Canada and Beyond: Tales from a Canadian nomad: The Gypsy Wagon

I have finally managed to secure myself an apartment to move into and will be selling the Gypsy Wagon asap. It is the end of an era for me for sure. When I returned from Australia after spending four years there, I was not sure what was going to be next for me. Australia had been a bit of a gong show, particularly the last few months that I was not in a state to work full time and manage an apartment. I knew that I needed some time to heal, get my energy back, decide what would be next in my life, and reacquaint myself with Canada.

I spent a couple of months with my mom in Halifax before returning to Victoria. I had no other plan in mind than living in my VW Westfalia that I had given to friends before I moved to Australia and they so graciously handed back to me upon my return. I lived in the Karma van (the VW’s name) for the summer and determined it was just not big enough to live in full time. There was no bathroom. Something needed to change but I was still not sure what I was going to do with my life.

I had some money in an RRSP that I was able to access so I bought the Gypsy Wagon in September of that year, actually on September 4, 2015…6 years to the day after my dad passed away. It felt like a good sign and totally coincidental. I had always looked to my dad for advice on vehicles and road travel and wished he could have been with me as I searched for the best RV. I know he was there in spirit. I also carry a small urn of his ashes with me as my co-pilot.

parked in the alley by Amber & Jason's

The Gypsy Wagon was a game changer. Having my own bathroom was the biggest
thing. I left for Edmonton about 2 days after I bought it, needing to finally visit with my daughter there. I had not seen her since my return to Canada, so it was a must do! I packed up the Gypsy Wagon and headed over the Rockies. The old girl handled the mountains like a champ. I spent nearly a month visiting before heading back to Victoria. I had considered staying but remembered just how damn cold and snowy the rest of Canada was and knew I needed to be in Victoria.

curbside

I wasn’t sure where I was going to be parking so began by parking in front of the homes of friends. I did some house sitting, dog/cat sitting, and stayed in RV parks from time to time, and a few campgrounds. I also rented a long parking stall behind an apartment building for several months. Curbside was not my favorite. It meant the RV was usually not plugged in and dependent upon my solar panels which in grey winter rainy weather, I did not get much power. Curbside also meant the RV was tipped in towards the curb, so things rolled all over the place. To keep the parking patrol at bay, I moved the RV every few days, had a few places I liked to frequent and often “checked in” using Facebook at places like “Dead End at Chambers”. I ended up challenging most of my tickets and having them cancelled but it was getting rather annoying to be on the street with all the traffic and people passing by.

From curbside I went to an RV park but they were closing just a few months later for major renovations and new management so I moved out when they closed and parked myself in a local pay parking lot. It was next door to the city ballfield and had stalls long enough for my RV, and three sides of the lot were surrounded by trees and homes. For $10/night, it worked. There was wifi signal in the parking lot, and I managed to camp out there for nearly 2 years.

Things began to get a bit creepy there and when my pizza delivery guy noted a weirdo who was video recording me as I had pizza delivered was the final straw. It was time to begin searching for a new space. All I really wanted was an RV park but with at least a year wait list and the only one nearby was so crowded, they were not at all attractive. I had been looking for a driveway to park in for a few years with no luck.

in my friend's driveway

Then a friend came to my rescue and offered me her driveway. I was thrilled! Finally a little more security than living in a parking lot. It was a busy household with 5 children and a large dog. We all had our routines and lived busy lives so we ticked along quite well until the pandemic. That changed a lot of things for us all.

Gypsy Wagon in the background of tractor

Just a few days after the pandemic was declared, I ended up in the hospital for a
week for a DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis) and was rather sick. Once I was discharged, my plan had been to go to Salt Spring for awhile to recover and to see what would be unfolding with the pandemic. I had been parking in that driveway without issue – but my bunk was located in the rear of my vehicle and the window was right beside my pillow, and with the window open, people walking down the sidewalk were within mere inches of my face, during a pandemic where coughing would be spreading the virus. All of a sudden I did not feel safe anymore. So off I went to Salt Spring to say on the farm with my daughter and her partner. I had no plan of how long – how did any of us in those first weeks and months of the pandemic? I just knew that if shit got real and things started to deteriorate fast, I needed to be with my only child when it happened.

Farm kitty with my RV

So I drove the Gypsy Wagon over to the farm and parked for a couple of months. I was already set up for off grid living, so it wasn’t hard to manage. Once I had used up my on board water, my daughter’s partner would bring some in bottles and fill me up again. Those two months I spent on the farm were quite special. I loved being there and I was getting healthier in such a beautiful space. I regained my strength and before we knew it, things were opening up again in Victoria. I was unable to return to my former driveway parking space due to the pandemic – it would just not work for me. A couple of my very close friends then decided to organize a driveway for me to come home to. I had to park on the curb for a couple of weeks while they sold their old RV to make room for mine, and then once it sold, I was home. I pulled the Gypsy Wagon up into the driveway and set up camp.

This driveway was much farther from the sidewalk so I didn’t get nearly as much noise and the traffic noise was muffled as I was between two houses now. The driveway was slanted though, so it took a bit of getting used to living on a slant. The straight lines of siding on the houses outside were making my brain crazy as I tried to reset my balance with the new slant. I spent the next year living here, and it was my oasis in the pandemic. It felt like living with family, and we had our tight social bubble for many months as the public health orders continued. We leaned on each other for support over the past year as we all faced the pandemic and the effect it had on us all.

I continued to visit the farm on Salt Spring regularly and took the Gypsy Wagon there happily. Then my daughter and her partner had their driveway landscaped and his brother’s portion was fenced, so it became increasingly difficult to get my RV to the part of the property where they had settled in. They had bought a much larger trailer to live in and it had a bunk room where I could sleep (amongst other animals – chickens, dog, cats, etc.) so I began leaving the Gypsy Wagon at home in the driveway and rented a car for my journeys to the farm. That seemed to work so much better now so I decided to buy a car and continued my car trips the farm, leaving the Gypsy Wagon at home month after month.

my trusty co-pilot Nash

It became clear I was having less and less use for an RV to live in. I was not travelling anymore, and I had a car, was working full time again in a job I like, and was growing out of my RV. My hobbies and activities were keeping me busy and filling up my RV with supplies, enough that I started tripping on bins of rocks, stubbing my toes on this and that as my RV crowded me out. The final straw came though when I started having more struggles getting out of my bunk. One morning I had a really bad charley horse in my abdomen as I struggled to fight gravity and the slope of the RV to crawl out of my bunk. It is only open at the bottom end of one side corner, so I couldn’t simply swing my legs out to get up. I was certain at the time I would wither and die right there in my bed. With each attempt to get out of bed, the charley horse would seize me up and lock my middle core right up. I eventually made it out of bed, but it was finally clear to me that the Gypsy Wagon was not working for me any longer.

Add to that the ongoing issues that face owners of older vehicles/RVs. I had just

Nash in the Nash Pad

spent $666.01 (I know – what a price) on the roof seal in January. There is an oil leak that needs tending. It was all becoming too much for me to manage – and more importantly, I did not WANT to manage anymore. I would like to just come home from work and relax. Instead the Gypsy Wagon was fast becoming a huge trigger for my anxiety. Backing down the driveway to go dump the tanks was something I stressed about constantly. When my tanks were nearing full, I hardly slept thinking about having to back the beast down the hill and not hit anyone or ripping the black water tank off. I would put it off again and again, choosing to go without running water or using my toilet for days on end until I could get my shit together enough to take care of it.

There have been many adventures had in this old Gypsy Wagon. To name just a few:

Road trip to Edmonton over the Rockies when I first bought her.
Road trip the following year to Desert Trip with my friend M. We took two weeks and went to a massive music festival in California that fall. We travelled through 7 states and camped all over the place. We drove through the Grand Canyon, across the Golden Gate Bridge, through the mountains everywhere and had a wonderful adventure.
Road trip to Houston, BC to stay with my sister and her family for several weeks. It was our best visit, likely due to me having my own personal space when I needed it. From there I left for Edmonton for another couple of months.
Many road trips to go camping all over Vancouver Island including several trips to our friend’s property at Sunny Daze. It sure made camping so much easier!

The not so happy adventures were less in number but some were quite notable:

· The early morning S.W.A.T. (or whatever they are called in Canada) descended upon the small apartment building I was parked in front of for months. I heard a BANG and so looked out my windows to discover several in tactical gear with weapons out – the guy beside my bunk window just waved at me to shhhh and get down…yikes. They then busted into the guys apartment and arrested him for several things related to drugs and guns.
· Breaking down on the TransCanada fast lane during rush hour. I had thrown my alternator belt after just coming down off the Malahat Mountain. Left me stuck in heavy traffic, terrified that someone was going to slam into me.
· Having the RV broken into while I was inside. I was in Richmond parked behind the hotel I was staying at and had gone down to spend time with the kitty and was laying in bed with him when I heard a CRASH SMASH so I hollered out – and someone grabbed my work bag from the front seat and ran off. Glass everywhere. Rebar scrap outside they used to break the window. Parked in the front after that and someone parked right behind me as I was pulling out and so I smashed into them, no damage to the RV but nearly totalled the taxi I hit.
Waking up to frantic knocking on my door by some stranger while I was in the parking lot – looked out the window and he started yelling at me to let him in as people were going to kill him. I was certain he was at the wrong RV as I was not the only one in the parking lot and there were many who walk the city at nights if you had not already heard. I did not let him in. I told him to look to his right and walk to the police station a half block away…close enough that we could both see it.
· And I could not forget the time I hit a palm tree in Hollywood looking for the Hollywood sign. Ripped the awning clean off. So I took the wrangled metal and canvas and threw it onto the front yard of the guy who owned the palm tree and got the hell out of there. We did find the sign…

So that is the history of the Gypsy Wagon. Adventures were had. She served me well. This chapter is over. The end. Now to find someone else for her to go on adventures with. Enjoy the trip down memory lane with me below. I have tried to caption them all...