“Don’t you get bored?”

Ah yes. That question. It always comes with that slightly concerned look. And it almost always comes from someone who has never spent a single night in a van. From the outside, I get it. Vanlife looks like a permanent vacation.
No office, no fixed schedule, no meetings
Just sunsets, freedom, and suspiciously photogenic coffee mugs. And in many people’s heads, vacation eventually turns into boredom. But, when asked the Bore question, here’s my standard answer: Boredom doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. And honestly? Boredom usually shows up when people don’t know what to do with themselves. There’s this assumption that without a traditional 9–5 structure, your days must be empty. Like if nobody tells you what to do, you’ll just sit there… waiting. But vanlife doesn’t work like that. Vanlife isn’t a permanent holiday. It’s just life — on four wheels. And life comes with routines. Real ones. At the beginning, sure, it feels a bit strange. You wake up and think, “Okay… now what?” There’s no commute. No calendar reminder. No external pressure pushing you into motion. It’s just you, and suddenly you’re responsible for your entire day. But here’s the funny part: once you accept that, the days fill themselves. For me, mornings start between eight and nine. No alarm. Just light sneaking through the windows. I open the doors, let the air in, make coffee. Then breakfast. A bit of stretching — because living in a small metal box does interesting things to your spine. Maybe reading the news or just sitting there, looking outside thinking about……… And before long, it’s already eleven or twelve. Then the glamorous vanlife reality kicks in. Because yes — there is housework. And in a tiny space, you cannot ignore it. There is no “I’ll deal with it later.” Later becomes chaos very quickly. So: cleaning, vacuuming, wiping surfaces, reorganizing storage for the third time because apparently I own one spoon too many. And then come the invisible jobs nobody romanticizes on Instagram: Emptying grey water, cleaning the toilet, refilling fresh water, planning the next grocery stop because supermarkets don’t magically appear in the wilderness. None of this happens on autopilot and it takes time. Even when nothing urgent is screaming for attention, there’s always something you could do: like plan the next route, research the next destination, find hiking trails, edit photos, answer emails, and finally fix that one tiny thing in the van that’s been “fine” for weeks but slightly annoying. Vanlife is hands-on living. It’s active. You are involved in your own survival and comfort every single day. And when — miracle of miracles — everything is done? Then I can go for a walk, cycling, or sit by the water with a book.
And here’s the part most people misunderstand: Boredom often comes from expecting to be entertained, from waiting for something external to stimulate you. In vanlife, that expectation fades. You become the planner, the worker, the problem-solver, the dreamer — all in one. Yes, sometimes it’s quiet. But quiet doesn’t mean boring. Quiet means intentional. Many people confuse the absence of constant distraction with boredom. In vanlife, even when the routine stays the same, the surroundings change. The light, the weather and the view outside your door changes. And that alone makes each day feel slightly different.

So no — I don’t get bored.

That’s something I left behind somewhere between office hours and apartment keys.

So, when people ask if I get bored? I just smile.