The Wireless

On the road again

09:23 am on 30 December 2013

Instead of a home address or phone number, Darren Inwood’s email signature reads: “Brown campervan, next to New World in Newtown, Wellington 6011”.

Though that was for The Wireless’ benefit, not a fixture of his digital communication, it goes to show – when your home has wheels, the only limits are the rules of the road.

Inwood, 35, has been living in the van in and around Wellington city for three years. Aside from the retro brown-and-orange paint job (“Chewbacca colours”, he says), it’s a regular-looking, 1980s van, the type you’d see parked on the side of the road with roof racks and a heap of plumbing gear in the back.

Darren Inwood's van, newly decked out in Chewbacca colours Photo: Supplied

As it is for so many people who live in unconventional homes, Inwood was spurred into action by the high cost of living. He’d racked up “massive amounts” of debt in his twenties, and it was hard to repay that and cover rent and expenses, let alone save for a house deposit.

“Basically, I got sick of paying rent,” he says. “It seemed like I was spending my life paying off other people’s mortgages. If I’m going to be able to afford a house, I need to be able to save up for a deposit, and I’m not really earning enough to do that and pay rent at the same time.”

A friend who lived in a tent on the Wellington Town Belt in Mt Victoria inspired Inwood to look at other options of accommodation. “He’d done that just because he wanted to get completely off the grid, and not be a burden on society – he was a hippie, basically,” he says. “I thought that was quite an admirable sentiment.”

I shopped on Trade Me for ages, picked the best van, bought that, discovered it was full of rust, crushed it and bought another one…

He considered the idea for a few years, taking on the smallest rooms in the flats he was living in, not only so as to save money for a van, but as an impetus to downsize his possessions and get used to living in a confined space.

After he felt he’d done enough research to make the change in lifestyle comfortably, he took the plunge. “I was at a point in my life where there weren’t other major changes happening, I’d been in a stable job for ages, blah blah blah. That was the time.

“I shopped on Trade Me for ages, picked the best one, bought that, discovered it was full of rust, crushed it and bought another one…” He laughs.

It was “definitely” a learning experience. “The main thing I didn’t know was that if you park by the ocean, your vehicle gets really rusty, really quickly.”

He’d spent the first six months in the van parked by Oriental Parade. “I woke up by the beach, and walked to work with people out walking their dog at 7am. It was really cool and all, but yeah. Ended up having to crush my investment.”

Finding a safe place to park, within walking distance of the central city and outside coupon parking zones, also proved a challenge. For the first few weeks, he stayed in friends’ driveways while he scouted out suitable spots.

“Coupon parking extends a really long way in all directions in the central city, so it’s about finding the little places, the tiny exceptions to the rule,” he says. “If you’re going to sit there for a week, it’s no problem. You just show up at midnight, snake a park and stay there for a while.

“The biggest problem is because you’re moving around so much you’re not sure exactly how long it takes to get to work. When I park in a new place, I just take a wild guess.”

He has internet access through his cellphone, 240v mains electricity, a gas stove to cook on, and running water. A solar panel tops the battery up. As a vegetarian, he doesn’t need a refrigerator, and he showers at the gym, at work, or his girlfriend’s house.

If I feel like watching a movie, I go park up by the beach, and just watch the surfers for a while

“I’m exactly the right person to do this,” he says. “I’ve got no problem with not having much space, and not having many things.”

But he misses being able to have friends over, and admits it can get quite claustrophobic on rainy days. “In the middle of winter, it can rain for weeks. You get home after work, it’s past five, make some dinner, by six, you’ve cleaned everything up – what do you do for the next four hours?”

Despite this, it’s never occurred to him to pack it in, in part because insulating the van, setting up running water and gas, installing furniture and upgrading the engine has been quite the investment. “Because I’m stubborn and I’ve poured so much money into doing my van up, that it’s like, ‘I’m going to enjoy this. It’s going to be awesome’.”

Inwood also rents a recording studio, where he keeps his music gear, and a workshop, where he tinkers with his power tools – “so I’ve got all those spaces around the city as well,” he says. “I’m probably paying the same as a person would pay for a flat, only I get a workshop, a recording studio and to live by the beach for the weekend if I want to.”

Inwood tries to change location every week or so, just so the van’s not a target for thieves – and whenever he feels like a change of scene. “If I feel like watching a movie, I go to Lyall Bay, park up by the beach, and just watched the surfers for a while.”

He’s also taken it on camping trips and long weekends to Kaitoki, Rotorua – “the usual places. There’s enough space in it for two people to live comfortably for a while.”

Inwood and his girlfriend are looking to buy a house together in the next couple of years, so it won’t be forever, but it suits him for now. When he has his own house, the van will make the transition from home, to holiday home. “I’ll keep it because it’s neat for going away on weekends, camping and stuff. It’s like a status symbol in the US – you’ve got to have the RV.”