How many times have you heard the phrase, ‘it’s just… I never thought this would happen to me’? Well, here I am. Although campervans can be a super fun, convenient, and affordable way to explore New Zealand, unfortunately it also has its risks experiences. It’s taken me a while to write about this real-life experience of mine. Not because the event itself was super traumatic, but still… I’d rather not revisit it. Hopefully, by writing about what happened you can learn from my scariest vanlife story and stay safer during your travels.

One sweet day in 2019…

Picture this: it’s a scorching Dunedin summer’s day. Heat devils dance on the tarmac and you’re parked up in your van, sitting in the cabin which feels like a sauna. You’ve been doing the vanlife thing for a month now, and its more or less second nature. In the afternoon you chugged a coffee and drove from Timaru to Dunedin, your old stomping ground. It’s been a while since you were back, but it feels good to be home.

This was the situation I found myself in. After the long drive, my eyes struggled to stay open and I made a quick decision to rest up near Ōpoho Park, at the top of the Botanic Gardens. It was the sort of peaceful spot where people walk their dogs, prams, or later in the evening, sit with their windows down, smoking and listening to the radio… Nothing out of the ordinary. I reversed into a corner park that bordered onto a thick hedge. Perfect! I could lift the boot to get a nice breeze flowing through the van. Plus, the hedge added lots of privacy from the road and footpath.

After changing into cooler clothes, I sat by the boot on the ledge above the towbar and absently flicked through magazines. Life is good! I smiled contentedly. Car engines rumbled into action as other visitors went home, but I didn’t take much notice. What’s the time? 5pm. Hmm. I glanced outside and was surprised to see the full park had emptied to about 4 cars. I should probably go, the little voice in my head whispered. Nah, it’s early. There was plenty of time before I had to find accommodation for the night. Plus, it was time to make my weekly family call. I dialled the phone.

And that was my first mistake.

There I was, chatting away, blissfully distracted by the usual family goss. Looking back, anybody would have been able to hear me and learn that I was a girl on my own.

After 10 minutes, the weirdness started.

As I was sitting there, I heard a rustle near the end of the boot. I thought nothing of it the first few times. Just somebody’s dog sniffing around in the grass. It happened again. Just a dog. The rustles stopped for a while, and an eerie silence descended over the parking lot. I looked around to see two rusty cars parked nearby, but nobody else was around. My skin prickled with goosebumps.

Then I heard it again: snap, snap, pop... Breaking twigs. Blood rushed to my face. The sounds were slow and deliberate. My stomach knotted. Deep down, I knew there had to be a calculating consciousness behind them. Hardly the frenzied sounds of an animal. My instincts were bang on, but I hoped I was wrong. It sounds like they’re happening right in front of me! Why can’t I see anything moving? I stared at the tussock and dry leaves on the ground at the end of the boot, about 2 metres away. All was still. Am I going crazy?

“Anyway, it was really lovely to catch up. I’ve gotta go now,” I said over the phone, trying to disguise the alarm in my voice. When the call ended, I returned my attention to the hedge. Oh! An idea hit me. I bet it’s a bird nesting in the hedge! That’s why I’m not seeing anything move on the ground. Haha silly me.

I slowly raised my eyes, and my heart stopped.

Shit. My gaze fell onto two, grey eyes leering out of the hedge. They were the most awful, soulless eyes I’ve ever seen. Predatory. My body seized up. What do I do? I could only see a snippet of the man’s face, the wrinkled area around his eyes, because he was wearing a black balaclava. Great. From what detail I could see, he looked in his 50s or 60s at least, which surprised me a bit. But the most disturbing thing was that I couldn’t see any other part of his body—no feet, no legs, no torso. Nothing. Just his face. He’d really squeezed himself into that hedge. Talk about desperate.

He squinted and adjusted his view through the leaves, as if trying to find the best line of sight. I realised he didn’t know that I’d spotted him.

Anger rose inside me. Effing creep. What the hell is wrong with people these days? Ha. Well, say goodbye to your afternoon viewing mister! I stretched, hummed a tune, and tried to act casually as I stood and pulled the boot closed from the inside. I quickly hitched the curtain up over the window, locked all the doors, and then went back to the window to spy on him. Revenge. Surely he’ll get bored and go away now, I thought. My heart thundered like a racehorse, but I was more annoyed than fearful.

Nothing came out of the hedge. Nothing even moved, which had me questioning my own sanity again. Another minute passed. I should really get out of here asap. Not wanting to exit the van for obvious reasons, I began to crawl over the beam into the driver’s seat.

BOOM!

A massive bang shook the van. It was so loud, I assumed somebody whacked the roof with a baseball bat. I cursed and ran down the interior, looking out every window, trying to catch him in the act. I saw a bottle roll on the ground; it was an old, dusty one. Perhaps one that he’d found sitting in the hedge and decided to hurl at me for spoiling his ‘viewing’.

I leapt into the driver’s seat and zoomed out of that damned place sooo fast. The van hurtled over the speed bumps, and I kept looking in my mirrors, expecting those horrible eyes to be peering out from a car behind me. At this point, my body shook. I was desperate to be near other people— in the safety of the public eye.

The city felt like a sensory overload of sights and smells. I guess it was the first time I truly experienced the flight/fight response – your senses heighten, and time slows. After parking up and scanning my surroundings, I gingerly got outside. Luckily, the bottle, or whatever it was, hadn’t caused any noticeable damage to my dear van. I had a chuckle about that.

What happened next?

To be honest, I’m incredibly grateful I had that experience. It taught me a lesson, and no harm was done. I still cringe when I wonder how long the creepy guy had been watching me for. Was he there when I changed my top? Ick. As for this man… Recently, I decided to make a concerted effort and discover who he is. I’m pretty sure I know now. It took a bit of online sleuthing— mostly looking up news articles about other similar incidents that have happened to women at the Dunedin Botanic Gardens and Logan Park oval area. He’s known to the authorities, and although I believe he’s now out of jail, hopefully he’s being kept under observation.

When I first began vanlife, I thought, ‘if I’m considerate of others, keep to myself, and don’t get people’s way, things will be fine.’ And in my experience, about 95% of people respond to that logic. But it’s the 5% you need to worry about – those ones who deliberately go out of their way to ‘getcha’.

the most dangerous thing about vanlife

Creepy guys in balaclavas? Not really. If my scariest vanlife experience taught me anything, it was that the most dangerous thing is this: your own complacency. Easy times campervanning can make feel you too comfortable… and careless. New Zealand is generally considered quite safe. But like any city, there’s always going to be a few dodgy characters lurking around.

Takeaways: essential safety tips for solo Vanlife

• Don’t openly talk on the phone where your conversation makes it obvious that you are alone.
• Be wary of NZ public parks/reserves etc. In my experience, nothing good happens in these areas after sunset.
• How does your van appear from the outside? For example, drying your bikini on the dashboard in full view isn’t the best advertisement.
• Ideally, ensure you can get to the driver’s seat without having to exit your van, in case you need to make an emergency escape.
• Project competence, not overconfidence.
• Create a safety routine – check doors are locked, keys are handy to you, valuables are safe etc.
• Hedges, walls, and other objects can offer privacy. But they can also offer privacy for people watching you.