Surviving A European Winter In Your Van: We did it poorly, so you can do it well
If you have a van or campervan, fitted out with high tech state of the art amenities (a heater)... this article is likely not for you. But, if you have maybe just commenced your vehicle oriented journey, despite not having thousands in savings and likely even a working sink - hey. You're among friends. After building out a sprinter van with my (ex) partner over the course of eight months, cutting costs anywhere we found them and having an infinite fucking ball on the road, I can now offer a little advice to make your journey - should you choose to accept it - just that little bit easier.
Europe in winter is fucking cold. Sure that's coming from an Australian - but a Melbournian Australian, where our cold season reckons with some of the milder bests of them.
It is also incredibly windy, especially if traversed along its coast and in the winding mountains which provide for the best of views and worst of wind. (Is there another way to use 'wind' I haven't thought of...?).
Another thing incredibly cold - is steel. The sheets of steel which encase you where you sleep in your van are naturally cool to the touch. I am not here to lecture you on insulation, but if you don't got it - get it. We got it, rolls of cork insulation which we slathered in neoprene gel and stuck onto each wall we could find, which then all started to buckle and peel off the walls due to incorrect and inefficient application (see - user error). In the depths of winter, we had entire sections of the roof caving in which we had unscrewed to inspect the mould growing within, and which led to us eventually refurnishing everything we could in new and improved cork covering.
All this to say - we got through a European winter in van with next to no heat insulation as a result of our own reckless and foolhardy application and rush to get on the road, which equipped us with some tips we can share with you today on how to beat the absence of heat and get up every morning without fully frozen joints.
Some of these you'll have, some you'll have not. But anything can be got, and if we know you (a person with a van) - you're resourceful. You'll get around it.
1. Bag of 100 degree liquid
That's right - ladies and gentlemen, my best friend - the HOT WATER BOTTLE!
No, I am not joking. Yes, I have that familiar warmth of love and happiness spreading across my chest when I think of her. My hot water bottle... you will not remember how you ever lived without one. I don't think I am being dramatic. Freezing, frigid fucking nights are turned around with one flick of the gas, one pot over stove, one litre or so of one hundred degree water. My guarantee? It is well worth the gas. If yours doesn't come with one of those cute covers, wrap it in a t-shirt or jumper and wrap your own body around it the same, abdominals pressed against pure heat, arms crossed and holding it close. Better than a boyfriend, ifyaknowwhatimean.... Honestly, even overheating a little and waking up with those streaky, mysterious red marks feels more like a love bite from your newfound mysterious best friend hot water bottle, than an assault on your skin. Granted, there's not much it could do to you to have you abandon it now. You have literally unlocked winter in a van. Get a hot water bottle. The article could end here and there'd be nothing more to say. I digress.
2. Sleeping arrangements
Ok. Moving on from the above and further into normal territory. We shall assume that, like me, at the time of reading this you are single and animal free. If you are not, grab your partner/pet and stuff them into the mattress besides you - that's not your companion anymore, that's your heater. But what about those of us without portable animated heating devices? You'll want a thick quilt, duh, and a thin fleece blanket which will hold more heat than you could expect to emanate from a 3mm thin rag. You will want to keep your socks on in bed until that blessed moment arrives that it is too hot to keep them on any longer. You will want to dive under the blanket, and stay there - no, really - head submerged, swimming on land - breathing all that hot air into the space between you and the sheets and kicking your legs up and down frantically to create friction. Friction = heat. Hands go in between your thighs. Foetal position for now. You will warm up faster than you think, and when you feel it, you can poke your head out above the blankets, breathe in crisp and cold air, and whisper 'goodnight Miss Andrews... Miss Andrews... Miss Andrews...'.
3. You are what you wear
NO, I am not going to tell you to 'rug up'. If you wanted a basic, STUPID answer you would have queried some lake draining AI tool rather than a real person. There are tricks to rugging up which no predictive learning model could possibly understand until the day comes that they are embodied and given sensory nerve-like mechanisms, and then maybe...
No. Anyway. Two pairs of socks, as often as you can. Don't worry about rewearing them for days in a row. You were just peeing behind the bush next to your parking spot - don't get all prudish on us now. Feet and head - a beanie, a hood - that's where the heat will get away from you. Hello, hat hair. Washing your locks in the sink has never been so daunting as when the water runs icy. Why not skip that step and quarantine them until the season is over?
The final point of the trifecta is hands - wrap em up. If you need your fingers, the answer is fingerless gloves - better yet if you get the ones with the cap you can flip over your hands when you are done using them. No matter how soft and fluffy the plastic feels, wool and organic fibres will almost always keep your hands hotter.
Put on a scarf to look cool (and keep hot your neck, letting your blood pump freely and loudly). Not something itchy, again something woollen is your best friend.
Finally, thermals + pants; long sleeve + singlet + top + jumper; and a warm blanket on your lap over your legs. It sounds simple and yet there are so many ways to get it wrong - love, a person who will do anything to avoid dressing for the weather.
4. Heater? I barely know her
There is a reason this is not recommendation no.1 - not because it is cutting corners, not because of condensation (although that is a real and vicious beast in winter) - but because if you are in a rags and bones van, you don't want to have anyone tell you to 'just buy a heater'. You don't 'just' need a heater. You also need to have the right fuel tank and adapters, an airtight container for the fuel with a vent on one side which leads to outside the van, other aeration at a high and low point of the van to create a circular ventilation system, and a gas detector - to be safe. And you should be safe. Fall asleep once in a van with a gas leak? Goodnight forever. Have improper ventilation or insulation? Good morning to buckets of water within your roof and mould spore heaven (yes... from experience). They are not to be handled lightly - they are a luxury and high maintenance addition which need proper thought and consideration. But hey, once you've considered it - you will know true peace. That's for another article however.
So, off you go. Insulate properly. Don't rush it. Treasure your hot coffees on a cold morning, and treasure walks through the forest where you see your breath crystallise in front of you and drift into the sky, where the grass has frosted over in places and where you can forage fresh mushrooms for dinner from anywhere the foliage grows. Savour your winter and prepare yourselves for Spring. All snow thaws. Buy a hot water bottle.
XX
Miss Andrews