I was able to travel through New Zealand thanks to my remote work.
It was difficult to find a work life balance when I was eating, sleeping, and working in the same place.
I grew up in New Zealand and appreciated domestic travel during the coronaviruses epidemic.
After staying in a shared flat during New Zealand's nationwide Pandemic lockdowns, I moved into my Mazda MPV campervan in March 2022.
The research agency where I worked had a policy that allowed employees to choose where they worked.
I made the van that I had owned for a year into my new workspace because I wanted to live an outdoorsy lifestyle on the road.
I was going to go to the South Island and hike in national parks like Nelson Lakes and Kahurangi.
My new life wasn't all bliss.
I moved back into the flat with my roommates after two months and promised to reserve the van life for short weekends. The things that disappointed me the most were listed.
I saw a dreamy van-life aesthetic on social media, but the inside of my vehicle didn't look like that.
When you search for "van life" on social media, you'll find nice interiors and clean couches.
I decorated my camper with a tan-and-teal color scheme and a set of rose-gold utensils, which were inspired by the photos.
My van seemed to have been turned upside down after a few days of travel.
Any slight organization went out the window because I was sleeping, eating, and working in the same room. The inside of my van was covered in sand, dust, and damp towels.
The van was a terrible place to work.
It was difficult to transform my bed into a couch and table. I had to take everything out of my van, play a game, and put the bed and mattress into a couch shape.
The setup required me to hunch over my keyboard even if I had invested all of my energy into forming this new configuration. I didn't go to the trouble of reorganizing the furniture.
When I was working from my van, I sat on my bed with my laptop on top of the cushions. I mostly worked in cafés.
It wasn't always a good idea to be professional in a van.
There was no easy way to clock a clear-cut eight-hour workday.
I would fit in a few hours from my van and drive an hour or two to find a cafe. I would usually finish any remaining tasks in my van.
Many of the work locations were not glamorous.
I parked the meetings on the side of the road and hid the laundry next to me. I parked my laptop on the armrest while I was in the driver's seat.
My route was dictated by the reception on my phone and the internet.
When I embarked on my remote-work odyssey, I was free and happy. I thought I could park next to the beach and use my mobile device.
I realized I was at a disadvantage just days into the trip.
I would arrive at a destination only to discover that I was in a dead zone. I had to drive until I could get a few bars of reception, which were far away from any scenic views.
It felt like a second job to keep my device charged. Between monitoring battery levels on my laptop, phone, e-reader, camera, and power bank, I felt like I was constantly calculating how much work I could do.
When the batteries in my van ran low, I either had to drive for a while or find a place to sit and wait for the batteries to charge.
There were very few options for entertainment.
I read a lot in my free time because battery power was so hot. Van life was very quiet.
The sun set around 6 pm when I was away. I usually found a campsite before 5 p.m., read for a few hours, and went to bed by 8 p.m.
Options were limited when it rained. There was no place to dry my clothes.
I would go on long drives when it was raining so I could crank up the heat and host a show.
There wasn't much camaraderie on campgrounds.
I thought the campgrounds would be full of free-spirited travelers who swapped smiles and van-life tips.
They were full of travelers who were interested in keeping to themselves.
I didn't save as much as I anticipated.
I thought having my expenses all in one place would be cheaper. The thing was not.
I stayed at campgrounds during the week because I didn't want to go very long without a shower and I didn't want to pay a lot of money. A full tank of gas costs about $200 New Zealand dollars.
I spent almost 800 dollars on gas and accommodations in a single month. My rent in New Zealand was more than double what I was paying here.
It's not healthy to say that van life was outdoorsy.
Van life was not particularly healthy. I didn't have a fridge so I couldn't store fresh fruit and vegetables.
I didn't want to cook because of the small sink and the idea of doing dishes in it. I would stop by the supermarkets to buy sandwiches and crackers.
I tried to pack a yoga mat in my van, but I didn't open it. I contorted myself around my laptop after hours of driving.
I didn't have time to explore because I spent so much time looking for wi-fi.
I lived in the van on my weekends. I was close to the mountains for the entire two months, so there were lots of opportunities to hike.
I didn't have as much time to explore during the week.
Between searching for a place to set up camp each night, keeping my van in order, and mapping out my next mobile hotspot or wi-fi connection, I didn't have a lot of time to enjoy the places I passed through.
I could swim before the sun went down if I was lucky.
It was a fun possibility to explore van life. I might give it another try one day, but if I do, I'll have a bigger camper and a better idea of what to expect.
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