some people are full-time travellers.

 "Remote areas to recreate in" not sure Emily would approve of me recreating but "Weekend Warrior" I can do.

Is #vanlife possible in the UK?

 First, I needed a suitable location. I went back to YouTube and checked out some UK #vanlife Vlogs for some inspiration. Theo and Bee from The Indie Projects were currently living on their land in Portugal, Kite Van Man was enjoying the winter in France and as for Nate Murphy he was climbing a mountain in Israel. Not a lot of help to me, I have 24 hrs available and live in East Anglia.

 What I needed is something more realistic and closer to home. I decided to head to Norfolk and explore the coast. There are various websites dedicated to motorhome and campervan overnight spots and it was here that I found a suitable location.

 Ron was loaded up with the vanlife essentials, I had a fruit hammock, a stainless-steel water bottle and a fridge full of avocados. The Audi was moved to one side and Ron and I set off....to work.

 The day was filled with tales of what my adventure may become, would I be drinking Chai tea? Could I grow my hair quick enough for a man bun? Which bikini clad girls would I meet on the way? Before I knew it was 5.30pm and I was free. My spot for the night was a small carpark within walking distance of a beautiful beach and I would be driving there in the dark. The 2-hour journey flew by with the help of some banging tunes and a few scary country lanes.

 I arrived at the location, reversed into a corner and breathed a sigh of relief. The car park was empty, the passing road was quiet, and I was alone with my thoughts. It was 8.30pm and the world was my oyster. Now what would Eamon and Bec do? I had forgotten to buy a skateboard and I'm not sure a time lapse would be successful with an iPhone. Instead I walked a few laps of the car park and headed back inside for a beer. It's a funny experience sitting in a carpark in the dark. Every car that came past was a potential threat, surely, they'd see me and ask me to move on. 

 By 930pm It was starting to get cold, so I made up the bed and turned in. I slept well and was only awoken at around 630am by a car pulling into the carpark. By now I cared less about who found me, so I got dressed and headed off to the beach. The car turned out to be a lady photographer here to film the birds migrating. We exchanged pleasantries and I continued on my way. The sun was just starting to rise as I strolled along MY beach, the only person mad enough to be here this early. 

MY beach, for this morning at least

 For breakfast I decided to head along the coast to Cley-on-Sea, here is a carpark directly on the coast, a potential future spot maybe. I cooked up a great breakfast of porridge with black coffee and went off to explore. By now a few bird watchers had arrived so I walked west along the beach. This area of Norfolk is renowned for being the birthing place for grey and common seals, around 2000 are born here each year. There were still a few about and I stood and watched one being washed by the incoming waves. 

Another great location, no overnight parking

  

 The rest of the day was spent exploring similar locations, Salthouse, Weybourne, West Runton, Cromer, Overstrand and finally onto Happisburgh. 

 Now if like me you have never heard of this place you could be tricked into thinking it is pronounced exactly how it is spelt Happys Berg. This is exactly what I thought when I got talking to some litter pickers who were busy removing all the fisherman ropes, plastic bottles and other litter along the shore. "It's nice here in Happys Berg I declared, never been before" They looked at me strangely and I wondered if it was my accent. All I can say now that I have been educated is that if they had named the town Haze-bruh then I would call it Haze-bruh

 After Happisburgh I continued to Waxham. At each location I followed a similar routine; park up, check out the car parking restrictions, go for a walk then back for a coffee or snack.

Time for coffee

  Out of the 9 car parks visited 6 of them had signs to declare "No Overnight parking" or "No Camping" the ones which didn't have signs were not in amazing locations, with glorious views of the sea, but in quieter, less popular car parks. It would appear that the Norfolk council, at least, are not fond of offering free overnight accommodation, I guess they prefer campervans to stay at campsites and pay for the privilege. 

 Whilst this trip was great fun and I had proved that #vanlife could, be possible in the UK it is not easy and not as glamorous as I had hoped. Will I continue on my quest for a free place to sleep? Most defiantly. Will I be giving up my house to live in a van? Unlikely. 

The Victorious Festival

 The Victorious Festival 2016 is what I believe to be, the trigger to my Mid Life crisis. It may not have been the only trigger but it played a part.

 In 2016 I attended a music festival in Southsea, Portsmouth called Victorious. I have attended a lot of music festivals over the years but this was the first one I had attended with any of our children. This was a father and son weekend and I was keen to show C the delights of festival life. The Victorious Festival was being headlined by Noel Gallagher and the Manic Street Preachers and there were various other acts playing. We had booked to stay at an Airbnb owned by a slightly older gentlemen called Stewart. Stewart was in his early 60’s lived alone and, from what I could gather, made most of his money, and friends, from Airbnb bookings. When we arrived he couldn’t wait to show us his record collection, naming all the bands he had seen and the ones he had met back stage. He took a lot of pleasure in playing obscure vinyl from bands he had “almost” managed back in the day. We found it hard to get away from the guy but he was harmless.

The Victorious Festival, what a location!

 The festival is on Southsea common and we had brought our bikes to cycle there from Stewarts flat each day. Once we had had enough of his name checking we made our excuses and headed to the site. For anyone who hasn’t been to the Victorious Festival let me describe it; The festival is spread across a large area that encompasses the common and seafront, inside is the The D Day Story, Southsea Skate Park and Southsea Castle, as well as the usual festival goodies. What made the festival feel special to me was its proximity to the beach.

 We spent the day exploring the area, checking out some unknown bands, eating ice creams and playing on the bouncy castles. There were only a few bands I wanted to see on this first day and they didn’t  start until early evening. Travis were playing on the main stage and I hadn’t seen them play live since they headlined the Reading festival in 2001, a mere 15 years earlier. As we squeezed through to get a good position at the side of the stage it was apparent they would be drawing a big crowd. We have been brainwashing our children since an early age so C was as excited as I was to see them. The first song started and we sang along where we could and enjoyed the atmosphere. The highlight of their set is always the anthemic “Why Does It Always Rain On Me” and when this began the crowd erupted. As we sang along I took a minute to look around me, to stare at the other revellers and to wonder. ‘What were all these old people doing watching this band?’ Surely they have always attracted a much younger audience in the past… 

 Then it hit me. …When I had last seen Travis in 2001 I was 26, I had no commitments as such, no pets and no children. I would have been dressed in similar clothing, drinking the same beer, dancing to the same tunes but 15 years had passed since then and I was now one of THEM. A middle aged man doing a Dad Dance to some out of date tunes from over a decade ago. Surely not. I didn’t feel any different, okay my legs were aching a bit and I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay up until the very end of the gig but was I really MIDDLE AGED 😲. I needed to sit down, I wasn’t ready for this, there was so much I hadn’t done. I was not ready to turn into Stewart just yet.

How old am I?

 I spent the next few days observing these middle aged ravers, they (we) behaved the same as we always had, we drank, we sang, we danced in the same way, just… a little slower and a little sadder. The festival was over but before we headed home Stewart wanted to show us some sights. So by 11am we were cruising around Southsea seafront in this man’s convertible BMW 3 series. Music blaring away, enjoying a tour of the historical sights.

 Maybe middle age isn’t so bad after all, I just needed to embrace it. Would Emily mind if I traded in the C-Max for a BMW Convertible or, maybe, I need to trade her in too! 😲

Emily! We need a new car!

An accident in the Peaks

 The date had been added to the calendar several weeks ago “PEAK DISTRICT WILDCAMP”. In our house this is the only way to ensure a free weekend. The plan was to meet up with a friend on the Saturday morning, drive the 3 hours to the Peak District and spend a night wild camping at the top of a mountain. I had several locations in mind; Kinder Downfall would be in full flow, Bleaklow has a wreckage of a WW2 aircraft I’ve wanted to see or if the weather wasn’t too good, we could find a valley to explore.

 So it was that 3 nights before I messaged my friend to confirm the plan. “Bleaklow looks pretty boggy” was my opening line.” Sorry can’t make it this weekend, problems with the babysitter” was the response….

 This left me with a bit of a dilemma, do I go solo and drive to the Peak District on my own? Do I invite the family? Do I go somewhere local? Too many options lead to uncertainty and doubt starts to creep in. Maybe I shouldn’t bother! What If I leave it for another time? What about the cost of fuel? All these thoughts ran through my mind for 24hrs, until I made a decision…. I WOULD go to the Peaks and I would have an adventure even if I did it on my own.

 I approached the family with the offer “Who fancies a weekend in the Mountains” No positive response was received only reasons why this couldn’t happen. Emily was looking after a friend’s dog, M said it was too cold, C had a football match on Saturday. A solo it would be.

 I looked out the window at the wintery weather, do I really need to camp in a tent to have fun when I have a perfectly good camper looking back at me. Why not take Ron on a Vanventure? I can take more kit, go on a day walk and sleep in a carpark, small campsite or ideally a beautiful location overlooking a lake.

 I started my research with a few Facebook pages that give away Motorhome Overnight Stops. I typed in Peak District and reviewed the results. A few possibilities were noted down and added to Google Maps for review later. 

 It was whilst reviewing my possibilities that I got a text from Emily “Football cancelled, C wants to come away with you”. My solo had turned into a Father and Son weekend a much more pleasant idea.

The Roaches

 I finished work and arrived home, Emily had done some of the packing but I had a list of things in my head we may need; head torch, waterproofs, camera, Food….Food! what will I do about food? C needs to eat at least every 30 mins and I didn’t like to consider what would happen if either of us got hungry. I didn’t have time to hit the supermarket and I wanted an early start, I would have to raid the cupboards and bring what we have. Does the Peak District have shops?

 The plan was to leave as early as possible and so we were on the road by 8am. C kept us entertained for the journey by asking Alexa to tell us jokes like “What is blue and not heavy?" (answer at the end of the blog), playing some classic Daft Punk tracks and even giving us a weather forecast; 13 degrees and sunny spells…result

We arrived at our location, the car park near to Lud’s Church unfortunately it was full so had to wait for a space. Arriving in a VW camper always seems to get a bit of attention and the couple who kindly gave up their parking space wanted a tour of our facilities. Always happy to oblige.

 By the time we had had yet another snack it was hitting 12pm, we needed to head off if we were to complete the walk before dark. I had downloaded a rough map on the Viewranger app but with no 4G available we would have to follow our noses. The walk started in the carpark at Gradbach Scout Camp and headed through a woodland to the Roaches. The weather was great, and it wasn’t long before we were down to our T-shirts. February weather couldn’t get much better than this. The planned walk was showing as 8.5 miles and it was a little hard going, I was a little concerned about getting back late so we only had a short time to scramble the rocks before heading back towards Lud's Church and Ron the Camper. Lud’s Church is a deep chasm in the bedrock created by a landslip in the hillside. It is over 100m long and 18m deep. It was reportedly used as a place of worship during the 15^th century and it is pretty spectacular.

Lud's Church

 We spend the afternoon scrambling over boulders, squeezing into caves and traversing trickling streams, before we knew it was time to head back. 

 Ron was parked in the car park where we intended to spend the night, we arrived back to find just one other vehicle; a Mercedes Sprinter. I assumed they would be joining us for the night but first we had to go get dinner. The receptionist at the local hotel had recommended a pub 20mins away called the Lazy Trout and we arrived just before dark.

 After a lovely meal and a couple of games of Who Wants to be a Millionaire and Ludo it was time to return. Driving in the dark is never something I cherish but we arrived back safely. We had hoped for a corner plot close to the babbling brook, but the Mercedes Sprinter had blagged that one. 

 We parked a few spaces away and started to set up our bed, this is where the accident happened. The rock n roll bed in our van has a habit of losing the seat belt clips and as I was pulling it down, they jammed between the metal frame. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and had I known what I know now I would have been more careful. Instead I put both hands between the gap and tried to prise out the seatbelt clips. The bed then opened fully and locked with the fingers from both hands jammed between…Did I cry? No but very nearly. Instead I screamed for C to help me lift the bed up so I could release my trapped fingers. I could feel the pain and had visions of being stuck there all night or having to send C for help. After a few minutes of discomfort, we managed to pull my crushed fingers free. The blood returned but my fingers looked in a bad way. 

Our home for the night

 To cut a long story short the pain in my fingers soon subsided and there was no after affects the next day. I didn’t openly cry, and the feeling of sickness soon went away with the aid of a cold beer. We had a great night’s sleep and returned home the next day with tales of mountains, babbling brooks and crushed fingers.

Had I been on my own it may have been a different picture. Imagine this:

“Alexa I need help”

“Playing Help by the Beatles”

“No Alexa! Call the Police”

“Playing hits by Sting”

PS the answer to Alexa's joke "What is blue and not heavy"...."Light Blue"

Do I want to spend the night sleeping atop a viewing tower?

 That was the question I asked myself, one cold wet Friday afternoon. The tower in question is a 1987 viewing platform built on the site of a Napoleonic Watch tower.  It sits high above the surrounding trees and offers 360-degree views of Sandringham Park, Norfolk.

The viewing tower

 This wasn't the first time I had heard of the tower, some friends and fellow wild campers had stayed there in the summer, they had reported back with photos of amazing sunsets, a cool summer breeze and waking up to the sound of bird song. But this was January. 

 I thought long and hard, I'm not usually one to turn down an adventure but it had been a while since I'd been out, and I was getting soft. The temperature was showing at 5 degrees and the wind would be hailing. I could feign an injury; broken finger nail or maybe signs of the bubonic plague would do but life is for living and what's the worst that could happen?

 

 So it was that I loaded up my rucksack with my warmest clothes, a hip flask and a square piece of tarpaulin that would be my home for the night and I set off. It was a two-hour drive to the site and a friend was meeting me there. 

 I arrived at a nearby church, said my prayers and waited for my friend to arrive. When wild camping it's always sensible to park the car somewhere safe, inconspicuous and generally close to civilisation. As wild camping isn't strictly legal anywhere in the UK you must be careful not to advertise what you are doing. I was just looking for somewhere safe to park when D arrived in her flower ordained Hippie mobile. Very inconspicuous

Ron was sad not to be included in the adventure

 The tower was a 15min walk away and we had around an hour to sun down so we set off.

My plan was to arrive, take a lot of pictures then get dinner on and get the tarps up. Unfortunately, in the rush to get to the top I completely forgot to take any pictures of the tower. Mistake no.1

The view from the tower was amazing and the skies cleared up to give us a lovely starry night. Dinner was a ready meal chicken casserole followed by chocolate and a cup of tea. Evenings are long when it gets dark so early and by 9pm we were cold enough to call it a night. The tarps were erected as best we could. This involved a lot of granny knots and wrapping the guy lines around the structure. Mistake no. 2. 

We arrived just before sunset

 This is where I would normally boil some water for a hot water bottle, but the wind had kicked in and it has started to rain. I couldn’t be bothered. 

 Sleeping in a bivvy bag is a little difficult at the best of times but I snuggled in and soon warmed up. 

 After a few fidgety moments/hours I eventually drifted off the sleep with the wind whistling around my face and the sound of the tarp flapping in my ears.  When wild camping it is very unlikely get more than a few hours sleep but this night was particularly restless. The noise of the tarp flapping in the wind got worse as the night went on and no matter how much I clutched my make shift pillow I kept losing it out of my bag.

An uncomfortable night's sleep

 I assumed D was having an equally uncomfortable night and by 5 am things were getting worse. The wind had somehow untied the tarp and I was starting to get wet. I pulled myself out and looked up to see the tarp flying around like a kite. Time to leave, breakfast can wait.

 Now that the tarp was untying it was a race against the clock to get out, dressed and everything packed up before we got soaked. Trousers were pulled on inside the bivvy, and my sleeping quilt was packed away to stay dry. We now had to untie all the knots and get the tarps down. If you have ever tried doing a coat up or tying a shoelace with cold hands this was a lot worse. We soldiered on and eventually everything was packed away, and we were free to go.  No photos. No breakfast no memorable sunrise.

 We said our goodbyes and set off. Knowing I was heading home to two excited children I decided I couldn’t afford to skip breakfast so headed to the local McScottish takeaway. I walked in with my usual cocky swagger. The kind of walk that says “I am a true adventurer. While you lot were sleeping in your beds, I was outside, braving the storm”

Everyone looked at me in awe. You could see the admiration in their faces when I ordered my Egg McMuffin. Or at least that is what I imagined...it could just have been my unkept hair, unbrushed teeth and inside out trousers. 

A house full of feathers

 I came home from work today to a house full of feathers and a very excited M. "Jackson bought me a present!" she screamed at the top of her voice. "Wow" i said "Was it a new bike?" This lead to some confusion on her part as it was clearly a blackbird that had caused all the fuss. Silly Daddy!

 We have had various cats in the house since way before we even thought about children. All our cats came from rescue organisations and all have enjoyed hunting. Our last two cats had been brought up on a farm and hunting was their job. We had all manner of items brought home from lizards to voles and even a pigeon. All were brought home in the early hours and left as presents for our unsuspecting children.

Jackson the hunter

 This current victim was brought in alive and had a tour of the house before meeting it's demise.

 So back to the present day and after clearing up the feathers from the house it was time to take M to bed. We trudged up the stairs talking about the highlights of the day. There on the top of the stairs was our cat, Jackson, looking pretty smug  "Naughty Cat" I said "why are you bringing birds home?"

It didn't stand a chance

 M looked at me strangely..... "The cat didn't bring the bird home, she said in a rather know it all voice... it was a present from Jackson, my friend at school"

 Now I was confused did M really think that a 6 year old child from her class had brought her a live blackbird as a gift and sneaked into our house to let it run amok?

....It would appear, with the innocence of a 5 year old, that this is exactly what she believed.

Our first Ad'Van'ture

So Ron the camper had been a part of our family for at least 7 days and as we had a sports tournament to attend in Nottingham, I had an idea for an adventure. Sure we could make the 2 hour trip in the car and get back that evening but where's the fun in that?

So the plan was in place, we would load up the van with a few essentials Friday night; crisps, snacks, bacon, sausages more crisps, more snacks. We would leave early Saturday, explore the area, attend the tournament and then spend the night at a small campsite.

The van was loaded, the children were briefed for an early start and I spent the remainder of the evening researching campsites and things to do in the area. This is what I do best. With the assistance of google maps and a ton of websites, some options were found and added to the million other stars that adorn my Google Maps page.

Elvaston Castle Country Park

 Nottingham is not somewhere we had been before and we wanted to avoid the city centre. I had a country park in mind and a few options for campsites. 

 Elvaston Castle Country Park was our first stop off but traveling with kids takes a lot longer than expected and we arrived around an hour late. We just about had time to find a decent parking spot, put on a brew and play in the park before rushing off to the tournament. 

The thing about VW owners is that we like to stick together so I was pretty pleased to see a couple of other vans in the car park. I tried given them the VW thumb wave but they just looked at me as if to say "who are you trying to be in our club"
We spent half of the day watching the game and the other half hanging out in the van with M. We even watched some TV.

McCracken and Flint wearing borrowed jerseys

 The games dragged on until the early evening but C finally came out with a silver medal. One very happy but hungry child.

 Dinner…? In the rush to get out I hadn't thought anything about dinner and after a day of dodging balls C was about to go loopy at me. Google maps to the rescue and a fish and chip shop nearby. 

 After all that entertainment and full bellies all round we still had to find somewhere to sleep for the night. Luckily I had seen a small camping club site down the road and after a phone call they were happy to take us in, even without membership. 

 It was now getting on for 8pm and getting dark, we all tucked ourselves up in bad cracked open the chocolates and watched an old DVD of Transformers the movie.
We fell asleep after a great day and dreamed dreams of vans and robots and ROBOT VANS!

Ron looking rather lonely

We own a campervan

 After watching far too many #vanlife videos in 2018 we decided, for ultimate freedom, we needed a campervan.

Cutie the campervan we hired in Iceland

The thought of owning a campervan wasn’t new to us, we had spent 6 days in June 2018 travelling across Iceland in a VW California, and we'd owned a caravan for two years previous. The kids love camping and this is a step up from a tent. When it comes to campervans there are a few options available in the UK, a lot of Vanlifers go down the route of a Mercedes Sprinter, a larger van with a fitted kitchen, bathroom and fixed bed, however we felt this would be too difficult to park in town and wanted something that would fit on our drive.

A smaller option would be a Mazda Bongo, these can be fitted with a pop top to add an additional 2 beds and often come with sink and hob. This was an option we considered but we just couldn’t get our heads around the look of them, they are just not cool…(Sorry Bongo owners).

If we are to invest a lot of money into a camper there was only one real option; we wanted a VW.

Volkswagen have been making the transporter van since 1950 and there are now 6 versions available (T1-T6). For the budget we had in mind we were looking at the T4 (made from 1990 to 2003) or the T5 (2003 to 2016).

We started to scour the internet to see what was around. The good thing about the VW scene is that there are a lot of websites dedicated to buying, selling and maintaining these vehicles, the bad thing for a potential owner is that there are ALOT of websites….where do we start? I decided to join a few Facebook pages and searched Marketplace for vehicles within a 2 hour drive. It is not unusual for people to travel as far as Cornwall for the right van but considering we really didn’t know what we were after we decided to look closer to home. After a few weeks of searching we came across a few vehicles we wanted to go see; a 2004 T5 with pop top but no kitchen or cooker/sink, A 2001 T4 with kitchen units and cooker/sink but no pop top and a 2003 T4 with pop top, a fully fitted kitchen cooker/sink and fridge.  As we are currently working the 9-5 any viewing had to happen either at weekends, with 2 bored children in tow, or after work so this was a juggle. It took several months to get around to viewing all the vans but the final decision was very easy.  The first option was full of rust and would need a bit of work to get it through an MOT, the second option would need a pop top to be fitted and the last option…well he is sitting on our driveway now.

Ron the Campervan (or Purple Ronnie)

Tell us about yourselves

I'm Steve, 40+ years old, married to Emily, and a father to two crazy kids C (aged 10) & M (aged 5). I'm the writer of this blog but my family will feature in a lot of the adventures. They are the good looking ones.
Like many of you we work the 9 to 5 but dream of something different, something less mundane, a life less ordinary.

Photo from our recent trip to Iceland

This is our first blog?

Why? Because I have something I need to write about, something I need to offload, because I think my life is interesting enough that others will want to read about it or because it's the done thing and it will make me millions of pounds and fund my future life of adventure. There are many reasons why I have decided to write a blog in 2019 and I'm not sure I mind if no one reads it.