I've been running my little Brand Strategy + Web Design biz while traveling the world since 2020. "Sent Packing" is meant to help people along their own journey of building a small biz on the go.
The Design Guide series is where you'll find things like how to curate a brand that attracts your people and how to DIY your granola girl website. Subscribe to it HERE.
The Alia's Secret Travel Journal series is where I reveal all the crazy mishaps I've experienced traveling as a solo girl in her 20s. It's raw, humorous, and honestly chaotic - I hope you enjoy. Subscribe to it HERE.
Just so you’re up to speed, my name’s Alia, and this is my secret travel journal. I’m a 20-something American girl living in my self-converted shuttle bus. This is where I share it all—the hilariously embarrassing truth about my adventures. Today’s edition, The DIYer’s Guide to Choosing a Vanlife Vehicle [2024], including my real experience, research, and buying tips.
If you want to know all the deets from the beginning, here’s my origin story: PART 1 and PART 2. You’ll read about my brutal path to vanlife and how I started my business.
That’s really all you need to know. Now, go on, step inside… Welcome to the mayhem.
SIDE NOTE: If you want my full bus-buying story, keep reading! If you want to skip to the research, click HERE.
I’m not a planner. You won’t find me researching products before buying or reading restaurant reviews before going. I promised you the full truth in this series, so there, take it.
But, I also promise – I swear to Lizzo herself – I researched vanlife vehicles like my life depended on it. And in a lot of ways, it did.
I drew comparison charts, made pros and cons lists, even sketched different vans to understand their mechanical nuances. I did so much uncharacteristic planning on which van I should buy, all of which would prove to be completely and utterly pointless.
I understood the severity and weight of this buy. This vehicle was going to be my new home! I was essentially house hunting and car shopping at the same time – so, in simple, non-dramatic terms, it was the biggest investment decision of my entire life.
VW vans, the vintage looking ones that scream hippy-dippy vagabond, were super tempting but they are known to break down. On top of that, their parts are super rare, and therefore super expensive.
Dodge Pro vans were an option, but they have a large bar on their belly that hangs low to the ground that is known for getting caught on bumpy, rocky terrain.
There were Mercedes Sprinter Vans, the typical rig you think of when you think of vanlife, but damn they can be expensive. And if you need to get them fixed, you need to find a Mercedes mechanic, and they would have to get you special European parts. Too high maintenance for me.
I decided what I needed was a Ford Transit Van XL. They’re shaped like Sprinters, tall enough for me to stand up in, American made, which meant cheap parts that were easy to get ahold of, and did well driving on tough terrain.
Turns out, I would end up ignoring all this research except when reminding myself just how shit my actual vehicle turned out to be. (It’s ironic, really, how I ended up with a vehicle that waved every red flag I just mentioned: it breaks down a ton, has unusual parts, and very much does not do well on tough terrain.)
There was one tiny little detail I was initially ignoring in my charts and research… The whip whoppin’, put me in the grave, price tag. Are we starting to see how all my research was pointless?
Here’s what actually happened when I got serious about buying the vehicle: I called up my Uncle Wreck (self-proclaimed nickname, I swear), the king of Craigslist, DIY, and all things handy. I asked him what I should be looking for when buying a used van. Yes, a used van, because I eventually accepted the fact that a new van was out of the question when it came to my budget.
“How much can you spend on it? You can bring it up here to Vermont once you buy it and use all our tools to build it out. We’ve got a workshop and tons of old wood you can use for it, so you can put some of that money into the vehicle instead of supplies. And my folks would love to help out with the build, I’m sure,” he said, energetically.
I was taken aback by how invested he already was in the project. I had asked for tips over a 10 minute phone call, not months of time and resources. Even so, I was grateful. I knew he was a dreamer and a doer, but I’d later come to fully understand the extent to his full-throttle on everything personality.
Coughing out my price point warily, I said, “I can spend around… 5k on it.”
There was a moment of silence, just a second, where I knew he was making his, “are you serious?” face, like I had ignored all the money-saving things he just mentioned.
“Well,” he said decidedly, “I’ll look around on Craigslist and see if I come across something worth buying.”
He then proceeded to tell me about the many cars and a recent camper he had bought on Craigslist. He told me about the rust problems – oh my god, you would have thought rust killed his first born child – and the break downs, and the mechanic trips, and the work and money that I would definitely need to put into it.
Looking back, I’m not sure why this didn’t warn me away from taking his advice when it came to buying Craigslist cars. It sounded like he wasn’t very good at picking ones that actually ran… C’est la vie.
“I’m ready for it,” I told him with a little too much pep. That same dubious silence hit the phone line.
“Okay! I’ll see what I find,” he said eventually. I thanked him and hung up.
I didn’t realize it yet, but I was so not ready for it.
Over the next couple of months Uncle Wreck emailed me links upon links of Craigslist vans, many of which I vetoed. I’d tell him, “too small,” “too old,” “already built out in a way that didn’t fit my vision.”
I began feeling like the Princess and the Potty – anyone read that book when you were a kid? The young princess would not use the potty until her royal butt could sit on the perfect porcelain throne. That’s how I felt, like a royal pain being picky about every potty I was presented.
I had to remind myself that I did not ask Uncle Wreck to find a van for me, I simply inquired about advice on buying one. He took it upon himself to become increasingly invested, and although I appreciated it beyond words, I didn’t want to settle for a van I didn’t love just because I felt guilty about getting someone’s help.
This was my dream, after all. My dream, my potty.
I started sending him vehicles too, ones that better fit my vision: ambulances with big insides and loads of compartments, vehicles that were just empty inside without anything already built, and Ford Transits that were out of my budget, but that I could say, “something like this…” (As in, exactly this, but work your Craigslist magic and make it 3 times cheaper.)
Months passed like this, me and Uncle Wreck slowly getting to know each other through Craigslist ads. I would show him what I liked and he would show me what was realistic. He would explain to me what to watch out for when test driving. I would go test drive, reporting back that everything he said to watch out for happened.
There was one van in particular that was gorgeous on the inside, but wouldn’t run past 30mph. The whole car ride I couldn’t wait to get on the phone with Uncle Wreck and tell him everything that was wrong with it, showing off all that I had learned – a proud toddler presenting her scribbled crayon masterpiece.
Eventually, I got restless. I stopped caring about the vehicle’s type or appearance; I just wanted to give someone my money for a hunk of metal on wheels.
And, boy, did I.
Uncle Wreck emailed me a link to a bus in Raleigh, North Carolina. The post checked all the boxes of a promising vehicle.
I stared at the airport shuttle bus on my screen, increasingly excited about all the mentally checked boxes. The rig was huge – plenty of room to stand up in and build a little kitchen, a bed, and maybe even a whole bathroom. (You can read about the time I nearly flooded that future kitchen here, lol: Lice, Laundromats, and Losing My Mind)
…Right, then. Let’s freaking go.
Excitement was bubbling up in my stomach, but there was something else there. Nerves? I had been looking at vehicles for so long, the thought of actually committing to one felt daunting. Uncle Wreck mentioned he happened to be driving through Raleigh soon and could test drive the shuttle bus for me.
He FaceTimed me while test driving it. He’d say things like, “Yep, hear that when I brake? Sounds great,” and “see that when I accelerate? Good sign!” All the while, I couldn’t hear anything over the thundering sound of the shuttle bus engine, and the only thing I could see was the view from Uncle Wreck’s lap, being the underside of chin.
“Well, Alia, I think this is the one,” Uncle Wreck told me afterwards over the phone. I tried to hold back my giddy shrieks. He had given his official stamp of approval, it was up to me now to send an offer.
I gave him my thanks and hung up, breathing deeply. Neither of us could have known the amount of money, time, and stress I would later sacrifice to the breakdowns and mechanical work of this vehicle.
The only thing we knew, I knew, was that it was happening. Vanlife was happening.
I was going to buy this 2003 airport shuttle bus and turn it into my home; I was going to run my little business from the back of it, perched on top of a cliff overlooking the ocean; I was going to get a dog and name it Maui; Maui would sit outside the bus’s back door next to my yoga mat while I made tons of money and worked with other dream-living nomads online. The dream.
I am laughing at myself so hard right now.
Now for the real meat and potatoes of the DIYer’s Guide to Choosing a Vanlife Vehicle if you’re buying a rig to live/travel in.
(I’ve linked to images of these vehicles so you can quickly picture what I’m talking about. You’ll have to find the best place to buy your vehicle yourself, whether that be a dealership, Craigslist, or wherever!)
Vehicle | Pros | Cons |
---|---|---|
Mercedes Sprinter | – high ceiling – popular, meaning more DIY conversion guides | – all Mercedes made, more expensive to buy and maintain in the US – only specialized mechanics can work on it, usually from the Mercedes dealership |
Ford Transit | – high ceiling – wider than a sprinter – parts are made in the US, so cheaper for American mechanics to work on | – only newer models in the US = more expensive initial buy, even for a used one – less conversion guides available |
Dodge ProMaster | – is more square shaped, so built in features won’t have to be specifically rounded – cheapest when it comes to a tall, customizable van | – shorter in length than Transit and Sprinter – has a low-hanging bar underneath, bad for driving on rough terrain |
VW Volkswagon Camper Van | – hippy aesthetic – hightop option for higher roof or pop top option for a bed or storage | – old vehicle, breaks down easily – old parts, harder and more expensive to replace – will most likely need serious repairs upon purchase |
Cargo Van (Ford Econoline) | – cheap to buy secondhand – parts are easy and cheap to replace – good for stealth camping – most mechanics work on them – can add a hightop to make it taller | – much smaller than all other vans – can be creepy looking |
I didn’t do much research on school buses, ambulances, or box trucks, but I think those are solid options to look into!
Here are all the things I was told to ask about when buying a used vehicle. Take this with a grain of salt considering the Break-Down Queen I ended up with. I am by no means an expert.
I love my little shuttle bus and all the memories and experiences she’s given me, but would I buy her again? Hell freaking NO. After living vanlife to the fullest, I’ve learned that having a reliable vehicle is absolutely the most important thing.
It is scary breaking down on the side of the road or in the middle of no where. It often feels really unsafe (lol, because it is). The fear of an unreliable vehicle will hold you back from exploring far out places, because if you break down there, what the heck are you going to do?
Not only is a trusty vehicle so important on a safety level, but on a money level, it is a must. Mechanics are scammers; they will suck every number right out of your bank account if given the chance. I only say that from experience!
Plus, when your car breaks down, your house is also broken down, which means you’ll have to pay for tow trucks, Airbnbs, Ubers and things you can’t even account for. I’ve spent just as much money on dealing with breakdowns, if not more, as I would have spent getting a relatively new Ford Transit from the start.
Do with this info what you will! And remember, I’m no expert, so doing some more research on your own couldn’t hurt!
No matter your choices, I’m rooting for you, dude.
Love you, good luck, and stay sane.
Alia
Lice, Laundromats, and Losing My Mind: A Vanlife Misadventure: “I skidded into the laundromat parking lot at 10am on a mission. I sat behind the steering wheel and tied my hair up in a tight knot, like I was trying to shut the lice up before we went out in public together. Sit still and be quiet, I snapped at them.”
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I've been running my little Brand Strategy + Web Design biz while traveling the world since 2020. "Sent Packing" is meant to help people along their own journey of building a small biz on the go.
The Design Guide series is where you'll find things like how to curate a brand that attracts your people and how to DIY your granola girl website. Subscribe to it HERE.
The Alia's Secret Travel Journal series is where I reveal all the crazy mishaps I've experienced traveling as a solo girl in her 20s. It's raw, humorous, and honestly chaotic - I hope you enjoy. Subscribe to it HERE.