Someone removed the front front side window, from the outside, without breaking the pane. They took a dashcam and walkie-talkie but kindly left the window pane in the gutter unbroken!
I’m ok, all is well but I had a problem:
I had a van with no front, forward, drivers side window
I had a pane of glass, and empty hole in the seals where it should be
What were my options here?
1) Fix it myself – if it just ‘came out’, it must ‘just go back in’ – how hard can it be?
Result: Had a go. Turns out, quite hard.
2) I drove to my favourite garage to get them to fix it.
Result: They were busy until Friday and I got the sense they didn’t really want to look at it.
3) I drove to my second choice garage.
Context: This is the garage that my parents always used to use, but recently the long-time owners retired and some new mechanics took over. I had no experience of them at all.
Result: When I arrived, the lead mechanic was busy doing an MOT, but told me that when his colleague got in in 15 mins time, he’d put him straight on it. I was happy to wait!
20 minutes later, with creative use of string, dishwasher fluid and elbow grease, my window was back in the frame where it should be. And I was standing there in awe, very glad to have outsourced that to the experts – and convinced it’d have taken me several hours of blood, sweat and tears to give up – without the same techniques.
I went to pay – happy to be in one piece again and be able to move on with my life.
But they wouldn’t take any money off me. The lead mechanic said “you’ve had a shit night – it’s nothing – I won’t take any money off you”.
I was floored. I was insanely grateful. Almost uncomfortably grateful. For the next half hour I kept wondering – how do you repay something like that?
Analysis: If we look at what he did through a business lens: They’re in a situation where perhaps they are re-establishing and want more business. The customer (me!) has had a poor experience – and at no fault of garage. The garage does something expected – and offers timely fixing – then does something unexpected – and does it for free. The customer is very happy.
But perhaps they also know that the customer will talk about that poor experience (everyone talks about getting broken into) and that for a relatively small cost (perhaps time that wouldn’t have been used anyway) they could position themselves, in that customer’s story – as the one’s who came to the rescue when things went wrong.
No-one tells their friends about an MOT they just had, but a story of how “someone stole all these things, but then the garage were so lovely afterwards” – that’s a story people do tell!
And from a human angle, it’s win-win too. Everyone loves the feeling of doing something that someone is profoundly grateful for – so it feels good too.
It was so tough, that I didn’t write any resolutions or plans, because I couldn’t divert any outward energy to them, and didn’t feel I was able to write candidly without self-censoring. So I wrote no plans.
This year I’m going to try to be more transparent – my current aims for this year are something like:
Find someone who’ll love and support me, and let me love and support them.
So we can explore our journeys together.
Ingest as much information and knowledge about relationships in whatever forms I can: books, talks, audiobooks etc.
So I understand more, and at least know where to look if I need to quickly develop skills I don’t have, which help me be a better partner.
Improve and polish the van to make it more desirable to live in
So that it’s more polished, more comfortable and could grace the pages of insufferable lifestyle magazines.
Get fitter by doing more hiking & climbing
So I feel physically & technically fit enough to consider more outdoor challenges.
Travel, explore and see the country (and others).
To see the world from different perspectives
So I can play around with building ideas that might make other people happy
Figure everything else out.
So there are answers to the unanswered questions in my life.
This is a snapshot (accurate only on the day it was posted) of constantly evolving plans. If I decide that one of those isn’t so important, it may be removed, changed etc – and that’s ok.
So here’s one last thought, if you’re able to help me take any small footsteps towards getting closer to any of those goals: recommending, suggesting, encouraging, supporting etc. then you’ll be helping me with exactly what I want to be – and I’ll be incredibly grateful.
If that’s anything I can do to support you then I’d love to know, to see what I can do – I appreciate you taking the time to read this.
“Imagine that money wasn’t something you had to worry about – what would you do?”
Once you figure out the answer, you’re meant to head down the most efficient path there. Working ‘to get rich’ when you’re seeking to ‘have a happy family life’ may not be the most efficient route for you. It’s not a new concept, and worth reflecting on.
Today, I want to share with you how I’m answering that question.
The plan is to buy a van, convert it into a live-in stealth campervan, and live in it. By June ~30th 2015.
Current status: I have bought a Mercedes Sprinter 2008 long wheel base 311 CDI 2.1 with ~150,000 miles – should go to ~300,000. It’s in fairly good nick.
This is my first car, and first thing I’ve driven on my own, so driving around Manchester is fun at times.
Where will you park it?
On the street, in different places – wherever we want to be at that point in time.
There will be an onboard Thetford c200 cassette toilet with SOG (so we won’t have to use chemicals). We will be using grey water from the sink for flushing.
What will you do about showers?
Not having them onboard. Showers exist in modern office buildings, swimming baths, sports centres etc.
Who’s going to do the conversion?
Me (with help from my girlfriend Clara).
What van conversion skills do you have?
Ability to read instructions, a nice powerdrill, blind optimism. You only learn when you try.
Why not buy a readymade campervan?
Most campervans are built for weekend trips away to caravan sites – where you get an electric hookup, and are never designed for constant use.
Parking up in a city, we’d prefer to look “stealth” – just like one of the unmarked white vans you saw today – that you didn’t give a thought to.
We dislike the 80-90s retro interior design of the campervans we’ve seen. The white/grey plastic makes me want to vom.
When you build something yourself, you value it more highly, so we think building our home will make us better appreciate it for what it is.
Why not buy a house?
You can’t drive a house to another place.
Why not build a house?
You can’t drive a house to another place.
Why not live in a canal boat?
You’re limited to canals, and travelling at about 8mph. So spending a week in the Lake District is kind of hard work.
What will you be doing about washing clothes?
Somehow, laundrettes still exist. Also, lovely friend’s houses.
What will you do about an address?
My parents live relatively nearby. That’s a good place to direct snail-mail to.
How will you power your electrics?
Initially, from leisure batteries and a split charge relay from the alternator. I’d love to have solar panels for charging the batteries, and as soon as I have time/money/energy, they’re on the agenda for the roof.
Once I can afford a Tesla Powerwall, and it’s easily available in the UK, it’s of serious interest to me.
Will you be on your own? (How will you ever get a girlfriend?)
My girlfriend Clara has been helping me with the CAD plans and seems open to living there with me.
How does she feel about it?
“*shrug* – it sounds like an adventure. If it’s not a fun adventure I will move back to my place in Sheffield. I’m super happy for my lovely boyfriend to do what makes him happy.”
How much will this cost you?
Hopefully less than a house, and less than rent, and more flexibility. I bought the van for £5,500.
I took some inspiration from VanDogTraveller and my friend Dan Woods who lived in a van during his University years in Manchester. I also listened to (and sometimes ignored) suggestions from Matt Bibby, Dave Crossland and others. I’m really grateful for their inspiration and advice.
In the ’50s, when my mum was little, she and her family lived in a converted double decker bus.
In the past I had an idea to travel around the country, spending a month in different AirBnBs. When I had the van idea, it felt more efficient and became the plan.
Won’t you be very cold in the winter?
Hopefully not. It will be chilly, for sure, and we’ll have to look carefully at how things are going as the temperatures start dropping, but we’re fairly optimistic that we can make it work. Staying warm in bed should be fairly straightforward, and one of the nice things about a van is that it’s a much smaller space to heat than the average house. We’re going to insulate it well.
Won’t you be very hot in the summer?
This could be an issue. The van is white and we’re planning to insulate it fairly well. The UK is hardly Morocco though. We count our very hot summer days, when it reaches 20C+, on one hand. If the van is unbearably hot we will go and enjoy the sunshine outside!
Aren’t you just demonstrating how incredibly privileged you are?
Yep. I’m a white well-educated, cis male, from a well-off background, with a great job and supportive family, in a first world country, with a social welfare system and a nationalised health service. I have to acknowledge that in almost everything I do. I have a lot of people to be grateful for, and I must be mindful not to take anything for granted and to do what I can to help those who’ve been less fortunate in the privilege lottery.
Aren’t you worried about what people will think?
In short, “no”.
I gave this some thought, I was worried my friends might instantly unfriend me. I realised that my friends don’t judge people by their living arrangements, but by what they’re like as a human being. I plan on being the same person, and anyone who wishes to pigeon-hole because of my living arrangements probably doesn’t know me.
Is this forever? Will you never get a house?
I may get a house in future. Who knows? Let’s figure that out when the future arrives.
I wouldn’t do this.
That’s absolutely ok!
Since about 2008, I’ve noticed that the internet has helped me geographically distribute myself. I noticed I didn’t seem to get homesick because the things I cared most about tended to be accessible via the internet.
I’m 24. I can make mistakes. I should make mistakes. I should make mistakes NOW.(I don’t seek to make mistakes, just be aware that they provide the most powerful opportunities to learn from, and that it’s easier to make bold decisions when you support fewer people.)
If this turns out to be a terrible idea, the downside is not fatal. It allows for learning. In the context of my life, it’s a small bet.
I feel that most of my relationships with my friends and family are location agnostic. Sure, I need turn up at my friend’s party, just like I should be at a family wedding – but the rest of the time? I’m not convinced physical proximity is super important so long as you’re there at ‘the right’ moments.
Being in one fixed location is less relevant to day to day job than it ever was. Most of my work is conducted over email and phone calls, and last summer I spent three weeks, working remotely from Bulgaria – more recently, close online collaboration in a distributed team seems to be working well.
I don’t want to buy a house, until I know I want to live there for ~10+ years. I don’t know where I want to be living in ~10+ years time, so I don’t want to buy a house.
There are two unfulfilled ambitions I think I have: one is to travel more, the other is to build something big.