I’ve been traveling full time with the national tour of the Lion King for almost six years.
That’s over 50 cities in over 30 states lived in. That’s thousands upon thousands of miles driven. That’s tens of fiberglass dinosaur roadside attractions visited.
And now, to complete my wander-kitch-lust lifestyle, we are living in an RV for the next three weeks.
It’s a short experiment to see if I can live with my boyfriend, pitt/mastiff puppy and bengal kitty for almost a month in less than 100 square feet of space, and to see if I like it enough to entertain the idea of buying one to tour full time.
Or, if you would rather:
The true story…
… of one thirty-something couple (and their pets)…
… choosing to live in an RV…
…travel the country together and have their lives blogged about…
…to find out what happens when people stop being polite…
… and start living in an RV.
The RV Life- Day One
After struggling though Montreal’s rush hour traffic, we were an hour late picking up our rig. Bursting into the Cruise Canada office (Cruise America’s more polite, Northern cousin?) we must have looked crazy. We had just finished packing up our lives and driving up from DC for the past 10 hours, not to mention the fact that we are not… how do you say.. their usual RV clientele?
But got away with renting our rig without an AARP card-validating-incident and drove it across the city to our campground. Well, I guess I should say that Phil drove it as I tore ahead in our Prius. Turns out, RV’s don’t corner as well as say, a small hybrid coupe. Whoops.
After a slightly hair-raising ride, we pulled into the KOA and set up camp. Phil quickly hooked up our water and electric lines (apparently it’s as easy as it sounds, according to him), we ‘stole’ a picnic table from another unoccupied site (apparently this is par for the course for camp grounds, considering many sites had two picnic tables and others had none…) and we unpacked our Prius into the 30 foot C class rig.
Home sweet home. For three weeks.
Before laid eyes on our rig, I was worried that all of my junk wouldn’t fit. (Where oh where would my archery set go?!) But turns out, my worries were all for naught. We fit all of our gear (read: mostly my junk. Phil’s stuff fits into precisely three tiny cabinets) in the RV’s cabin and below deck ‘basement’ storage and ended up with tons of room to spare.
We did some light grocery shopping, as the fridge is small and apparently (as Phil explained it to my non-Physics brain) pulls cool air and moisture from the ambient air, thereby cooling the fridge interior. But this system doesn’t keep the fridge as cool as much as a traditional fridge would.
Translation: It’s not that cold, or big, so grocery shop accordingly.
RV Life- Day Two
We woke up for a long day at the theater (Our first day in a city consists of an early morning meeting -read: 10 am, AKA early for entertainers- a dress rehearsal, and a show. LONG day.) but before we went I had a quick bowl of cereal. As I sat at the tiny kitchenette, I noticed the slight rake at which my milk was resting. It was as if my milk was rolling uphill, to my right, towards the rim of my bowl.
“The rig is slanted.” I declared. The more I stared down the length of the interior, the more I felt the lean. “No way.” Phil replied, but by then my vertigo and nausea had set it. “No. It is leaning. I can feel it. I feel sick.”
“I’m sure you think you feel sick…” was his reply.
But sure enough, after an hour of adjusting the RV by shoving gravel around under the RV tires by hand, I came home after my long day at the theater to a perfectly level RV. Phil knows that whether it’s true or not, if Selena is feeling a certain way, it’s true enough for it to be acted upon.
RV Life- Day Three
So apparently, it is possible to take showers in the RV.
Showering, RV style.
It is not possible, however, to take long showers in the RV.
I initially resisted walking the twenty yards to the communal bathrooms. “I’m not going back to my collegiate days of sharing showers,” I sniffed.
But after a slightly chilly ten minute shower in our rig, I decided to give it a try.
And you know what? It’s not that bad!
Modern sinks! Ooo la la!
It’s a brand new communal building with nicely lit, securely locking showers, featuring cute, modern inlay tiling in grey and black neutrals.
There’s even a really cute common area to wash dishes, use a stove or oven, and get all your foosball/air hockey/pool table needs met too!
Not bad. Not bad at all…
RV Life- Day Six
Meals have been a slightly modified experience, due to the aforementioned tiny-and-not-completly-freezing fridge and smallish kitchen area. But honestly, Phillip has been keeping me extremely well fed.
Maybe even a little too well fed.
See, there’s also this little fire pit outside that comes with your campground. And a few nights this week I’ve come home to a roaring little fire waiting for me, courtesy of my wonderful boyfriend. But the surprises don’t end there.
The first night I rolled up to our little conflagration, Phil had whittled (or just sharpened, I guess) a marshmallow stick to make authentic campfire s’mores. I prefer them on the burned side, and his tiny sharpened spears were just the right size for the job.
The next night, I came home to hot dogs in sliced bread buns. (There weren’t any hotdog buns in the campground store, apparently. But we managed.) And of course, s’mores for dessert.
While all of this campfire fare makes my mouth extremely happy, it’s making my waistline extremely soft….
But let’s be clear. I’m definitely complaining about it.