Everything is harder, so it makes it all more precious.
WE WERE LIVING IN FRANCE in an apartment. My boyfriend, Simon, and I both worked in restaurants. Simon was miserable and I was even more miserable. We had tough bosses and we worked so hard. The status of chefs in France . . . it’s not about being creative. It’s very military—you need to be obedient. We were out of creativity and out of energy. Simon always wanted to travel and I needed a change. Simon asked, and I said, “Let’s do it.”
The van is my home. We built it from scratch. Every scrape, every detail has a history and a fun story. I’ve had many apartments, but this one is a live creature. He’s a character. He’s a person. He’s a pain in the ass.
You have to adapt. You have to change everything you thought you knew before. Everything is harder, so it makes it all more precious. Say, to have a shower—it’s not a daily thing. To cook a meal, it takes more time and more energy. I think it’s what I like the most.
My chef job was more physically intense than van life, but there’s more psychological exhaustion to living in a van and traveling full-time with someone. In the beginning, we felt as if we had to move fast so we could see more every day. It’s taken a while to find the right rhythm. It’s still something we struggle with. We’ve done one month per country, but we have twenty-eight countries still to see.
We camp on public and private land—wherever there is no one. Once we find a camp spot, the rest is about food. It’s our principal hobby. When we were in commercial kitchens and cooking school, it was all about perfection and fancy recipes. But due to bad experiences in restaurants, I wanted to stop cooking. Van life was all about simplifying. In the end, because we had time and we were more relaxed, we started to embrace being creative again. We started to eat simply. We love spices. We became vegetarians without knowing it.
Our basics are flour, eggs, sugar, vinegar, and salt. We always have these things. They are inexpensive and can be found everywhere. Otherwise, fresh veggies and oil. Pasta, bread, pancakes . . . they are simple but you can make so many things with them.
To bake bread we put a tiny pot in a bigger pot. You put a bit of steam in the big pot. You cook the bread in the tiny pot. The heat flows in the gap between the two. It works so well. It looks like a cake but tastes like a French baguette.
In the van, it is best to have the simplest tools. I like that there are limits, but it’s up to my mind to figure it out. Maybe one day I may find the limit and be bored, but not today.
CÉCILE BERTRAND
Your wandering is your own—be it for a weekend, a year, or the foreseeable future yawning into the horizon. The following questions will help you form a sense of where you’ve been, where you’re going, and how to get there with intention.
WHAT ROAD HAS BROUGHT YOU HERE? Why do you want to travel? Perhaps you have a pent-up curiosity, or a long-ago road trip planted the seed. Take the time to reflect on where you are in your life and why you’re in need of motion.
WHERE DO YOU WANT TO GO? This is the stuff of dreams. The allure of mobile travel is the flexibility of choice. You could likely explore every corner of your country and have appetite for more. Or you could also invest in a plane ticket to New Zealand, fly thousands of miles, and purchase a minivan upon arrival. The beauty is that it’s up to you.
WHO INSPIRES YOU? The people who have gone before us shape our travels. There are hundreds of storytellers out there sharing their routes, vehicles, and methods. Use their stories as your launchpad. You’ll find a generous handful within these pages.
HOW LONG WILL YOUR TRIP BE? The answer may be a combination of how much time you have and how much time you want. There are so many factors to dictate the length of your travels: Will you be hitting a pause button on your career? Are you building a new life in motion? Do you fantasize about better weekends spent in the outdoors?
HOW MUCH PHYSICAL LIVING SPACE DO YOU NEED? How much do you want? Our circles are constantly widening and contracting. Think about your sleep and living space, who will fill it, and what mobile home may accommodate it.
WHAT ARE YOU PASSIONATE ABOUT? It is perhaps too simple to ask what brings you joy. Passion is a more complex feeling: it’s a driver. If you’re carving space in your life, fill it with what moves you forward.
WHO WILL YOU TAKE WITH YOU? Not every excursion is a solo adventure. If you’re planning with a partner or a family, ask them these questions, too. And if you have a dog, cat, or other pet, they may guide you as well.
WHAT FEELS LIKE HOME? Home follows you everywhere; some might say it’s within you. Consider whether that’s a comfort. When you’re packing and planning, gather up home and inject it into your possessions and practices.
WILL THE ROAD BRING YOU BACK HERE? There are two sides to this coin. Will you return, physically, to the origin of your travels? Or are you in search of some new place? And while we’re constantly growing and changing, is there a chance wandering will take you back to the same place, psychically, that you are now? What does it take to move forward?
WHAT IS STOPPING YOU? Here you are. If your nature has taken you right up to the invisible line between contemplation and decision, what keeps your toes on the line? Imagine what might happen if you stepped over.
