Abdinz

Let me tell you something about daylight. Back home near the equator, the sun was as reliable as my grandmother’s chai recipe – 12 hours of golden light, every single day. Here in New Zealand? I swear I blinked in early May and suddenly the sun clocks out at 5:30 PM like an overworked barista.

And the weather? Don’t get me started. I used to think “bad weather” meant waiting five extra minutes for the rain to stop. Now I’m learning that NZ winter means:

• Horizontal rain that laughs at your “waterproof” jacket
• Winds that turn my van into a shaky metal tent
• Daylight hours so short I’m considering hibernation

Why I’m Building Like My Sanity Depends On It

1. The Daylight Dilemma
When the sun disappears before dinner, every minute counts. My old bed setup wasted precious evening hours with its complicated folding routine. The new kingsize sofa bed? One smooth motion and I’ve got instant comfort for those long, dark evenings.

2. Weatherproofing My Mobile Cave
That metallic ping of rain on the roof used to feel cozy… until I realized it was the sound of my body heat escaping. The insulated floor isn’t just about comfort anymore – it’s about survival. I’ve already lined the doors with foam tape after discovering wind can literally whistle through the gaps.

3. The Kitchen Redemption
Trying to cook dinner in howling wind and fading light was my personal rock bottom. The new indoor kitchen setup means I can actually make a proper meal without:

• Chasing my cutting board across the campground
• Using my phone flashlight as a cooking light
• Eating at 9 PM because everything took twice as long

The Immigrant Parallel No One Told Me About

There’s something poetic about building a winter-ready van as a tropical transplant. Both require:
✔️ Layering up in ways that feel unnatural at first
✔️ Creating warmth where none exists naturally
✔️ Learning to appreciate small comforts (like a hot water bottle) as lifelines

Every time I add another layer of insulation, I’m also insulating my resolve. Each evening I spend cozy in my kingsize bed instead of shivering in the old cramped one, I’m rewriting what “home” means.

The Race Against Winter

I was supposed to take Sundays off. But with each passing week:
☀️ The daylight shrinks by another 15 minutes
🌧️ The rain gets more creative with its angles
💨 The wind develops new ways to rattle my nerves

So here I am, on yet another drizzly afternoon, drilling and insulating and muttering Swahili curses at the weather. Because the difference between surviving and thriving in my first van winter comes down to this: How well I prepare now.