What better time to write a retirement blog about life on the road than at a time when we’re not supposed to travel anywhere. At least not in any pleasurable way. The idea of life on the road has always had a vaguely pleasure-oriented feel to it. To me it’s the, sell up all worldly possessions, buy a campervan / mobile home and hit the road wherever that may be, concept that’s so beguiling.
In the stuff of dreams, hitting the road would have a Kerouac flavour to it and we’d be heading to the American west. These days it’s more likely to have a European basis, that’s assuming we’re still allowed into Europe after Brexit. There’s always Scotland but then, from what I read, Scotland is already full of Sassenachs and their Sassenach campervans. I suppose they must hate us. Some weren’t over-friendly when we tried the caravan for 3 weeks, so maybe not Scotland.
We have one set of friends who did buy a campervan when they retired but, as we don’t see much of them these days, I can’t really check whether their freedom retirement plan has worked out. So I have no personal, even second-hand, experience to call upon.
All I have, by way of substitute, is what I read either digitally or in actual books or magazines. I bought a book recently entitled Nomadland by Jessica Bruder. It got a good review in my newspaper. But on reading it, while it was enjoyable to read, it wasn’t quite about what I thought it was going to be about – the freedom of the open road in America. While there was an element of this, the book was more concerned with telling the stories of people who had been forced to live a life on the road rather than made an active choice to do so. Unfortunate circumstances had levered them out of their homes, jobs, families, day to day lives. Pretty sad stories they were too. Almost unbelievable in some ways. Don’t be poor in America seemed to be the message.
Closer to my ideal was a report from BBC website a few weeks back. The headlines were – we sold all our possessions to go live in a van. An, admittedly young, couple telling their story. According to the article the majority of people who were living this particular dream are in the 25 to 35 age group.
And then there is the retirement generation – of course. Us. Both groups are buying a second hand van for anywhere between £1,000 and £28,000 then either converting it themselves (young people) or having it done professionally (the retirement lot). It said, according to Auto Trader, that the average price of second hand vans had increased by 20% over the last few months. And to think I nearly sold ours. It sits waiting for its conversion. At the moment it has an old wardrobe and a pile of logs and a portaloo (the first thing I bought to begin to live the dream) of van life in it, but otherwise it’s ready. Maybe.
So every time I read a book or come across an article about life on the open road, that tiny tinge of using our retirement to pursue the long-lasting dream of the freedom of the open road, raises its tiny head. Maybe this lockdown business has made the prospect of the far distant horizon seem all the more attractive. Maybe because we can’t travel I feel able to dream safe in the knowledge I won’t have my bluff called. As somebody did, my dog-walking chum a few weeks ago, who said well get on with it then. What’s stopping you?
Courage mon brave, a lack of, that’s what is stopping me. Well, that and a sneaking feeling that what we’ve got right now isn’t a bad deal at all. And what’s so great about freedom anyway? Freedom, well that’s just some people talking as The Eagles sang in Desperado. Your prison is walking through this world all alone.
And while we’re on the wise words from song lyrics let me just throw in Bob Dylan’s contribution – but ‘is a bird free from the sky?’ Unfortunately I can’t remember which song this line was from but his point I think, is that none of us are really free so don’t even think about doing up the old banger and heading down the road again. As Willie Nelson sang on his 16 Biggest Hits CD, on the road again, just can’t wait to get on the road again, the life I love is making music with my friends, and I can’t wait to get on the road again. Track from the above CD.
I’ll go along with the making music bit, but not on the road and I haven’t got any friends (other than the distant ones above), so just forget the van idea. If I must chose ways to enjoy my retirement time then get yourself up to the attic and play along again to Willie and his album, which is what I’ve been doing anyway. That’s quite enough of a challenge for me.
I mean being on the road didn’t help Canned Heat did it? That strange falsetto voice and, well I’m so tired of crying but I’m out on the road again. Not sure that’s going to help but given I haven’t been crying there’s no need for me to be on the road again not from that point of view.
Well, when I look back at where this retirement blog has taken me, and I never know where that might be when I start, it feels like I need all the stability I can get. Forget the freedom and all that grass is greener stuff. Just calm down lad, as they say in these parts.