Picture the scene. You’re back in Sydney. It’s still kind of winter, but spring is peeking around the corner. Your heels still bloody hurt, a lot. You get an official diagnosis (plantar fasciitis and yikes, huge heel spurs, though Dr Google already told you most of that) and a prognosis, which is that it will take 12-18 months to heal/heel, and can be improved with shockwave therapy, which is expensive but you’re all signed up for it even though it’s ouchy hurty.
You have post-trip blues, you’re back at work, and you need a project to keep you sane. You’ve need a campervan.
So you start looking and wheee, they’re not cheap.
You can buy something very old (1993, i.e. 25 years old), with a crazy-high odometer reading (200,000+ kms, i.e. it’s been around Australia many times), the transmission you don’t want (manual) and none of the tech you’ve gotten used to (no airbags, no bluetooth, no ABS, no power steering). That will cost you in the region of $22k. It’s cheap (ish). But it’s crap. (Or, for true crap, you can buy some rubbish from a backpacker, and it’ll cost you thousands in maintenance and many nights lost sleep because it’s a deathtrap.)
Or you can buy something better. Something with automatic transmission that’s much newer (2014), although it also has plenty of kms already on the clock (85,000+). But that’ll costs you almost $90,000. Ninety grand. NINETY GRAND!! That’s insane. That’s more than your year’s post-tax salary. And it comes with shitty, 1990s-style dinette/banquette/foldaway awfulness in literal and metaphorical shades of beige. Yeah, fuck that.
Alternatively you can find something in between: a ten-year-old, lower kms (under 40,000), automatic-transmission van, converted more or less as you’d want it (though still with a lot of beige formica and the dinette/banquette thing, ugh). It’s a compromise. But it still costs Over fifty grand. FIFTY GRAND.
Really, there is no need for any of this madness. And so you decide to convert one yourself. And so you start looking at just, you know, vans.