Driven to Kite
Issue 87 / Thu 10th Jun, 2021
It's the classic dream of the passionate kitesurfer: To break free from the chains of the corporate world and follow the wind wherever it takes you. In this article, Ben Beholz shares how his drive to kite has taken him out of the office and onto the road full time. Read on for some van life inspiration!
To tell the story of how I ended up living in my van full-time, I have to go back in time a little bit. The dream of van life began while studying architecture in Oldenburg on the North Sea of Germany.
I lived one hour from the coast and spent a lot of time driving back and forth to stay true to my passion for kitesurfing. However, within that hour, I could only reach the kite spots nearest to me on the North Sea. These spots had a large tidal range, meaning the time window where kitesurfing was possible was very short.
With a neverending need to spend as much time kiting as possible, I spent most of my free time searching for sessions in the Netherlands. I bought my first little van to avoid spending too much money on expensive accommodation while visiting the Dutch coast. The van was tiny, but it was exactly what I wanted. I had everything I needed to live by the beach during summertime. What more does one need?!
A few years later, when I finished my architectural studies, I once again faced a seemingly endless number of new possibilities. During my time studying, I had quickly realized that I loved one thing: To be outside at the beach living in my small van and experiencing life as it truly is, out there with all its facets. As I came closer to graduation, the fear of a dreadfully 'normal' life grew greater. If I chose to live the average, everyday life of an architect, I would lose the freedom to kite.
Life is rarely a fairytale, and as it often goes, I ended up the way almost everyone does after completing such a degree. I found myself working as an architect and firmly planted in an office in Gaienhofen at Lake Constance, in Southwest Germany and far, far away from the salty sea that I loved.
At this point, I faced two serious issues. The first problem was that the architectural firm I worked in was a long distance to the sea and any decent kitesurfing spots. Second, I stayed in a room in a shared apartment in Radolfzell with an extremely clean housemate. That may sound like a blessing, but having someone cleaning up your breakfast breadcrumbs while you're still eating breakfast is taking cleanliness a little too far. My neatfreak flatmate, combined with a severe lack of hours on the water, made me ask myself some serious questions: At this moment, does my life look anything like the life I had always dreamed of? Am I experiencing life as I really want to be? The answers were clear. Something needed to change.
After carrying on like this for a few more months, I finally said
Tschüss (BYE!) to my neurotic flatmate and bought my first motorhome, which I moved into immediately. I parked my RV right in front of the architectural firm so that the commute to the office was shorter, nearly nonexistent! I was one step closer to my dream life, with much more time to spend on the good things in life. For me, that was kitesurfing, and editing kitesurf videos.
Another year went by in which I sat in the office four days a week and followed my dream the other three days per week, at whichever kite spot had wind. Deep down inside, the question kept coming up. Why don't you make kitesurfing and video production your job? Isn't that what you dream of?
I always had this feeling that this dream life was unrealistic. I had the illusion that you can only make a living from a sport if you play football or tennis. In a sense, I stood in my own way for far too long. It was a while before I discovered that it doesn't matter how much money you earn with your job. The point of any job is to make sure you have enough income to cover your expenses. My very inexpensive van life did not require the high paying job that would stand in the way of my dreams. Change was on the way once again.
A few months later, I found myself somewhere on a random beach, editing videos in the morning and kitesurfing in the afternoon. I was very close to my idea of freedom, and I enjoyed this lifestyle for a few years. This was all quite some time ago, well before the pandemic hit and when endless travel was still possible.
Last year when I returned home from a kitesurfing trip in Sal, Cape Verde, the whole world suddenly turned upside down. The travel restrictions hit those who kitesurf for a living particularly hard because flying and travel were suddenly no longer possible. However, I was once again extremely lucky. It was the best possible time to be living in an RV!
Life in the van made it possible for me to still travel for kitesurfing. I could stay for an extended time at one spot and continue to follow my passions. Because of the pandemic measures, I had to get a little more creative to continue pursuing my goals. But, for the most part, my life went on as normal.
I spent a long time in Switzerland at Lake Silvaplana, 1840m above sea level. I went kitesurfing in an ice hole for the first time in my life in the best wind conditions you can imagine. When the mountain tops became too cold, I parked my RV at a random kitesurfing spot in Sardinia and continued to produce kitesurf videos from there.
Life as a digital nomad comes with a lot of advantages, especially combined with van life. You can leave as quickly as you came. I kept myself informed with the news and local laws, and when restrictions were looming that might affect my freedom of travel, I'd get into the driver's seat and take off!
I know it is hard to imagine living on the road 24/7. The reason for this, in most cases, is the lack of comfort. I suppose you could see that as the major disadvantage of van life. For me, however, comfort has never been a particularly high priority. Why would I go kitesurfing in an ice hole? Not because it's comfortable! I do it because I feel alive in those intense moments. To me, it's the same about life in an RV - I feel alive and look forward to every challenge that I have yet to overcome.
Adaptability is probably one of the most important properties for all living beings on this planet - the only constant is continuous change. I no longer ask myself the question of where I should go on the next trip. I look to see where I'm allowed to go and drive.
Living in the van in these crazy times has made one thing clear to me. Life is not about building your house from stones that are as heavy as possible. For me, it's about remaining as flexible as possible and adapting to new situations. The house of life might be better as a wooden structure. Even better, one that's on wheels.
I consistently ask myself: How would I like to live? How am I living right now? I see the fact that I can ask myself this question again and again as an absolute luxury. In a world in which just 10% of the entire population has access to the Internet, one should appreciate and be mindful of our own luxuries.
Life in the van often feels very real to me. It feels natural. You live with the rhythm of nature. You get up when it gets light and go to bed when it gets dark. In times of great crisis, many aspects of our lives were threatened, but one thing has always stayed with me: The best way to experience life in its greatest form is right there in the moment, on the beach.
Videos
By Ben Beholz
