In August 2024, my husband Illya and I, along with our then 8-year-old twin daughters, set off from Bristol, UK, heading to Dover and the cross-channel ferry.
We weren’t just going on holiday, though. We were about to start a yearlong adventure, traveling around Europe in our self-built camper van, Phileas.
The plan was that I would continue to run my business — a marketing agency — while Illya, as a stay-at-home dad, would handle homeschooling and the practical side of van life. It seemed foolproof.
After a smooth crossing, we arrived in Dunkirk and parked in one of the convenient and cheap camper car parks that make France such a great place to travel in a van. We spent the evening playing on the beach and eating moules marinière, looking out at the sun setting over the waves.
The children were happy; we were happy. It was off to a good start.
The first bumps in the road
Naively, I had decided against taking any annual leave to ease us into our new life gently. Instead, I had meeting schedules on our first full day on the continent. But when I went to connect my laptop to our internet, I discovered the signal strength was dismal.
Eventually, after much panicking, I found the local tourist office, where I could access free WiFi. Despite using the blurred background tool, random tourists kept popping into view throughout the call. Thankfully, my client was very understanding.
Meanwhile, Illya was on the beach trying to supervise the children while working out how to fix the internet — something that would be a recurring theme throughout the trip and the biggest cause of lost tempers.
It took a while, but we did eventually find a groove. I started waking up early and getting three hours of work in before anyone in the UK was at their desk, then spending the rest of the day switching between meetings and hanging out with my family.
From homeschooling to worldschooling
Meanwhile, homeschooling evolved into something more organic and child-led than I’d anticipated. We did insist that the twins complete a worksheet from their Maths and English books most days, and practice their German on Duolingo. But I think, in the end, they learned far more from our exploration.
Courtesy of Rin Hamburgh
Every time we stepped outside the van was an opportunity to learn something new. A woodland walk in Switzerland set off a deep dive into mushroom identification. A park-up next to an 18th-century watermill on the Loire in France was a chance to discover how flour used to be made.
We climbed Vesuvius, explored Pompeii, and visited the Leonardo Interactive Museum in Florence, where the twins learned about flying machines and codes. But we also went on long hikes, picked wild strawberries, swam in mountain rivers, and built dens in the woods.
All of us learned about different cultures. A month in Morocco, half of it during Ramadan, gave us some of our best memories. For example, we ate a fast-breaking iftar meal with a local family who let us park on their land. We rode camels and rolled down sand dunes in the Sahara Desert.
We discovered that when we tried to force learning, we met resistance. But when we let the children lead, when we fanned the flames of their innate curiosity, they blossomed.
A life-changing experience
As we came to the end of our year of traveling, we gave the children a choice: they could go back to their old school, or they could continue with home education. They opted for the traditional route.
The difference I’ve noticed is in their confidence. They slipped back into playground life easily and have made a bunch of new friends. They play Minecraft and read comics, of course, but they still get excited about hunting for mushrooms on a woodland walk or taking a trip to the local wetland reserve to do some birdwatching.
As for me, life couldn’t be more different. Traveling showed me the balance I needed in my life, and halfway through the trip, I decided to close my business, though it took until our return to wrap everything up. Today, I blend consulting work with being more present at home and as a parent, and I’m writing a book about vanlife for families.
So many people have said to me, “I wish I could do that!” And my answer is always, “Why can’t you?” I’m not going to pretend it’s always easy. But then, nothing worth doing ever is.
Our year of vanlife was the best thing that ever happened to our family. Challenges and all, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
Rin Hamburgh is a brand and content specialist based in Bristol, UK. Connect on LinkedIn.
