When you’re a solo traveller, the only thing that’s going to try to undress you is the wind. Read about day one of my last epic road trip as the High-Functioning Hobo: Vancouver Island to the Hoh National Rainforest. It was nippy.
Whoever decided that living out of your car had to be a messy, stinky, disgusting affair is wrong. Cleanliness is next to godliness–even if you have to spit your toothpaste into a canyon when you’re done brushing.
Last year I lived in my car for three months and three days. Like any experience, there were pros and cons. It’s trying to find those silver linings in everything we go through that I look for, because if life has taught me anything it’s that there’s truth in the adage tragedy + time = comedy. My days were routine, like most people’s. I went to the toilet, brushed my teeth, ate breakfast and worked on my laptop. The only difference was that all of that was done in Starbucks. After breakfast I’d drive down to the shore, put the car in park with the windows down and go for a beach walk or crawl into the back of the car. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was the life I made for myself. A life of waiting.
Not having access to a well-stocked pantry, bank account or kitchen meant I had a somewhat more rigorous diet regime than ever before, and when the days grew shorter, the gym was a nice place to stay warm, watch TV and sit in the hot tub. Exercise was merely a byproduct of the luxury of not being in the rain and not wanting to get kicked out for treating the gym like a movie theatre.
I guess the point of this story is this: bikini bodies can be born from the most unlikely of places, even if it’s from having to wrestle your clothes on while lying down in a car. Show gratitude whenever you can.