The freedom, the adventure, the idea of parking anywhere and calling it home–it’s been on my mind for as long as I can remember. Life, as it often does, got in the way. Work, a growing family, and the endless grind meant my dream had to wait. But now, with our toddler starting to walk, my wife keen on an adventure, and our dog always ready to explore, I finally had a window to make it happen.
We had a relatively tight €15k budget, so a factory-built camper was out of the question. I also didn’t fancy getting one of those boxy 1990’s mobile homes that you see choking up the roads every summer. The plan was simple: buy an empty panel van and turn it into a camper myself. That way, we’d have as modern a van as possible, which in turn would be faster and more fuel efficient. In the end, we bought a 2011 Mercedes Sprinter. We call him Scrappy. Scrappy’s not glamorous, but he’s modern enough to avoid constant repairs and roomy enough for a growing family.
The first few steps were... honestly, a blast. Cleaning the van out, adding insulation, and planning the layout gave me a sense of accomplishment. My toddler loved sitting in the front, pretending we were already off on our grand adventure. I could see it so clearly–three weeks next summer, exploring the countryside, making memories.
Then came the furniture. I’ve always thought of myself as a handy guy, and I wasn’t aiming for perfection–just something practical. I figured I’d start small, with a kitchen unit and a fixed double bed at the back. But after two weekends of cutting, drilling, and muttering to myself, the kitchen unit was still only half-finished. Worse, it looked... well, amateur.
“Pierre,” my wife said one evening as she surveyed my handiwork, “if it all looks like this, you’ll have a hard time selling it.” She wasn’t being mean, just honest. And she was right. I was cooked. Even if I wanted to, I didn’t have the time to start over from scratch. And I couldn’t afford to quit and hire a carpenter to build it for me.
And then, Instagram swooped in. I swear, sometimes it feels like the app is listening to your conversations. Ads for a company called Simple Vans started popping up on my feed. Normally, I’d find that creepy, but this time, I was intrigued. This furniture was clean, modern, and–best of all–looked like something I could actually assemble.
Only one problem... they didn’t have kits for large vans. I wasn’t ready to give up, though, so I decided to call them. Ben, the founder, answered. We started chatting, and I explained my situation: a large van, a small budget, a tight deadline, and a serious need for help. “You’re in luck,” Ben said. “We’re working on a plus-sized range right now, and we’re looking for a Guinea Pig to road test some prototypes. Keen?”
I was Keen as mustard. A few days later, a stack of flat-pack boxes arrived. Before I even opened the boxes, I was pleasantly surprised by the weight: Simple Vans use lightweight Poplar plywood, and I had no problem carrying the boxes to the back of the van.