I think the question I get asked most, once people get past "aren't you terrified" and "what about the toilet," is some version of: is it actually cheaper?
I want to give you an honest answer rather than the answer that makes a good headline. So here it is, properly broken down — what we actually spent, and what it actually costs us to live this way every month.
The van itself
I bought Bertha as a large ex-commercial panel van. The biggest van I had ever driven, and certainly the biggest single purchase I had ever made on my own. Prices for vans like this vary enormously depending on age, mileage and condition, but as a rough guide:
- Older high-mileage panel van, roadworthy but needing some work: £4,000–£7,000
- Mid-range panel van, good condition, moderate mileage: £8,000–£14,000
- Newer or low-mileage van: £15,000+
We sat somewhere in the middle of that range. I want to be honest that I underestimated how much extra would be needed almost immediately — an MOT that flags up two or three things you didn't know about is incredibly common with a van that's had a previous life as a work vehicle.
Getting it roadworthy and legal
Before any building work started, there was a list of essentials:
- MOT and any immediate repairs: £200–£800 depending on what comes up
- Road tax: £290–£345 a year for most panel vans
- Campervan-specific insurance: £400–£900 a year
This is the bit nobody mentions enough. Standard van insurance very often does not cover you for living in the vehicle. We had to specifically find insurers who understood what we were doing and price accordingly. It cost more than I expected, but it was non-negotiable.
The build itself
This is where the real money goes, and where the real time goes too. We built in stages, saving for each phase rather than trying to do it all at once — which meant the build took longer, but also meant we never went into debt for it.
Rough costs by category, based on what we've spent so far:
- Insulation: £300–£500 (spray foam plus rigid board for a van this size)
- Electrics: £800–£1,500 (battery, solar, wiring, fuse box, sockets)
- Cladding and flooring: £400–£700
- Furniture and storage builds: £600–£1,200 depending on how much you build yourself versus buy
- Heating: £150–£400 for a diesel air heater setup
- Water system: £150–£350
- Kitchen setup: £200–£500
Add it together and a careful, mostly DIY build sits somewhere between £3,000 and £6,000. Ours has cost more than that because we've made mistakes, redone sections, and occasionally bought something nicer than we strictly needed because Talek has very firm opinions about doing things properly once rather than twice.
What it costs to actually live this way, month to month
This is the part that surprises people the most. Van life is not free. It is differently expensive, and in some categories more expensive than a fixed address, even though the headline cost of "rent" disappears.
- Diesel for the heater and driving: £80–£150 a month depending on season and how much we move around
- Gym membership for showers: £20–£25 a month, genuinely one of the best value things we pay for
- Mobile data: £20–£40 a month, more if you need reliable signal for work
- Food: roughly the same as anyone else, maybe slightly more because batch cooking and storage is more limited
- Campsites and hookup when we want a proper shower and charge everything fully: £15–£25 a night when we use them, though we mix this with free wild camping spots
- Laundry: £10–£15 a week at launderettes
- Insurance and tax: roughly £60 a month averaged out
Total honest monthly running cost, somewhere between £400 and £700 depending on the month and how much we're moving around versus parked up.
So is it actually cheaper?
Compared to renting a one or two bed property in Cornwall, which would realistically cost £900–£1,400 a month before bills, yes — significantly. Compared to a mortgage we could never have qualified for in the first place, the comparison doesn't really apply, because that option simply wasn't available to us.
But I want to be honest about what you're trading. You're trading a fixed monthly cost for a more variable one. You're trading space and permanence for flexibility and a much smaller footprint. Some months cost us less than £400. Some months — when something breaks, which it inevitably will — cost considerably more.
The cost nobody puts in a spreadsheet
There's a cost to van life that doesn't show up in any of these numbers, and it's worth naming honestly: the mental load of always thinking about logistics. Where will we park tonight. Is the battery charged enough. Do we need to find water. Where's the nearest gym for a shower before that appointment.
It's not a complaint. It's just real, and it's part of the actual cost — not in pounds, but in the kind of constant background planning that a fixed address simply removes from your life.
Was it worth it
For us, yes, completely. The maths made sense when nothing else did. We own something instead of paying into a void. We have a base that's genuinely ours. And whatever the spreadsheet says, waking up parked somewhere on the Cornish coast with Tilly curled up at the end of the bed is not something I can easily put a number on.
But it's not free, and it's not always simple, and anyone telling you otherwise is selling you something.
— Wild Coast Mama