Time Flies

Where has the time gone?

On Sunday night I drove to Rye and enjoyed an evening with my dear friends M&T, and on the way home I nipped to Camber, where I used to live, and savoured a moonlit walk on the beach just over the dunes from the beautiful, designer Eco-house that used to be mine.

Walking Dougal today I thought about that beautiful house. While I do miss it, I don't miss all the reasons why I sold it and moved into the Airstream full-time.

So when did I move into my Airstream for good? A year ago? Two years ago? Nope. It was THREE years ago. Three!

Where has the time gone?

Well, there have been a few major life-events that were unforeseen. One of these was losing Dad and everything that entailed, from his end of life care, sorting through all his stuff, and then of course helping Mum move out of the big family house and into a smaller place where she could start her new life. Just so you know, she is absolutely fine and loving her new pad.

The other unforeseen life event was embarking on a University Course in Scottish Gaelic. Where'd that come from? Two years ago I started the foundation course out of interest, and here we are two years on almost half way through an intensive CertHE course that might be the footings for my first ever degree. The amount of work is a bit crazy right now, with assessments on top of the normal course work.

So much for only working two days a week in 'The Day Job'.

What gets to me, though, is that I open the garage doors at my Mum's new pad, and filling up a substantial corner of it is all my STUFF. Still! Stuff that, for the past three years, I have been meaning to sort out. I've had a bit of a sort through, and when it came to stuff like my snowboarding kit that has gone unused for three years, I looked at how much it was worth on eBay (less than the cost of ONE week's hire) and promptly put it back in Mum's garage 'just in case'. Well, I don't *HAVE* to empty the garage.

This winter, with no dramas scheduled and fortunately none occurring, I thought I would at last have the spare time to get 'everything' sorted. I even took my Winter Hebrides break before Christmas to give me a clear run after the new year arrived. Just like last year, I have parked the Airstream on a 'seasonal' pitch from October to March which means I don't have to pay any time or attention to where I will be staying. It's nice to relax and breathe a bit after a summer of roving around.

However, for one reason or another, that 'spare time' never materialised. The box of CDs still awaits sorting to go to Music Magpie. The photo albums still await scanning. The boxes of books still await sorting.

While on that walk today with Dougal, it also sunk in that in a shade under two week's time I shall be hitching up the Airstream for a three-month study/work/holiday tour of Scotland. I've already got the motorbike ready. I have two free days - count them, TWO - to get everything sorted and packed and ready before leaving, as every other day I will be at work earning those credits in order to take an extended period of leave. Tomorrow I will be packing away my winter coat and getting out my shorts, sandals, and a summer shirt or two to pack in the 'van. Dougal has 48 cans of his favourite German dog food on order to arrive before we leave. My kitesurfing kit is about to be strapped to the car roof. Winter is over and it's time to wake up and get out there again.

Sandals? Shorts? Kitesurfing? What happened to winter? Where did it go? I thought winter went on forever and you could get tons of stuff done?

Where has the time gone?

George Clarke's Amazing Spaces

November 2012

Rarely indeed do I watch TV. I don't even have one, so normally rely on other people's sets, or streaming over the internet. Catch-Up is a marvellous thing.

One program that is on at the moment, and one that interests me greatly, is George Clarke's Amazing Spaces on Channel 4 on a Tuesday evening. I love it.

It's a truly inspiration prog exploring many kinds of small spaces, from a beach hut to a static caravan, from teeny budgets of a couple of hundred pounds to massive £100k+ budgets.

Two of my favourite projects so far have been the woodland cabin and the beach hut. And, interestingly enough, these two were the cheapest. Which I guess requires far more inspiring ingenuity than simply signing a cheque.

Funnily enough, I'm not alone in my love of this wonderful programme. Look at social media and its evident that the fan base of Amazing Spaces is growing rapidly.

Which brings me around to the thoughts I'm having about it. I do wonder how many people watch the programme, see the spaces created, then look around at their own unmanageable and cluttered houses? The small spaces that George examines, be it an Airstream or a converted shipping container, show just how little we really need.

Living in a small space, it becomes terribly important to be lumbered down with as few encumbrances (aka STUFF) as possible. I once tried to live in a 6ftx12ft caravan and a small coupe car, yet in this tiny rig I carried about the massive amount of kit needed to pursue my windsurfing hobby. Despite the fact that all the stuff that I carted around could (just about) physically fit into the car and caravan, everything I ended up needing was always hiding in a box under a pile of other boxes. Tiresome, and a major source of frustration. The small space is only the start. You then have to shrink your life to fit.

My decluttering process is ongoing. I started nine months ago, and it's covered in the blog entry here.

Now winter is here, it's time for the next stage of decluttering. More on that a later date.

If, like me, you are a massive fan of George Clarke and his amazing Amazing Spaces, lend a thought to the wider implications of how simple life could be.

For many of us, finding and converting the space is the easy thing. Ditching all the stuff so that we live freely and unencumbered in that small space… that's not so easy.

Dominoes and dog-friendly accommodation

Life would have been so much simpler had the Airstream been on hand while I moved out of my house. But it wasn't. It was in Gloucester. Despite the fact it was all serviced and ready for me to collect, I simply couldn't afford the three days it would have taken to go pick it up. As it was, I ended up with long days and little sleep the week I had to leave the house.

After a week or two holed up at the parents' surrounded by boxes of rubbish, at last it was time to take a couple of weeks out and start establishing my new life in the Airstream. Only start, as I had a three-week trip to the Hebrides planned in March, and having been blown off the beach at Baleshare the previous October and going four days without sleep, I was doing it in hotels and cottages this time.

To complicate matters, it's not just me decluttering my life. A knock-on effect is that I'm helping my parents get rid of some stuff to, in order to make room for the little bit of stuff that I'll be keeping at theirs. It's a kind of domino effect.

They had boxes and boxes of vinyl records to get rid of. And fortunately I found them a good home with my good buddy Mat who was nothing short of delighted to receive them. But it meant I'd have to fill my car with records when going to get the Airstream, as Mat would meet me in Gloucester to collect them. So I could only take the bare minimum of stuff for my fortnight away in the Airstream. Which was completely empty and had nothing in it as I'd removed the stuff prior to the service to do the Dunster House Concordia project the previous November.

UGH!

Have you any idea how much space a double duvet takes up in a car? Or a rat cage? Or a dog crate?

But it was lovely to see Mat, albeit briefly, and we had a nice evening in Gloucester.

Dougal the Dog is a new addition in my life, so now when I stay in hotels I need somewhere that is dog-friendly. But I also want somewhere affordable, clean, and comfortable.

Premier Inn? Forget it, they don't allow dogs. Travelodge? Well, they take dogs, but at a charge of £20. That can be more than the room.

So thank goodness for the Accor Group, better know by its hotel brands of Ibis, Novotel, and Mercure. Many of their hotels allow dogs, and the Ibis doesn't even make a charge.

Mat and I were both delighted with the Ibis Gloucester. Clean, smart, modern, comfortable, reasonably-priced, and wonderfully friendly staff. We were so impressed and comfortable their we even ended up eating in the hotel restaurant.

Natually it's a lot more spendy, and less convenient than staying in a caravan. Lots of trips to and fro the room unpacking and re-loading the car the next day. But when needs must, Ibis definitely gets the thumbs-up.

Fulltiming - A slow start

With the door finally shut on my bricks-and-mortar existence, the move to becoming a full-timing Airstreamer was a slow, staggered one. In fact, it is still very much a work in progress.

I recently met up with a couple of dear fulltiming friends, J&C, who decided 15 years ago to sell-up and live out their retirement on the road. It's always a pleasure to spend time in the company of such lovely and like-minded folk.

More than once at the previous UKAirstreamers' Gathering had I heard the comment 'So you're settled into fulltiming now.' Funnily enough, that comment was repeated only by people who weren't actually doing it themselves. Those who were living in their Airstreams made no such well-intentioned comment.

There are some people who seem to be able to just be able to do things straight away. You know the kind, they make a plan then just go off and do it, while everything seems to fall magically into place. If they go off on a trip, they can pack their bags in five minutes and be out of the door.

I, I'm afraid, am not one of those people. Even a simple day trip seems to take hours of planning and preparation. 'Have I got my camera? Are the batteries charged? Oh no, it looks like I need to charge the battery. What about my phone? Oh yes, that needs plugging in too. Dog stuff? Ah yes, the poo bags, the kitchen roll and antiseptic wipes in case of accidents in inappropriate places, the water bowl, the travel towel, the lead… I must remember my train pass. And my wallet. And a water bottle. And a flask. And a bag of treats for the dog. Will we be out long enough I need to take the dog's dinner too? And some snacks for me in case there's no cafe on the way. Not forgetting of course the laptop or iPad. And the internet dongle. And the charger lead. Phone charger! Have I fed the rats…?' And so on, and so on.

Such activity can be surmised as the art of faffing. And my goodness, I can faff. I can faff for England. Some people are slick, but I faff.

When slick people start their full-timing lives, I envisage that they lock the doors of their homes, drop the keys at the estate agents, hitch up their Airstream. and off they drive into their new lives with barely a passing thought to their previous existence. How I wish I could be like that. But I'm not.

It turns out that J&C had two years (two years!) living in a static caravan getting themselves prepared and set-up for their life on the road. I didn't feel so bad about the fact that, three months into my new life, I still felt in a complete state of turmoil.

Not emotional turmoil I hasten to add. Almost four months down the line since giving up my house I'm still 100% content and confident that this is the right thing for me to do. But there is still quite a lot of STUFF to sort out. Stuff...that tedious, heavy, dragging anchor of material possessions that is slowly dwindling, but doesn't magically evaporate when you hit the road. Granted, I could just take three months out and deal with it. But what a waste of springtime. And a man needs to work of course. I still need food on my plate and diesel in the truck.

It was early February that I moved out of my house and into the Airstream. In just over three months I'd say that I'm well over half way there. But I reckon it will be February next year at the earliest that I'll be settled into it with something approaching the kind of slick minimalism for which I ache and yearn.

It's a slow process if you have a life to lead while you're doing it. It took 25 years to build up the amount of stuff that I need to deal with. To have it sorted in a little over 12 months is actually pretty good going when you look at it that way.

Fulltiming Preparation

First of all, what is 'fulltiming'?

It's a term applied to spending an extended period of time living in a mobile leisure vehicle, be it a touring caravan or a motorhome. It's not to be confused with being a 'traveller' or living in a semi-permanent trailer like a park home or on a 'trailer park'.

Although some folks end up full-timing by default (the classic example is as a result of marriage breakdown), for the overwhelming majority it's a conscious lifestyle choice. It is sticking up two fingers to not only thinking inside the box, but at being trapped inside the box too. Fulltimers are truly free.

Me, I've been fulltiming on and off for about 10 years in a variety of caravans in a variety of ways. The past few years saw me fulltiming (or, as some called it, 'part-timing') for seven months of the year during the warmer months, then retreating to bricks and mortar for the winter.

Now that the house was to be sold, it was time to once again consider fulltiming.

But this time it was to be different. Very different.

All outward appearances look the same… living in the Airstream most of the year, and renting a cottage or two in pretty places for a couple of extended periods in the winter.

So why should this time be any different?

This time, I was setting up life to be free. Truly free. And that meant free of the burden of extraneous possessions.

Every time I've moved out of a house and into a caravan, I've always done so with the full intention of moving back into a house within the foreseeable future. But a couple of things have happened along the way…

In 2002, the intention was to spend six months in Tarifa in Spain. Yet I was back in the UK after three months. Why? Because the friend who had kindly offered to store a lot of my stuff unexpectedly decided to move house. While she COULD have moved all my rubbish as well, it would have been unfair of me to expect her to do so. So it was a 2,000 mile trip back…

Meanwhile, I had other stuff in various people's lofts and garages. So I was dependent on those people allowing me access to it. And I had to remember what was where. After three years, as I moved back into my house, I realised that I was moving stuff - again - that I had never even used. And probably never would.

Fast forward to 2009. My new next door neighbours had a story. They had got together five years previously, and decided to move in together. They sold one of the properties - a gorgeous warehouse conversion in London - and moved into a rented flat 'for a few months'. So all the expensive furniture and fittings from the warehouse flat went into storage.

'A few months' turned into five years. The bill for storage came to… wait for it… £7,000. And, funnily enough, when they finally moved into the beach house next door to mine, they found that none of the furniture from a trendy city warehouse conversion suited the house. Most of it was then disposed of. £7k down the swanny. 

The message here is abundantly clear, isn't it? Possessions can be an absolute pain in the jacksy. We covert them and then we are owned by them, not the other way around.

I'm not talking about the things that bring value into our lives, be it the gorgeous vase that sits in proud view on the mantelpiece, or the funny fridge magnet that makes us smile every time we see it. I'm talking about the stuff that once had value, or possibly might have value in the future, so it's hidden away in a box somewhere.

I'm talking about the old stereo that we still have after 10 years in the loft. The pile of photography magazines that we 'really will' look at again some day. The blunt tools in the shed that might come in handy one day.


As I looked around my 'personal' room in the house at all these boxes of STUFF, I felt quite heavy of heart. The urge to rent storage was overwhelming. But to rent a 7ft x 5ft room in a proper storage facility was going to cost the best part of £70 per month by the time you add insurance and stuff. That's getting on for £1000 per year. The irony was, there wasn't £1000 worth of stuff to store anyway!

Having these figures in my head made decluttering and getting rid of stuff far easier. But I still needed some strength and inspiration from an external source as well as from within.

Fortunately I found it in the book 'The Joy of Less' by Francine Jay.




http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B003UNJX4S/ref=docs-os-doi_0

Naturally, it's downloaded to Kindle on my iPad to reduce the clutter.

I really like this book and recommend it to anyone who acknowledges the need to cut down on stuff, but doesn't quite know how to go about it.

The hardest part? I threw away my old teddy bears, and I threw away the jumper that my beloved Nan knitted for me as a teenager. It still makes me feel a bit wretched to think of that even now, three months later. But, I have to admit, I also feel just that little bit less bogged down. It also helps that my Nan was a minimalist, and I could hear her voice in my head saying 'What do you want to keep that thing for? Get rid of it!'. She'd be very disappointed to think that something she gave me was weighing me down. And you know what? I don't need a jumper I'll never wear to remember what a wonderful person my Nan was, and the lovely times we had together.

Time ran out before I was ready, and the completion date loomed. My possessions filled the car four times. That's still pretty good, but still not good enough. There's still some way to go.

The rats and their stuff take up a lot of space, and I've decided now that Dougal Dog is in my life, I'll not get any more rats when my current two shuffle off. But that will hopefully be a while away yet. I have boxes and boxes of magazines in my parent's loft, all of which I have an article in. I need to keep them for the taxman and also for my own enjoyment. But what I really need to do is digitise them… but can you imagine just how long that will take? Ditto the photo albums.

A typical scene from two nights away... although only the rucksack and wheely bag is my stuff, the rest is pet related!



Full-timing epitomises going against the 'norm'. So it makes sense that decluttering and living an anti-consumption life goes hand-in-hand with it. We live in a world where we are bombarded with messages telling us that the more we possess, the happier we are. Deep down, we all know that that's not the case. The sad thing is, it means that you ALWAYS have to be on the defensive, which is time and energy consuming. I have already entered arguments and disappointed people who are trying to give me something for 'free' that I don't want.

I can't promise that decluttering will make you happy, and it's not for everybody. Some people aren't happier than when surrounded by lots of knick-knacks and their bits and bobs. 

But for me, so far I am feeling far lighter and freer. Still a long way to go, and it can be uncomfortable at times, but it's an exciting journey.