WORK-LIFE-DRIVE BALANCE

For those of you looking to live the van life, you are probably looking for the freedom and ease a vessel such as a camper van can grant you. But you will also find self-resilience along the way. I dove into the deep end and discovered this after buying a 1987 dove blue Westfalia - now “The Blue Kahuna” - to live, work, and drive during my time in Vancouver.

The decision toward van life was easy. The lifestyle itself was educational! I worked in South Vancouver doing some amazing things at a small startup while living in a 500 square foot downtown studio apartment. I loved the 9-5 work, eat, sleep, repeat routine, until one weekend I visited friends on the island and met a girl. I spent almost a year transiting to the ferry for weekend getaways, exploring with her, and enjoying life with friends for the first time in a while.

When she finished her schooling to be an EA, we looked at our semi long distance relationship and my career in vancouver. I realized that what I got out of my 500sf studio, I could get out of a 120sf campervan. And when I started looking, the Westfalia was the only choice for me. Factory-ready campervan with a full kitchenette and closet space. Funky, rugged character… and the mechanical reliance of a soap box derby racer.

The Reality Check

The first few weeks in the van were a honeymoon phase. I’d take The Blue Kahuna down to the beach in the evenings, hang out with buddies, watch the sun dip below the horizon, and feel like I had cracked the code to freedom. But the day-to-day reality of van life eventually set in.

Thankfully, I had one major advantage - I didn’t have to hunt for parking every night. Most of the time, I parked at the wood yard, where I could plug into power and not worry about getting the dreaded late-night knock on the window. This also meant I could run an electric space heater during the winter, making those cold months a lot more bearable.

Still, the Westy had its quirks. The condensation battle was real, and even with heat, I learned quickly that good insulation and air circulation were the difference between waking up comfortable or damp and miserable.

-Then there was the battle with the elements. Winter in a Westfalia is an initiation ritual. I learned to layer up, keep my sleeping bag rated for Arctic expeditions, and, most importantly, crack a window at night to avoid waking up in a condensation-filled icebox.

Work and Wrenches

Having my home also be my vehicle came with an interesting trade-off, I was constantly working on it. Not just to keep it running but to make it more livable. Most evenings after work, I found myself tinkering - fixing, upgrading, and optimizing my tiny space. Whether it was figuring out better storage solutions, making minor mechanical repairs, or just making the space feel more like home, there was always something to do.

Despite the challenges, van life gave me something my 500-square-foot apartment never could - a sense of ownership over my space in a way I had never felt before. Every adjustment, every fix, and every little upgrade made life better in a way I could see and feel daily. And even on the tough days, I knew this little blue van had set me on a path toward something bigger - toward adventure, resilience, and a life less ordinary.

Home, Anywhere

One of the most unexpected joys of van life was the feeling of home - wherever I parked. Everything I needed was neatly packed away in the cabinets, within arm’s reach. Cooking, sleeping, working on projects - it all happened in this compact, well-loved space. Aside from the occasional mechanical hiccups, I felt prepared for anything.

That sense of self-sufficiency changed the way I saw my surroundings. I wasn’t tied to a single address or routine anymore. My home could be a quiet wood yard one night and a beachside overlook the next. As time went on, I realized I didn’t need the city’s hustle and bustle anymore. The van had given me the freedom to move, and eventually, that freedom led me to Vancouver Island full-time - where adventure, connection, and a slower, more intentional way of living were waiting for me.