Why we chose life on the road
Not a grand dream of world travel, but a need for space and peace. This is how it started for us.
Leuven, Vlaams-Brabant
By Lisa Mertens · 6 June 2026
People often think you choose life on the road because you want to leave everything behind. Because you're fed up with society, because you want to drive to the other side of Europe, or because you have a romantic idea of freedom.
For us, it was much simpler than that.
We lived in the city, and on paper, everything was fine. We had an apartment, jobs, friends nearby, shops around the corner, and a calendar that always filled up. Yet, it felt like we were constantly playing catch-up. There was always noise. Always something that had to be done. Always new things accumulating, plans shifting, and days passing without us truly pausing.
It didn't start with a big decision. More with a feeling that kept coming back. We needed less than we thought, but lived as if we always had to accumulate more. More comfort, more space, more security, more things to keep track of. And at the same time, we increasingly longed for the opposite: fewer stimuli, less clutter, less 'having to'.
The first time we went away for a weekend in a borrowed van, that's when it really hit us. We weren't far from home, somewhere on the edge of a forest. Not a spectacular place, not a trip anyone would put on a bucket list. But in the morning, we slid the door open, drank coffee with cold hands, and heard only birds and wind through the trees.
That moment stuck with us.
Not because everything was perfect. The van was messy, we had brought too much, and we'd lost half our belongings in bags and bins. But still, it felt lighter. We had little space, and precisely because of that, everything became clearer. What do you really use? What do you actually not miss? What makes a day good?
After that weekend, we started looking at our apartment differently. Closets full of things we hardly ever used. Subscriptions we didn't think about. Weekends that were fully planned before they even began. We didn't suddenly hate our lives, but we did feel that things could be different.
The choice for vanlife didn't come from an escape, then. It came from curiosity. What if we lived smaller? What if we were outside more often? What if home didn't always have to be one fixed place? What if peace wasn't something you had to take two weeks of vacation for, but something you could consciously build into your ordinary life?
To be honest, the first few months on the road took some getting used to. You quickly learn that simplicity isn't the same as ease. Everything needs a place. Water runs out. Batteries need charging. Rain makes a small space even smaller. And if you're poorly organized, you're immediately confronted with that in a van.
But that same small space also teaches you a lot. You buy less, because you have nowhere to put it. You think more carefully before you bring something along. You become more creative. You notice more quickly when you have enough. And you start to appreciate things that used to seem self-evident: a warm shower, dry socks, a quiet night, morning light through a window.
We don't travel far or fast. That was never the goal. Often, we just stay in Belgium. A weekend in the Ardennes, a quiet spot in Limburg, a walk somewhere in Flemish Brabant, a few days on the coast out of season. For us, vanlife isn't about covering as many kilometers as possible. It's about how a day feels.
Sometimes that's a day where we wake up early and go for a walk right away. Sometimes it's a lazy morning with coffee, a book, and rain on the roof. Sometimes we only drive twenty kilometers, and that feels like enough. We might have thought in the past that travel only counts if it's grand. Now we know that peace is often closer than you think.
What has changed us the most isn't the van itself. It's the rhythm. Life on the road forces you to make more conscious choices. Where do you settle down? What do you bring? How do you use your time? What do you need to feel good? You can live less on autopilot, and that's sometimes confronting, but usually healthy.
We still have ordinary days. Days when it rains, when something breaks, when we sleep poorly, or when we just don't feel like being practical. Vanlife doesn't magically solve your life. It doesn't automatically make you freer, happier, or simpler. You have to keep choosing that yourself.
But it does help.
It helps because you live closer to the outdoors. Because you notice more quickly when you're carrying too much. Because a small space makes you honest. Because you learn that comfort doesn't always have to be bigger. And because an open door to a quiet landscape sometimes does more than an entire evening scrolling on the couch.
Why did we choose life on the road? Because we were looking for space. Not just space around us, but also in our minds. Because we were tired of always faster, fuller, and busier. Because we wanted to discover how much you actually need to live well.
And perhaps that answer is still changing. Every drive, every night, and every morning on the road adds a new layer to it. But for now, this feels right.
Not perfect. Not always easy. But calmer. More honest. And much more us.