Highway To Heaven

Captivated by the vintage camper vans splashed across social media, Tess Taylor sets out on a family journey through California to discover the unfiltered reality of life in the slow lane.

THIS SPRING, inspired by a mix of real longing and Instagram-fuelled nostalgia, I found myself gripped by the desire to #vanlife it for a while. And not just any van would do: I wanted a vintage VW Westfalia, the cute pop-top camper ubiquitous in the Berkeley of my youth. Maybe I missed childhood, or maybe I’d been seduced by the gauzy road-trip lifestyle pictured on social media , but the dream held an allure I couldn’t shake. I planned a loop of California and found Out Westy, a rental outfit in Santa Cruz that specialises in Westfalias. With our two kids, Bennett, 6, and Emeline, 2, my husband, Taylor, and I primed ourselves to hit the road.

As the trip drew near, I panicked. The pictures I’d seen online tagged #vanlife captured toned influencers doing sun salutations in front of their vans or posing in the wilderness in understatedly fashionable hats. They’d embraced minimalism and a casual rootlessness. Their vans seemed far sexier than mine . Life with two kids makes me a failed minimalist and decidedly rooted. Within minutes of leaving our home, my kids were yelling and throwing pretzels at each other. I grimaced. Four people, one van, 1,900 kilometres? Was this really my idea of fun?

Still, arriving in Santa Cruz, I smiled as we pulled up to Outwesty Camper Vans ( from Ì€ 14,000 per night; outwesty.com) where we were greeted by the shop’s mellow owner, Dave, and his terrier, Benny. Dave, a self-described Westfalia addict who’s been restoring vans for a decade, introduced us to Georgia, a burgundy ’89 automatic. “Can we pop the top?” Bennett called, swinging from the van’s crossbar. Unfazed, Dave showed us the cubbies and the kitchen, the folddown bed and the pop-up roof. We packed our not-so-minimalist life into the tiny spaces, and Dave waved us off.

DAYS 1 – 2