Hubert has been now for five seasons our 5th family-member, a close friend, the gateway to freedom, and even the guardian angel to keep up the vow I had taken back in 2011. To live what the dream was about: freedom and independence …

The first four seasons were a trial really: are five months out of 12 really what we want to live. Living in a mobile home actually reflects two meanings: mobile … you are not fix, you are on a road but not living this worn-out thing of a road-trip. Just being outside. Always on a move, not being stationary. Being mobile, moving from here to there but somehow never reaching the place you may have the intention to go for.

And a home. Hubert has become a home. We feel homey with him, regardless where we are. On a campsite, on the road, on a motorway station between lorries. It is a home.


For us, before you leave, you check all functionalities of Hubert: you fill each and every tank, you make sure the oils are right. Then you sit down, start the engine and you make a last walk around the inside to check all flaps locked, lights out, nothing can drop down anywhere … you hold a helping hand to Hubert for him not to cause any issue or damage.

Then you set off and until you reach the motorway Hubert is quite difficult. Slow acceleration, just no moral. But when he hits the motorway and he cruises along for a few dozens of miles … he gets into mood and just loves steadily moving ahead. I for my part I don’t even switch on any music. I listen to the steady sound of his engine. I listen to him. Somehow we become a single unit. The slightest discrepancy of anything, I hear, I feel. And if I don’t feel right, we have a break and feel being big boys, between all these lorries on the motorway stop.


This year we made Greifswald to Manchester and return. We went up to Helsinki and back via Prague, and the last trip brought us to Danzig via Prague again down to Stuttgart and up to Dortmund. Yes, it is munching mile after mile after mile … but it has become a kind of lifestyle, though Hubert and me don’t claim being dropouts. But I remember the one moment we set of at 4:00 am in Sofia and went towards the black Sea. Eastwards. That moment I put on Café del Mar, had my Arabic hat on and the sun rose. I felt freedom. It helps to be able to rely technically on Hubert, but I seriously felt free. Profoundly.


So far I did not have this emotion too often, but am more than thrilled when feeling it. Feeling free. Nobody is able to turn up and oblige you for doing anything. Obviously, you have a rota to follow and respect, but you are free to do anything at your will.

All of these trips were based on projects. Visiting customers, being the representative of somebody. Driving on my own or being accompanied by a colleague. And Hubert’s style charmed them all, me included. Again, again and again.

Then It is fun having a rest, shutting the engine down and just relaxing, anywhere out in the Styx. This is actually what I was about when I said “let me step out”. Though when leaving last job I did not know what to expect. I am now just about to understand and getting close, what it may mean “dropping out.


When being on such a trip, it is always an adventure. And spending one week in close relationship with a colleague does change the relationship profoundly. It may tear you apart for the time thereafter, or it glues you even stronger together as it was before. And Hubert helps in turning it positively constructive. And we never experienced any bad day … whoever spent time on the road with us, whatever circumstances we were in, regardless the timetable to fulfil.

There are lots of people out there cruising around with the caravans and checking out the world. And Hubert and me we do same. But I can somehow not get close to these people. No idea why. Maybe it’s because we are not on holidays. Who knows. But every single day we spend together, the decision becomes clearer, it was the right one to take.