I sit at this yard, passing time away. Nothing achieved, yet the time has moved on. I feel that I need to achieve something great, yet having a simple life is what I seek. Someone said I'm amazing; that there is something different about me. And indeed there is. Not many people live in a van. Not many women live in a van. And not many do it alone. And still this is how I find myself, alone with nowhere to go. Which is a lie, because I have everywhere to go. I suppose it all depends on wether I want to go or not, or sit here discontent.
Saturday, 11 June 2016
Friday, 10 June 2016
So here I am...
Back in London, sat at my mother's desk. Writing this post purely so I can stop feeling guilty about not writing it.
So much has happened since I've last written here. I've been living in the van now for 15 months. I've been half way around the country, and we even went to Europe. We caught on fire. We are officially thieves. We're vegan now, we being Steve and I, Steve being the stove. I have a stove. I'm more spiritual. Less aggressive. Still sad. Adventuring wherever the day takes me. Have van; will travel. Personal motto. I've been lied to and deceived. Replaced and forgotten. Revered and worshiped. Those were good times. I've played games a plenty. Eaten glorious food and sat around many a fire. I've drank more than usual, yet stopped smoking for 8 months. I'm learning the ocarina now, and I walk around in robes. Less washing. Result. Bored of part-time boyfriends, looking for someone to tolerate on a semi-permanent basis. Currently addicted to tomatoes. Still want a castle, a tree house and to live in the mountains. Or my own mountain. My ears don't like mountains. I drove through the Pyrenees. Amazing, looked like a packet of Toblerone. I can't eat them anymore. They've got sugar and cow juice in it. Still scared of cows, and I've thoroughly established I'm scared of bats too. Met a taxidermist. That was weird. Seeing a tiny dead bad did not help. Through away a metric fuckton of possessions and feeling good for it. Still making natural skin cream. Still insane, not rich enough to be eccentric. Song of the week: Satie - Gnossienne 3.
Thursday, 26 March 2015
And now back to the original adventure.
I arrive at what was a quaint stone cottage surrounded by my favourite tree; the Scottish Pine. After getting out of the car to manually open the gate, I drive up to the house. Before me stands a tall, slim, dishevelled old man. He's wearing a lumber jack shirt, some form of brown trousers and his hair was that of a mad scientist.
He introduced himself as Tom, which was a relief, as I convinced myself I was lost. He invites me in, and I receive the downstairs-only version of the tour. Everything was old. Not old-fashioned old, it-needs-replacing-old. Thankfully, there was no TV. There was, however, a museum-worthy desktop PC in the corner; that amazingly, connected to the internet. This is one occasion where the adage 'they don't make em' like they used to', is not a good thing.
It was rather late by the time I arrived, so thoughtfully he'd prepared dinner. Well, I for one would not call that dinner. The offering was over-boiled potatoes (which disintegrated on contact), a pile of leaves and some cheese. During 'dinner' he informed me that he grew the potatoes and leaves himself, I assume for me to comment that they were lovely and fresh. All I was hoping for was a spoon, to eat my now mash potato. By now I was tired, and not really paying attention to him, until something terrible happened. He licked his fingers. And then I noticed how unbelievably dirty his nails were. They were black, confirming he had literally dug up the potatoes and leaves earlier that evening. Whilst I was coping with that information, he licked his fingers again. And then I was done eating. After a brief recovery period he bought out a teapot with stuff floating in it and a pair of chopsticks. Suspiciously I drank it, after he explained it was Twinnings loose tea. I then excused myself from the table and disappeared to the car to devour my Terry's Chocolate Orange.
After sleeping in a bed again, I awoke refreshed. So much so, I'd forgotten to mentally prepare myself for breakfast. I tried to not die inside when he presented me with a bowl of muesli, some ultra-fresh raspberries and a jug of water. There was no milk, and when I requested some, he complained, so I picked up the jug of water. It's all about new experiences, I remind myself, and I sat up ready to face the day.
The task of said day was to gather some trees from his woodland. He has been cutting down non-native trees so that the delightful Scottish Pine can thrive. I hope you noticed the sarcasm. Realising he'd left his winch-a-ma-bob at a neighbouring property, I opted to wait in the woodland. Mistake number one. There I was, standing there, minding my own business, when by perchance I glanced down towards my feet. They were covered in huge fucking ants. So fucking huge, that that evening I had to Google them to make sure they were real. There were literally hundreds of them on me, some as high as my knee. Cue deranged and slightly hysterical ant removal techniques. Lesson one: keep moving. Failing that, stand on a chair. And yes, oddly enough there was a chair in the middle of nowhere.
When he finally returned, and after he'd mocked me for my fear of ants, we began winching trees he'd cut down earlier. On this day I learnt how to not winch a tree, how not to tie up a tree and where to not stand when someone is winching a tree. Winching and I did not get along. Trees can jump surprisingly far when being forced to move. I was unprepared. This appears to be a common theme.
On the way back he spotted some edible berries. I ate loads of the little bugger. I was excited to finally have some sugar after this mornings 'breakfast'. Even if it was from random floor-based berries. We returned to the house. After another teapot vs chopsticks experience, he asked me to hoover. Remember this is WOOFING - Worldwide Opportunities for Organic Farming, or something like that. You work in exchange for accommodation and 'food' apparently. Happy(ish) to oblige, I went in search of the hoover. I don't know why I was optimistic about this. It was the slowest, oldest most derelict hoover you'd ever seen. If I trapped a thousand ants in a carrier bag, they'd make a better hoover. There was neither a brush head or extension hose. It was a great experience.
Sadly, yet not surprisingly, dinner was a repeat of yesterday, except for the welcomed addition of bread. The licking started sooner tonight, as he had butter on his fingers early on. This man licks everything. Not only his fingers, but also the cutlery and his flipping plate. Yes, a grown-ass man licked his plate at the table. Just because you live in bush, doesn't mean you can eat like monkey. KMT. Thankfully, I did the washing up and bleached the life out of that shit. Incidentally, there wasn't hot water, so one had to wait for the stove to boil. That's right, the stove. Plug-in kettles apparently weren't invented the last time he went Argos. There was also no oven or washing machine. Which perhaps answers the question, as to why he was wearing the same clothes the entire time I was there. He did, however, have an awesome sink. I don't normally comment on sinks, but there wasn't exactly much else to look at.
Turns out my mad scientist notion was correct, as he was a chemistry teacher many (many) moons ago. I had previously found some rocks so went off to retrieve them from the boot. It was at this time I realised I'd run out of sweets and chocolate.
Looking somewhat miserable on my return, he commented that I was addicted to sugar. Pfffft, you can't be addicted to sugar, I retorted. Somewhat flippantly (as by now I was annoyed), he suggested I search online. Turns out he was right. Did you know you can be addicted to sugar? I certainly didn't.
But let us return to the rocks. Remember, the ones I found on a beach somewhere. You'll never guess what he did. Yep, he licked them. And I am not joking.
But let us return to the rocks. Remember, the ones I found on a beach somewhere. You'll never guess what he did. Yep, he licked them. And I am not joking.
Thursday, 19 March 2015
My first night alone in the van...
We interrupt our lack-of-regular blog posts to bring you this update of my first night alone in the van.
Left my sister's house to spend the night alone. Time to spread my wings a bit an be independent from the lure of central heating.
After finding a country lane 2 miles away, I settled into a quiet spot opposite a 'village green'. Emphasis on that as I'm still within the M25.
At 21:45 I decided to get into bed and I fall asleep rather quickly. At 22:05 I heard a car pulling up. After so many days outside my parents, I thought it was my mother again, but very quickly remembered where I was and woke up.
Still laying in my bed, clutching my kosh, I heard one of them walking past the van, mumbling something about 'there's a big van here', and then he tried to open the doors. By this point I was well and truly shitting myself. Once he'd moved a bit, I crept up to the windscreen and attempted to see what was going on. Their car was facing me and I was blinded by their headlights. They stayed there for another few minutes, and then left.
Still scared and rather annoyed I now had to pack away and prepare for driving back to my sister's house.
And that is my first experience of life living in a van.
Left my sister's house to spend the night alone. Time to spread my wings a bit an be independent from the lure of central heating.
After finding a country lane 2 miles away, I settled into a quiet spot opposite a 'village green'. Emphasis on that as I'm still within the M25.
At 21:45 I decided to get into bed and I fall asleep rather quickly. At 22:05 I heard a car pulling up. After so many days outside my parents, I thought it was my mother again, but very quickly remembered where I was and woke up.
Still laying in my bed, clutching my kosh, I heard one of them walking past the van, mumbling something about 'there's a big van here', and then he tried to open the doors. By this point I was well and truly shitting myself. Once he'd moved a bit, I crept up to the windscreen and attempted to see what was going on. Their car was facing me and I was blinded by their headlights. They stayed there for another few minutes, and then left.
Still scared and rather annoyed I now had to pack away and prepare for driving back to my sister's house.
And that is my first experience of life living in a van.
Thursday, 12 March 2015
Life in a Converted Transit Van - Part 1
The first rule of living in a van. Do not step in a bag of your own shit.
I bought a Suncamp Lulu toilet, I was rather impressed by it. It works, is sturdy and most importantly, fits under my chair. A tip I learn elsewhere - put cat littler in the bottom. Helps to soak up any accidents. I put a bag into the toilet, then some news paper. Then I do my business and put it in the bin. We are no longer leaving it outside for 5 minutes whilst we find shoes. We will now walk in the cold to ensure no more accidental stepping. I was unprepared for the amount of poo that leaves me on a regular basis. I wish I was a rabbit.
What does this have to do with life on the van. Everything, if like you you won't have a flushable toilet. Or a light switch. Or a tap. Thankfully, I have a kettle.
I moved into the van on the 1st March. And yes, I know I haven't even written about the conversion. I've decided this is a backwards blog, and you'll just have to keep up.
Five things I can't live without on my van:
Candles [ambiance, heat and light all for 4 pence an hour]
Handwash/antibacterial gel [everything is so dirty]
Dressing Gown [I'm convinced it just makes me feel warmer looking at it]
Slippers [can't have a house without slippers]
Kettle [no explanation required]
Obviously I could say some sensible things like a woodburning stove, hot water, 230v sockets and such other expensive things, but alas, I don't have them.
I will be buying a stove from the Fireweaver. He comes highly recommended from hippy folk and hand makes the stoves and he fits them. If he would just move his entire life closer to London, I'd appreciate it. I'm looking forward to getting one in the winter - it'll be lovely and warm, free hot water and free fuel as long as I can be bothered to chop it.
How on earth, I, a Londoner has decided to live in a van, I'll never know. But I do, most people think I'm mad, but such is life.
I've managed 12 nights, which is 11 more than anyone thought I'd last!
I bought a Suncamp Lulu toilet, I was rather impressed by it. It works, is sturdy and most importantly, fits under my chair. A tip I learn elsewhere - put cat littler in the bottom. Helps to soak up any accidents. I put a bag into the toilet, then some news paper. Then I do my business and put it in the bin. We are no longer leaving it outside for 5 minutes whilst we find shoes. We will now walk in the cold to ensure no more accidental stepping. I was unprepared for the amount of poo that leaves me on a regular basis. I wish I was a rabbit.
What does this have to do with life on the van. Everything, if like you you won't have a flushable toilet. Or a light switch. Or a tap. Thankfully, I have a kettle.
I moved into the van on the 1st March. And yes, I know I haven't even written about the conversion. I've decided this is a backwards blog, and you'll just have to keep up.
Five things I can't live without on my van:
Candles [ambiance, heat and light all for 4 pence an hour]
Handwash/antibacterial gel [everything is so dirty]
Dressing Gown [I'm convinced it just makes me feel warmer looking at it]
Slippers [can't have a house without slippers]
Kettle [no explanation required]
Obviously I could say some sensible things like a woodburning stove, hot water, 230v sockets and such other expensive things, but alas, I don't have them.
I will be buying a stove from the Fireweaver. He comes highly recommended from hippy folk and hand makes the stoves and he fits them. If he would just move his entire life closer to London, I'd appreciate it. I'm looking forward to getting one in the winter - it'll be lovely and warm, free hot water and free fuel as long as I can be bothered to chop it.
How on earth, I, a Londoner has decided to live in a van, I'll never know. But I do, most people think I'm mad, but such is life.
I've managed 12 nights, which is 11 more than anyone thought I'd last!
Wednesday, 11 February 2015
Homemade washing powder for lazy people
I developed a reaction to washing powder so needed to make my own. I'm lazy and I did it. You can do it. This much lasted me for a month [thank god, because I'd never make it every week].
Recipe first, descriptive words later.
Ingredients:
500g Borax [not substitute] [£2.30]
400g Soda Crystals [40p]
100g Bicarbonate of Soda [30p]
100g Soap Flakes [25p]
40 drops of essential oils - I use 20 orange, 20 lemon [£?]
Directions:
Measure all of the ingredients.
Put into a bowl.
Mix it.
Put into a container
Total cost: £3.25 [15p a wash]
Use 50g per wash. Weight a portion out, then make a mark on a plastic cup. I know, it doesn't seem 'enough', but it works - even on a quick wash. But no, it will not clean things that are stained to shit. You'll need to break out the Vanish, until I figure it out.
It's really not difficult. I got the funnels at the 99p store. Borax and essential oils from eBay. Bicarb, soda crystals and soap flakes from Wilkinsons, although they don't seem to sell the flakes any more. You can always grater a bar of plain soap, but that is pushing it a bit. I've done it before; more annoying that cheese, but better than carrots.
When using the funnel, enlist the help of a wooden spoon for persuasion.
For my container, I used an innocent juice bottle and it holds everything nicely, easy to carry, open and it came with free juice.
And that is how I saved my skin, prevented an operation, saved money and felt domesticated - all for £3.25.
Recipe first, descriptive words later.
Ingredients:
500g Borax [not substitute] [£2.30]
400g Soda Crystals [40p]
100g Bicarbonate of Soda [30p]
100g Soap Flakes [25p]
40 drops of essential oils - I use 20 orange, 20 lemon [£?]
Directions:
Measure all of the ingredients.
Put into a bowl.
Mix it.
Put into a container
Total cost: £3.25 [15p a wash]
Use 50g per wash. Weight a portion out, then make a mark on a plastic cup. I know, it doesn't seem 'enough', but it works - even on a quick wash. But no, it will not clean things that are stained to shit. You'll need to break out the Vanish, until I figure it out.
It's really not difficult. I got the funnels at the 99p store. Borax and essential oils from eBay. Bicarb, soda crystals and soap flakes from Wilkinsons, although they don't seem to sell the flakes any more. You can always grater a bar of plain soap, but that is pushing it a bit. I've done it before; more annoying that cheese, but better than carrots.
When using the funnel, enlist the help of a wooden spoon for persuasion.
For my container, I used an innocent juice bottle and it holds everything nicely, easy to carry, open and it came with free juice.
And that is how I saved my skin, prevented an operation, saved money and felt domesticated - all for £3.25.
Wednesday, 4 February 2015
The update on life since buying a van.
I've been busy.
Sawing, drilling, cutting, sticking, stuffing.
I've almost finished insulating 3/4 of the van. I can't believe it is taking so long.
Just cleaning him was a mission into itself. Now I'm struggling to put the ply on the walls. Day after day of working. It's been cold and I've been miserable. And today my mum said she will bless the van. And now I have to be seen as ungrateful if I don't let her pray on it. If she wants to go outside and pray, that's her business, but why do I have to stand there and listen to it.
Today I built a box to cover the wheel arch. I realise that according to you, I've only just bought a van, so what does a wheel arch have to do with anything. A lot. And it is a nightmare. The box worked, but then the ply that we cut to fit said boxes, doesn't fit when the ply is pulled in. So now I'm going to have to baton it. I've never sawn so much wood in my life. Sawing is hard, my arm hurts, actually my hand hurts. I'm very proud of my batons, even I couldn't pull them off the walls - and I tried. One things for sure, when I get around to building the cupboards, they will be well supported.
I sold my favourite cup and saucer set yesterday - Denby Lucerne - and frankly I'm rather sad about this. I hope that the new owner loves it as much as I do. I wanted to send an eBay message, but though that might be a bit weird. Hey, those cups you just bought, be nice to them.
I've been off all week working on the van. I'm going to Bath/Bristol over the weekend to visit a friend, who is very excited about seeing the van; so I though it best that there's more to show that a white box. Let's hope he likes it. See you soon MM!
Sawing, drilling, cutting, sticking, stuffing.
I've almost finished insulating 3/4 of the van. I can't believe it is taking so long.
Just cleaning him was a mission into itself. Now I'm struggling to put the ply on the walls. Day after day of working. It's been cold and I've been miserable. And today my mum said she will bless the van. And now I have to be seen as ungrateful if I don't let her pray on it. If she wants to go outside and pray, that's her business, but why do I have to stand there and listen to it.
Today I built a box to cover the wheel arch. I realise that according to you, I've only just bought a van, so what does a wheel arch have to do with anything. A lot. And it is a nightmare. The box worked, but then the ply that we cut to fit said boxes, doesn't fit when the ply is pulled in. So now I'm going to have to baton it. I've never sawn so much wood in my life. Sawing is hard, my arm hurts, actually my hand hurts. I'm very proud of my batons, even I couldn't pull them off the walls - and I tried. One things for sure, when I get around to building the cupboards, they will be well supported.
I sold my favourite cup and saucer set yesterday - Denby Lucerne - and frankly I'm rather sad about this. I hope that the new owner loves it as much as I do. I wanted to send an eBay message, but though that might be a bit weird. Hey, those cups you just bought, be nice to them.
I've been off all week working on the van. I'm going to Bath/Bristol over the weekend to visit a friend, who is very excited about seeing the van; so I though it best that there's more to show that a white box. Let's hope he likes it. See you soon MM!
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