Usually the consideration of how to live in a vehicle revolves around the type of vehicle required and a great many people who ponder becoming van dwellers, voluntarily at least, ponder the machinery of this way of life. Imagine sticking this Lance 650 on the back of your four wheel drive pick up, for $35,000 you could go anywhere.
Or if you would like to set up camp in the wilderness and drive your four by four into town for supplies you might prefer this:
Pretty cool eh? The variations are endless and in summer you’ll see a thousand identical all wheel drive Sprinter vans trundling down the highways to the hip locations, quarter million dollar machines factory built to feed the imagination of young wealthy new generation campers. You can spend a lifetime watching YouTube and going to Overland shows figuring out what you need, or want or wish you could afford. Or you can get on with it. Go to South America and buy a van for $12,000 ready to go in Chile:
Our van was designed by us to do two things, be a home and take us on the road avoiding campgrounds and plug ins most of the time. We knew our goal was Patagonia but we also knew we weren’t looking for a vehicle dedicated to just one journey.
This meant we had to plan ahead to live and travel in places where RV facilities are rare or non existent and where repairs could at best be bodged. So we skipped hot running water, a built in toilet and complex electronics.
We wanted a separate toilet compartment. A home isn’t a home if it doesn’t have a toilet, or worse yet if you have to pull the toilet into the middle of the living room floor to take a shit. Even married couples need time alone. And I am not going to join the composting toilet fad because it is complex and to my mind unsatisfactory.
We put baking soda, cheap and found everywhere in the world, in the toilet for the smell as RV fancy chemicals aren’t available in Latin America. We put our used toilet paper in a separate trash can so our chemical-free sewage can be emptied anywhere, pit toilets, public baños, cat holes without fear of ruining enzymes and cesspools and so forth. Or leaving a toilet paper trail in pristine woods. Don’t like dealing with your waste? You’ll get used to it which is easy for me to say as it doesn’t bother me at all and never has. 
RV shows will display the latest fancy inline water filters and ultra violet water cleaning systems but you better believe they don’t sell them or repair them south of the Rio Grande…
…so we use a Berkey filter which is said to be good for years and thousands of gallons. Naturally their proprietary filters were copied and sold online for a fraction of the price (and this system isn’t cheap) and smart alecs who saved money found they were cheated and sued Berkey! We carry a spare set of filters and buy purified water for our tank when we can which is always in Latin America and even Layne’s compromised immune system has had no problems. But again, it isn’t automatic and you have to be prepared to go through the steps to use it.
In Mexico we siphon purified water but in the US we plug in our hose which is too easy.
I have become so used to traveling in GANNET2 I find myself wondering where my amenities are when I’m in a car. In the van I can make a cup of tea waiting for Layne to shop, I can use the toilet parked on a street and I do, and as we cruise the freeway my co-pilot can bring me a cold drink from the fridge or make a sandwich. With a comfortable range of 350 miles on a tank full of regular I have been known to drive half a day without stopping. Alternatively we pull over and take a nap on our queen sized bed.
I suppose the question is do I miss the roominess of a house or the convenience of unlimited instant hot running water and the answer must be obvious. The freedom from maintenance and repair, the absence of bills the ease of using a laundromat and leaving it far behind works for me.
In my opinion the true measure of whether or not an RV is a home is when the weather turns bad and a day indoors makes you crazy or not. RV life is weather dependent it when that goes wrong your tin box has to be a capable space to live without driving you mad. So far we pass that test.
The fashion nowadays is to describe driving in dirt as “overlanding” where I think of that term describing foreign travel. I can’t imagine living in a tent and making that home with a wife and dog. Some adventurers do it and enjoy it. To me the thing is to be on the road. As a callow youth I took a motorcycle and a tent and went to Africa and felt like I was fully equipped. All it takes is wanting to go and the rest will follow along. The years of sitting at a desk and working overtime were all part of the plan which sees us now living debt free and saving money every month.
I do not feel deprived.
