A year and a half ago, the first steps of my blog were taken from inside a van. It was like a test trip to see if I could and wanted to live the van life.

There was no doubt about it; I do want to 😍

I've hinted a few times that I plan to move into my van home next summer, and that plan is still in effect. As autumn began its hardest, darkest journey, I finally bought my own van and started planning.

In October, my blue charmer, Tapsa, came home.

The initial relationship went well. Tapsa transported me to the fells and back. We were both happy with our shared adventures. I spent several evenings sitting in the cargo area, pondering what all I would build in there for the summer.

With the cold of winter setting in, Tapsa was left outside to rest and gather snowdrifts on top of it. I didn’t quite trust its ability to stay awake during the harshest winter frosts, so it lay there, waiting for the warmth of spring.

In January, I thought I’d start the van just for fun, simply to check if it was still alive and to start considering some renovation ideas for spring.

That’s when the downhill slide began.

Tapsa wouldn’t start. Not on the second try, nor the third. Not a couple of days later. Not with a jump start or a fully charged battery. I don’t know what magic we finally used to get the van running, but it was already half a victory and an immense effort involving days of collaboration with various people. I drove Tapsa for about a week, and it seemed to be in good spirits.

I was about to sigh with relief. This was the setback that happens to everyone in such projects, right? And now it’s over.

I left Tapsa to rest and wait for warmer days.

As the spring sun began to shine, I cleaned the van from floor to ceiling. I rented a textile cleaner and cleaned the seats, ceiling, and floor. The amount of dirty water was substantial. The van had apparently been used for renovation work, and its cargo area had been recklessly used for transporting oily and dirty items. The smell was accordingly foul. To put it nicely, the van smelled like a man who had been soaked in oil. Yum.

Inside the van, there was the frame for the bed and table at the time of purchase. Both were in pretty miserable condition, covered in a black, slimy layer of grime—and the accompanying smell.

I carefully sanded the surfaces of the bed and table. Beneath all that black, oily surface, a beautiful and clean wood grain was revealed—just the kind I like. I treated the surface with linseed oil because I wanted to keep the wood as natural as possible. I’ll probably be preparing food on the table, so a non-toxic, wood-protecting linseed oil is a good choice for that purpose. I’ll need to treat the surfaces again as they get used, but that doesn’t bother me. It’s a nice little project.

As spring began to emerge, Tapsa's starting issues increased after it had been borrowed by friends for a while. Efforts were made to keep Tapsa alive by any means necessary: the battery was replaced, the starter was serviced, and the engine, air intake ducts, electronics, and belts were all examined. Everything seemed to be in working order and yet out of order at the same time. The more I investigated the van, the more peculiarities I found—wires that led nowhere, buttons that did nothing, and interesting observations like the fact that the front lights sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t, along with the complete absence of the hazard lights and horn.

In the freezing temperatures, Tapsa was kept alive with the help of several car batteries, and it barely survived the winter.

At the same time that the exterior of my van home was falling apart, I was planning its interior. I had decided early in the project that during my first year of van life, I would keep the renovations reasonable. I don’t own tools, nor do I have the skills to dismantle the entire interior, insulate it, or upgrade the ventilation or electrical systems—things that are often done in van projects, especially those built abroad. However, since the van would be my home for the summer, I wanted to make it at least somewhat livable. I don’t need much in my van home, but I decided that in addition to a bed and table, there must also be a refrigerator and some kind of small electrical charging capability.

The easiest way to get electricity in the van is through a leisure battery. A leisure battery is an additional battery that is connected to the main car battery via a relay. When the car is running, the engine charges the main battery first, and once it’s full, it begins charging the leisure battery. If the leisure battery is used and drains, the relay between the batteries prevents the main car battery from draining.

For the first time in my life, I researched and studied electrical engineering. I calculated what kind of inverter, or power converter, I would need to connect to the leisure battery to charge my computer, phone, and camera batteries relatively safely and efficiently.

At the end of winter, I finally took the van to the repair shop and asked them to examine it thoroughly to determine whether it was worth fixing and how much it would cost. The friendly and helpful mechanic advised me to take the van for inspection now, almost six months in advance, so I could get a detailed list of issues to address and then decide what to do with the vehicle.

I had mentally prepared myself for a total setback, and that’s exactly what I got. The inspection revealed additional problems on top of the ones I was already aware of. The brakes also failed during the test. At first, I cursed the person who had caused the brakes to break on my barely functioning vehicle, but the inspection staff wisely pointed out that it was better for them to fail now than when I was on a trip alone in the middle of nowhere.

I drove home without brakes. Tapsa was taken out of service.

I’ve cursed my idea and the entire van many times throughout the winter, to the point where I can’t even bring myself to curse anymore. I’m taking Tapsa as a learning experience. A costly one, but at least I won’t have to learn through the school of hard knocks a second time. I hope someone else can learn from my experiences with the van project and how it should be done.

I never would have believed I’d delve into car repair and restoration, but that’s the beauty of life. You never know what it will bring your way, and you can learn something from everything. Throughout the winter, I’ve learned an incredible amount.

I’ve learned about diesel engines. I’ve learned how to start one myself using assistance if it won’t do it on its own. I’ve learned how to change the car battery, oil, and filters. YouTube has been a huge help, and I’m still surprised by how much information is available there. I’ve learned that car repair isn’t rocket science; it’s very much about practical problem-solving. I’ve learned that when you buy a cheap car, you get a cheap car.

A huge thank you to my friends, especially M, without whom I wouldn’t have learned any of this. I’m repeating myself, but without other people, these setbacks and problems would feel much heavier to bear alone. Thank you <3

My van project is taking a bit more time, money, and a few detours than I initially thought, but I’m not giving up. New winds are already in the sails, and new plans are ahead to ensure that my summer van journey becomes a reality.

Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations

♥: Sanna