The thing about working in a pub is that it slowly eats you alive, one shift at a time. You pour beer after beer, serve meal after meal, until the days blur together and your own life feels like it’s on pause. Christmas only cranks up the heat—figuratively and literally. Fifteen-hour days in a town where the air is thick and the pavement shimmers under the sun can make you question every choice that brought you here.
But last night was different. It was my final shift of the year, the last round of beers for a while. When the doors closed and the lights dimmed, we didn’t just clock out—we celebrated. Wine flowed like water, bourbon burned its way down, and beers clinked together in a chorus of exhaustion and camaraderie.
I walked away with more than just a hangover. The bar won’t open for a month, so I did what any resourceful nomad would: I filled a crate with open wine bottles and brought them home. Waste not, want not. These are the spoils of war—or at least a hard-fought battle against thirsty crowds.
The goodbyes were bittersweet. The French girls I worked with—charming, funny, endlessly patient—are off to their next adventure. Ben, the lone French guy, whose name translates to... Ben, will disappear into the same horizon. That’s the thing about this life. The people you meet don’t stick around, but they leave their mark on you. A little reminder that life is fleeting, chaotic, and deeply beautiful.
Today, though, it’s Sunday. The one day where I don’t have to think about pouring another drink or clearing another plate. I’m house-sitting for the boss, soaking up luxuries my van will never offer: air conditioning, a pool, and the indulgence of space. For the next two weeks, I’m unemployed, and I plan to savour every second of it. Cocktails by the pool, long stretches of doing absolutely nothing, and a sweaty, sun-soaked Christmas on the horizon.
Life on the road isn’t always glamorous. It’s exhausting, unpredictable, and sometimes downright uncomfortable. But it’s also real. Honest. And if you’re lucky, it’ll strip away the bullshit and remind you what it feels like to truly live.
So here’s to the road. To the friends we make and the wine we steal. Merry Christmas. Now go take that leap you’ve been avoiding. Life’s too short to sit still.
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Thanks for rolling by! If this post fueled your van life or travel dreams, hit the like button, share it with your fellow wanderers, or shout a coffee to keep the wheels turning and the journey going! - Adam, Will and Wally.