When Scott got his first apartment, he shared it with a dude who lied a lot — but there was one thing he told the truth about: his family had an old ambulance and they were going to let him drive it to pick up crappy furniture from the Value Village in Cambridge. Fun!


Ambulances are not romantic. They are metal boxes. But when you're seventeen years old and a boy who's grown up enough to have a scratchy beard wants to kiss you in said metal box, you go along for the ride! 🥰

There was a metal table (stretcher?) but that's all that was left of the original interior fittings; so, while the liar and his girl rode up front, the kissing bandit and I snogged in the back. On a metal table. Of course, the joke was on us, because on the way home, we switched: we drove while the other couple hid in the back. With the 'new' couch. I'm sure their ambulance experience was much softer than ours. They got soft rock. We got heavy metal. 

When we began talking about a trip to Eastern Canada with extended family, purchasing a travel vehicle didn't occur to us. We were on board with the idea and discussed needing to get a roof storage system in order to take our little Sonic all the way to PEI.

It wasn't until Scott discussed the trip plans with his co-workers and someone said, "Hey, you should buy Norma's ambulance," that our vanlife journey really began.

The ambulance had been converted into a little camper with a double bed in the back and huge storage beneath. A young couple had set it up to be their sleeping quarters while tree planting in northern Ontario. It had only a driver's seat and a passenger seat, but upon seeing it, we were confident we could set it up to accommodate our family.

And they only wanted $1500 for it — a steal! We planned to use our tax return money to cover the cost of purchasing, certifying, and licensing - and then the leftover to do whatever modifications it needed for our family.

The couple who owned it hitchhiked the eight hours from Ottawa to clean it out and meet with us. Because the diesel engine had sat unused all winter we had to borrow a charger from a neighbouring farm and wait a while until it would start, but once it did... oh, that sweet growling purr.



My uncle owns a shop not far from where the ambulance had been parked, so we made arrangements with him to drop it off for a pre-safety, feeling wonderfully confident that it would need very little before we could take it into our possession.

We took the trip down Blue Mountain in the pouring rain, Scott driving the beast with Liam in the passenger seat, and me following along behind, visions of summertime and renovations dancing in my head.

"Don't get your hopes too high," Zander told me — forever the logical one, as if his seventeen years have given him wisdom he hasn't really earned. An old soul, that one.

"I know, I know," I told him. "But look at it. It's so fun!"



"I just want to take it home right now!" Scott said after he'd parked it at the shop.

I felt the same way.

We made the drive home, and then a week of obsession began. I spent hours doing drawings, trying to design the best way to seat and sleep five. I lost sleep over it because ideas were swirling through my brain.

So that was it. My heart was set.

They say you shouldn't fall in love with the first person you see, and while that's great advice, I'm a hopeless romantic. Heavy metal, remember?! 😆 


WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?...