Fri. Nov 18th, 2022

OPINION: Im converting a small bus into a tiny home for my small family to live in.
Well live in it to avoid steep Wellington rents, and save some money towards a house of our own.
I bought it kitted out as a camper, and when I got it home, I started gutting it, and designing the renovation. It would have been fine to use for a road trip, but it wasnt suitable for living in. It had a bed with some thin squabs, an old gas stove, a sink, an uncomfortable dinette, and an overhead ambulance cabinet from when it was owned by the Order of St John in the 1990s.
The planning stage of a van conversion means analysing how you live in great detail. Like many of us in New Zealand, Im accustomed to my basic needs being met without putting much thought into it.
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I flick a switch, the lights turn on. I use my appliances without knowing how much power they consume. When I turn on a tap, unlimited clean water comes out, and it is heated by some magic that goes on in the unseen cavities of the house.
In an off-grid home, especially a tiny one on wheels, all of those simple things have to be planned for. I got off to a head start: my bus already has a freshwater tank with an electric pump, and a grey water tank. What luxury!
Charlotte Fieldings campervan came with an uncomfortable dining area, and thin squabs for beds.
Gas is set up and safely ventilated. There is some electrical functionality: the engine charges the batteries which power the lights, but this will be insufficient for us, so Ill be installing solar and rewiring everything.
I started paying attention to all my daily habits, while researching what others did with their vans. One of the great things about van conversions are the creative solutions people come up to make a vehicle functional for living in. Everyone who has retrofitted a van or bus is an engineer in some ways, I reckon.
One of the first decisions I considered was plumbing and waste. Showers and toilets in vans are a hotly debated topic. Some luxury vans include a full bathroom, some have a porta-pottie under the bed to pull out in emergencies.
A toilet is essential for us as we will be parked up, not travelling between public toilets. The main issue is they take up space, and need to be emptied. Our toilet will take up space, as it needs an enclosed room – even if our knees touch the wall – so we can at least pretend we have some privacy.
To begin with, I decided against installing a shower. Putting a shower in a van or bus is a big deal. It takes up a lot of space, relative to the rest of the setup. That space needs to be waterproofed and drain to a greywater tank. It needs a water heater, which isnt cheap. Plus Ill have to hire a plumber.
Then there’s the water requirement, which is the biggest challenge. Even with a water-saver shower head, you can expect to use around 30 litres for a five minute shower. My fresh water tank is 30 litres, so I’d empty the tank each time I had a shower. This can be reduced by turning the water on and off while lathering up, but only a little.
Charlotte Fieldings campervan once it had been stripped out but where will the toilet fit?
I didnt think much about water conservation before, but even minimal consumption is a lot when you have to manually fill up a tank.
So I tried not showering for two weeks, as a test to see if I could avoid installing a shower in the bus. Wait. Not showering at home. I still showered. My son is with his dad half the time, so he showered there, and at the pool when he was with me.
It was surprising how quickly my habits changed. Before, I showered every morning. During the test, I showered at the pool every other day, at any time that was convenient, as it was the nearest public facility to my house. Some vanlifers take out gym memberships just to use the shower facilities.
Once, I didnt feel like going to the pool and I used dry shampoo and a flannel. It was more manageable than I expected, but some of my friends were horrified that I was contemplating not having a shower.
Once there was a swim meet at the local pool, and when I said to the lifeguard that I was only there for a shower, he waved me through without charging me. Do I look homeless and in need of a free shower? I wondered. But I live in Karori; it would be more likely that I was having my bathroom renovated.
The test went fine, and I decided I could cope with a year of bus life without a shower, though it might be a hassle sometimes.
Then I had a conversation with a friend whose brother had bought a house in Auckland at the end of last year. New build, $650k. In three months the value had gone up to $980k. Thats $110k a month, and theres no way I can save to keep up with that kind of inflation, even if Im living in a bus.
That conversation made me think that we might end up living in the bus for longer than my initial plan of a year, which tipped the balance in favour of installing a shower.
I dont have an answer to the water supply issue yet, but there is time to figure it out.