Poring over the papers scattered across the table, I closed my eyes in frustration.
The numbers on invoices, bills and bank statements seemed to blur into a confusing mess.
My husband Logan, 37, and I were struggling to keep on top of our $450,000 mortgage and our landscaping business.
‘We can’t live like this anymore,’ I said.
It was the supposed ‘dream life’, as we owned a home and were our own bosses.
But the constant 17-hour days juggling our finances and newborn baby girl Mia had taken a toll on us both, Logan especially.
‘I’m just miserable, Adi,’ he told me.
Three years of constant physical labour had wreaked havoc on his body and he was struggling to move his hands properly, so we visited a doctor.
Logan was diagnosed with paralysis in one hand and calcification of the joints in the other, where calcium is deposited abnormally in soft tissue, causing it to harden.
Because he was the sole labourer for our business, we sought out an osteopath to see how he could keep working.
But he had sinister news.
‘If you don’t stop, you’re going to die,’ he told Logan gravely.
He explained the calcification was so bad, he’d be bedridden within a few years if he kept going.
Terrified at the news, we looked at our options.
‘Why don’t we go to New Zealand?’ Logan suggested.
He’d grown up there, but had been living in Australia for 10 years.
One night, Logan came home with a cheeky grin.
‘What about a motorhome?’ he asked me.
I didn’t think living as a nomad in a caravan was a practical way of life.
What about Mia? I worried. She was just 18 months old.
But then I started delving into websites and blogs of families who had packed up their lives to live on the road.
They seemed like normal, happy people.
And happy was a feeling I’d long forgotten.
‘Let’s do it,’ I said, excited.
That night, while surfing online for motorhomes, we came across a truck for sale.
‘You know, we could live in this...’ Logan said.
It was an old Mainfreight, curtainsider truck with an interior of around 16sqm.
Feeling frantic, we got everything in order to sell our three-bedroom home on the Gold Coast.
I had to clear the house of any belongings we didn’t need including clothes, Mia’s toys, furniture, books and kitchen appliances.
Three months later, Logan, Mia and I arrived at Auckland airport with a suitcase each and nothing more.
It was a big leap of faith, but it felt like the weight of the world was lifted off our shoulders.
We met the vehicle’s owner at the airport, shook his hand and instantly became owners of a house truck!
‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ I said to Logan, shaking my head in amazement.
Luckily, the truck was equipped with a kitchen, toilet, queen-size bed, a bed for Mia, a dishwasher, freezer, fridge and shower.
A generator provided electricity to our new mobile home so we could park it anywhere.
Mia took to her new life perfectly, loving every minute she spent with us.
First, we visited Logan’s family across New Zealand, before setting off on the adventure of a lifetime around the country.
For the first time, we had no mortgage, no repayments and we didn’t owe anyone anything!
We parked the truck in gorgeous places overlooking mountain scenery, lakes, beaches, farms and national parks.
Soon after, I fell pregnant with our boy, David, now two.
He was bathed in the sink and slept in a portable cot in the truck.
Not needing too many toys, David and Mia played outside instead.
‘He’s born and raised on the road!’ I laughed.
Now, we’ve lived in a truck for nearly four years.
We’ve travelled up and down NZ, especially loving Kaitaia and the South Island.
Logan and I manage to find odd jobs in each destination we park.
On average we spend as little as $645 a month on power, water, camping fees and travelling, plus $200 a week on food.
Packing up our lives and moving into a truck is the best decision we’ve ever made. Logan and I are much healthier, and he can use both his hands again.
And we argue less, as money is never an issue.
Our family is living proof that this lifestyle is not just for tourists or retirees.
One day we were up to our necks in bills in misery, and the next we were living the dream! The only thing I regret is not doing it sooner!
To learn more, visit www.whatyouhavealwayswantedtodo.com.