A (7)

42

july 2016

yogajournal.com.au

AS LONG AS MARTIN DOREY has his classic

1 970s red VW campervan parked nearby –

complete with his two-ring cooker – you

will fi nd him in his happy place regardless

of his actual, locatable, geographical

coordinates.

Perched on the edge of a hilltop,

overlooking the glorious ocean or foraging

for food in the New Forest of southern

England, Martin loves to take trips in his

van, create delicious van meals, share his

vanning experience, and encourage the

wider world to take time out, appreciate

nature, and live sustainably.

Martin’s BBC2 series, One Man and His

Campervan, is a testament to the pure joy

of van life – a life which is a spiritual path

and happy place for many – and also an

inspiration from a passionate foodie

who doesn’t see the sense in supporting

anything other than fresh, local produce

when it comes to meal times.

So, what’s so irresistible about life

in a van? “You turn the seats around, open

the door, put the kettle on and just look at

the view,” Martin says. “And it’s just a bit of

calm time, isn’t it?”

Martin’s take on van life, however, is

just one part of his wholehearted approach

to advocating for a slow life, slow cooking

and meals shared with others, a peaceful

personal journey, and an environmentally

aware existence. A few years ago, Martin

(also author of The Camper Van Coast,

The Camper Van Cookbook and The Camper

Van Bible), created the concept of the two-

minute beach clean which he kicked off at

the beaches of his home town, Cornwall in

the UK. Every time he goes to the beach, he

spends two minutes collecting litter and now,

with the help of an enthusiastic social media

following, the practice has gone global.

Martin’s love of the outdoors was inspired

by his grandfather, a teacher who was fond

of camping and motorcycle touring. “He

lived a simple life, really frugally ... the kind

of life we should all be leading if we’re not

going to kill the planet. He grew his own

veg, mended everything and never threw

anything away. He didn’t consume. It was a

small footprint, the original austerity.”

Unencumbered by any digital deluge

and not suffering from a mass craving

for consumerism or a preoccupation with

Instagram posts, the generation before us

offers ample insights into how to live simply.

My own grandfather, Cecil, would have

liked Martin and his BBC show. He would

have told Martin about his honeymoon with

my Nana in a VW campervan, and how one

morning they were awoken by the hysteria

of a bull whose horns had become stuck in

the van’s door handle. Cecil also loved to

cook and once told me – when I was

travelling for six months in a Toyota pop-

top van and phoned him from the Daintree

Rainforest – never to eat goanna as “it goes

straight through you”. (I reassured him I

was only taking photos of the protected

species, not catching and cooking them.)

In its heyday, my grandfather’s vegetable

plot covered his backyard and he used his

handmade slingshot to scare away the

crows. His balcony – and main slingshot

vantage point – was his refuge, a place to sit

and contemplate as the Gold Coast high

rises went up, and up, around him.

But cultivating a simple existence today,

a life that weaves gracefully between the

onslaught of progress and the high

expectations of a fast world, is not easy. As PHOTO: (ABOVE) EMMA WAND PHOTOGRAPHY

Yoga teacher Clare Lovelace takes time to slow down.