When Clean is Just Another Shade of Filthy...Westfalia Living

Sorry that (other than this pig) there's no illustrative photos for this blog, but until your computer has scratch and sniff capability, photos wouldn't do it justice anyway. I'm just going to find some pretty pictures and stick them in randomly.




We are now in Newfoundland and yes, there actually is bologna on the menu, but I thought it was time to talk about Westfalia living. Rosalita has had a few quirks from the outset, but upon arrival in Newfoundland we had no headlights, no ability to open the windows and no windshield wipers. We've spent the first 24 hours here within a few miles of the ferry terminal and closer still to Matt's Auto here in Placentia Newfoundland.




But life in Rosalita is more than how well she is or isn't running. It means living in close quarters to each other and getting used to the realities of having no real electrical or water infrastructure. This means we have a sink, but no water or sewer lines unless we are at an RV park (never). This in turn means that we are very water efficient and even more soap efficient. I think we have actually given up on soap for the most part.

Take for instance my stainless steel "wineglass." Each evening I enjoy a glass or two, and in the beginning, I would use a little soap and water to clean it up and dry with a tea towel. Then later I would just turn it upside down on a picnic table so that it could dry overnight. Then later still, I would get lazy and go to bed and do this in the morning (nothing dries overnight anyway). Then I decided it was just wine so it really didn't need soap. This morning I just put some water in it to slosh it around and dissolve the old wine, drank the water, and put the glass away wet. I suspect Jack of licking off the spoons and putting them away, but I'm not sure.

Now imagine all of our dishes in somewhat similar fashion.

A few weeks ago, we opened the side door after a hike, and the smell was more than just a little revolting. It was sort of an ode du dirty wet socks, rotting fruit and something molding. In the van there is a piece of carpet laid over the VW carpet, and both layers were wet and mildewing. Besides that, the refrigerator does not really keep anything cold. It can sort of keep things cool, but it barely slows the decay as compared to keeping something in the glove compartment. We took out the rugs and dried them as best we could, got the really ugly stuff out of the fridge and today, finally, we're doing the laundry. We're even washing the tea towel for the first time in 8 weeks.

Parks doesn't have the budget for horses...

I haven't had a shower in 3 days and that seems normal too. But when I do get one, I'm sure I'll feel so smug.

Single Windturbine Blade in NB:

Becoming Higher Caliber People

We have come across so many ironies in our travels, that I am considering just making a list of them all. Maybe that will be a future blog. The one that’s been on my mind for a while is about food.

We have just spent a delightful few days with friends at their “cottage” in the Laurentians in Quebec. They are foodies and the experience was delicious. Crêpes, Montreal bagels and baguettes, cheeses to die for (including one called “Anglo Saxon” - I don't even want to know why), local wine, beer and cider, espresso, homemade gazpacho, and throughout it all, glorious fresh fruits and vegetables. We had a similar experience with friends in Toronto and again in Ottawa. Actually in Ottawa, as I gazed up agape at the chalkboard menu of a funky organic restaurant, my friend Lisa said I looked like I was seeing a DaVinci painting for the first time.

This was because we have spent a lot of time in small rural Canadian towns, and here comes the irony. In small farming communities, you won’t be served fresh fruits or vegetables. There will be lot’s of fried options, there will be both kinds of bread (“white or brown?”) there will be Coca Cola, but the only thing vaguely green will be a pale piece of iceberg lettuce. I finally realized that places that advertise themselves as serving “homestyle cooking” don’t bear any resemblance to what my friends or I would cook at home.

Picture Perfect Montreal Lunch

I’ve read that a low income is a strong indicator for an unhealthy weight. And while I have found that restaurant prices may be slightly higher in high rent areas, the difference really hasn’t been significant. That may be because the deveggified restaurant food tends to come in huge portions. The rural restaurant portion sizes assume that I will be spending my afternoon tossing around 50 pound bales of hay or pulling a plow through rocky prairie soil. The result of this kind of eating, along with all the sitting involved with driving across the country, is a couple of British Columbians who are having more difficulty fitting into their trousers.

Do vertical photos make my butt look fat?

But it’s not just us. As we have travelled across the country, the experience has been quite similar everywhere. There are a lot of fat people in the country and a lot of slim people in the cities. Part may be fashion consciousness, but as I witness people using their ATV to get down their driveway to empty their mailbox, I can’t but come to the conclusion that the whole rural work-hard ethic doesn’t really result in getting physical activity. It’s just too easy to jump into the car. And in the cities, it’s a pain in the ass to jump in the car. Just try to find parking, and when you do it’s expensive.


Toronto - I counted 16 lanes







A Toronto dirt-filled sedan – a use for cars in the future?














an Ottawa artist gets his exercise balancing heavy rocks

Or is all this just my own snobbishness? Is expecting greenery beyond coleslaw at a meal just another form of elitism? A woman told me she was a “coffee snob too” when I asked if espresso was available anywhere in town.


We've just headed into a more rural Quebec, so I'll be able to see if the theory holds. After all, everything sounds better in French.

The Money Pit

Well, the cute Westfalia has a name: "Rosalita."

She is the colour of dark red wine and is turning out to have somewhat of a fiery temper. Fiery in the sense that the heating won't turn off and the AC has stopped working. She also completely lost her head recently. Actually her cylinder heads. So they needed to be replaced and the last bill from the auto mechanic was around $4,200.

She has occasional outbursts. For no reason, she'll just send a little 2-syllable chirp, like a doorbell: "ding-ding". I think she's just saying hello, but Jack is considering having the alarm system worked over. I think that we should just let her chirp across the country, and maybe she'll stop if she feels like she's getting enough attention.

Rosalita is adorable, but she is also high maintenance.

The First Step: Purchasing a Westfalia

In the beginning there was an idea:

Let's do the Big Canadian Road-Trip

Unfortunately last year's trip around the Rocky Mountain west showed me that I'm not up to tenting every night. So we chose the next best thing, to buy a camperized Westfalia. It's a cute, wine-red, 1991 model and a bigger vehicle than I've ever owned before. In our neighbourhood I think there are about 6 Westfalia's in a 3-block radius, so it's a little weird to be keeping up with the Joneses.

We've learned that we must wave at other Westfalia drivers (the peace sign is reserved for the older air-cooled versions), and then we must name it. The Big Red Brick seems accurate, but a little impersonal. If you have suggestions for a name let us know.