WAITAKERE RANGES, New Zealand. It was 09:00 am and the fresh New Zealand morning air started to piss me off. With hands in my pockets, my mind still drowsy, I watched the scene unfolding in the lush greenery in front of me. „Van Life“, I thought, mentally shaking my head, „definitely an experience.“
I looked over to my friend Moises. He looked like I felt: On the verge to inner collapse and ready to leave this shit show right there. Only thing was, that we couldn’t. Because right now our Honda station wagon was being towed out of the bush by a digger, driven by the local park ranger, and a tractor, driven by the local golf course manager.
Moises noticed my gaze. His dead eyes became alive again and a smirk formed on his face. „Van Life.“, he shouted under the noise of the groaning engines. His voice filled with irony. I couldn’t help but to grin in response, too. „Van Life.“, I shouted back, a feeling of amusement stirring inside of me.
„Van Life“. In eleven days, those two words had taken on an entirely different meaning for me. It had been a ride through the whole landscape of emotions. The final destination: One I didn’t expect.
It all started two weeks earlier in Wellington. I was traveling the North Island the way I usually do: backpack and bunkbeds. So it was in the hostel’s kitchen where I bumped into Moises and his friend. I instantly liked those two. Since Moises was from Mexico and his friend from Spain, I saw an opportunity to practice my Spanish. I was actually surprised when Moises responded to my broken Spanish with flawless German.
During our conversation, Moises told me that he was borrowing his friend’s car for an extended period of time. Now he was looking for a travel buddy to split costs while exploring the North Island’s highlights. Since I was headed into the same direction, it took me just a few seconds to say: „Let’s do this!“.
I cancelled all my bookings, and three days later, Moises and I hit the highway to Whanganui.
It was the first time experiencing Van Life for both of us. We had an inflatable mattress in the back on which we threw all our stuff while driving. It looked like a mess, but we didn’t care. We were too busy soaking in the vibe of New Zealand while singing off-key to American 60’s songs and Spanish pop tunes. We felt free and full of anticipation.
However, the reality of the lifestyle hit us right on the first day.
ABOVE: A typical scenic view of New Zealand captured along the road. This one was shot somewhere on the Coromandel Peninsula.
LEFT: A typical scenic view of New Zealand captured along the road. This one was shot somewhere on the Coromandel Peninsula.
Winter was approaching. So after a rainy day of sightseeing, we found ourselves in the spot to stay overnight: a dubious parking lot somewhere in New Plymouth. It all seemed less romantic than we envisioned. Around 06:00 pm, Moises and I were sitting in the pitch-black cockpit, having our dinner for the evening.
„Well, guess that’s Van Life.“, I said into the dark, „Shady parking lots and crackers with hummus.“. Moises giggled. In the corner of my eye, I could see his silhouette leaning back. Then he said with a long sigh, „Ahhhh Van Life.“ He couldn’t have expressed more fake enjoyment. We burst into laughter.
It would become our running gag every time we encountered the reality of Van Life. We used it a lot.
For example, in Taupo, when we visited the supposedly „coolest“ McDonalds in the world. We didn’t care about the fact that they had a real plane in their backyard; our sole interest lay in their Wi-Fi and electricity. Both had become rare commodities. As we wanted to leave, after an especially weird encounter with a vegan homeless person, the car’s battery died. We were stranded in the parking lot of the „coolest“ McDonalds in the world. „Van Life.“
Another time, we returned from a hike in the Whanganui National Park and discovered a praying mantis on the car’s dashboard. Being a wildlife fanatic, I examined it closely, despite Moises warning me not to. Needless to say, the mantis jumped on me and then disappeared into the catacombs of our van. We never saw it again. It must have been somewhere there, along with the stick insect and the yellow spider that I had in my face one night. „Van Life.“
One more outstanding example took place in Rotorura. My mood was already bad that day because the barber had cut off one inch of my hair instead of one centimeter—an unsolicited lesson in US metric systems that I now faced every time I looked into the mirror. On top of that, it had been raining for days. Moises and I had attempted to treat ourselves with a paid campground, but it was flooded.
So while making the bed in the dark once again, I stood ankle-deep in the mud, getting soaked in the pouring rain. If that wasn’t humbling enough, I then had to sleep in my wet, muddy jeans because, well, the other pair of jeans got muddy too.
I remember vividly lying in my sleeping bag, staring at the ceiling of the car. „This is just on inch away from being homeless.“, I thought. „Van Life“.
RIGHT: The original itinerary we planned in Wellington. Due to heavy rain, we traveled at a fast pace. This allowed us to also explore the Coromandel Peninsula, which became the highlight of the trip.
ABOVE: The original itinerary we planned in Wellington. Due to heavy rain, we traveled at a fast pace. This allowed us to also explore the Coromandel Peninsula, which became the highlight of the trip.
Admittedly, before this trip, my ideas about Van Life mainly stemmed from YouTube videos and Instagram. Perhaps it had been a bit naive to think that those fancy videos had any resemblance with reality. After all, all you see on those platforms are couples driving through picturesque landscapes in their DIY campers, wearing constant smiles in every scene.
Of course, they won’t show you that they didn’t shower for days, wore the same clothes every day, and had crackers with hummus for the 100th time. I suppose those aspects simply don’t make great content for these platforms. Or maybe it was just the fact that we traveled on a budget. Like every full-time traveler does.
However, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything because the time with Moises was a blast. In him, I found a friend for life.
I treasure our car karaoke sessions, our deep conversations, and our daily morning coffees in different hipster cafes. It was reassuring to know that he perceived the lifestyle the same way I did. It reaffirmed that my mind wasn’t distorting the experience. Together, we enjoyed the great times and pushed through the bad ones, though with grinding teeth and humor.
And this journey also taught me something else: I don’t like Van Life. It simply doesn’t align with my preferred style of travel.
I realized this when we crashed our car in the Waitakere Ranges on the last day of our trip.
ABOVE: New Chums Beach. My favorite spot of the road trip. The lookout is only accessible by overcoming various challenges – stones at high tide, slippery climbs, and the absence of marked tracks.
Moises and I had arrived in Auckland in the early evening. All of the paid campgrounds were already closed, so we used our go-to camping app to find a spot for the night. A free campground in the remote parts of Western Auckland looked promising.
It took us some time to get to the location. Finally, after driving down a narrow gravel road, we reached our destination and… nothing. The gravel road just ended in front of a vast field of grass. We realized that we had entered a golf course. Obviously, the app hadn’t been updated for some time. We decided to turn around.
Moises attempted to drive back in reverse, but since it was too dark and the road to narrow, we had to stop. „Hmm, why don’t you turn on the grass field?“, I suggested. A statement I now utterly regret.
Moises drove on the grass field and attempted the turn. However, due to days of rain, the grass was too soft, so the tires had no grip. And this meant, we were stuck in the mud.
We tried multiple times to get out of the situation, driving forwards and backwards, but nothing helped. On the contrary, since we were on a slight slope, each attempt to move the car only caused us to slide down a little bit more. Finally, we crashed into the bush.
„We have to get a tow truck,“ Moises said after we realized the severity of our situation. „Agreed,“ I replied, checking my phone: 14% battery and no reception whatsoever. We were screwed.
Feeling completely lost, we walked around the golf course for an hour or so, hoping to find reception with the remaining battery. Luckily, a local passerby noticed our predicament from afar and drove to the local park ranger’s station to contact him. Another hour passed until he returned and informed us that the ranger wouldn’t come until the next morning. So, we were left with no choice but to spend the night in our crashed car.
Plenty of time to contemplate about the nature of Van Life.
RIGHT: Cathedral Cove on the Coromandel Peninsula. One of the North Island’s main attractions, which we enjoyed all to ourselves. Of course, we missed the „TRACK IS CLOSED“ signs.
ABOVE: Cathedral Cove on the Coromandel Peninsula. One of the North Island’s main attractions, which we enjoyed all to ourselves. Of course, we missed the „TRACK IS CLOSED“ signs.
The next morning, the park ranger arrived, and together with the local golf course manager, who had joined to help, they towed us out. Unfortunately, the story didn’t end there:
After a while of ear-deafening noise, our car started to stir in the greenery. Slowly, our two helpers pulled it out, leaving lines of mud in the grass. Once the car had enough distance from the bushes, I went around to check for damage.
I noticed Moises looking over again, worry in his eyes. I checked the quarter panel, then signaled a thumbs-up. „No damage,“ I shouted over. Moises seemed relieved.
After the car was securely pulled onto the gravel road by our two helpers, we untangled the ropes and tried to start the engine. The battery was dead. Once again. Of course. I didn’t bother getting upset. I had passed a certain threshold of frustration and was now just relieved that our car didn’t take any damage. Luckily, the park ranger had a jump start kit.
With one press of a button and me starting the ignition, our motor roared to life once again. Relief washed over me. I dragged myself out of the cockpit, a tired smile on my face. Then something happened that I will never forget in my life. My smile froze in an instant.
So far, the golf course manager had positioned himself with his tractor on our rear to pull us out. He still stood there with running engine and his pet dog on his lap when I stepped out of the car. Seemingly waiting if now finally everything was okay.
He must have been too focussed petting his dog, because instead of reversing to leave the spot, I could see him driving forwards. The scene appeared to me in slow-motion: Slowly but steadily he drove forwards and forwards. Then, with a loud smack, he crashed into our rear. For no good reason.
„Sorry“, he mumbled and reversed. Revealing the damage on our car. The entire rear door was wrecked. I stood there in shock, unable to believe that that just happened.
„Well, a tow truck would have cost you a couple of hundred dollars as well.“, I heard the golf course manager saying from behind me. Now, writing this later, I am amazed at how calm I remained. „It’s okay.“ I said, numbly. I saw Moises standing a few meters away. He staid cool too, but it was clear from his expression that his world had just collapsed. After all, it was his friend’s car.
We thanked our rescuers and got into our now-wrecked car, me driving. I just wanted to get away from that place. And from this lifestyle. „Where do we go now?“ Moises asked me, completely exhausted. „I need a coffee.“, I said. „That sounds good to me.“, he replied.
„Van Life.“
