Gaston Van Damme with his camper. (Generated with AI)
On a quiet camper stop in Alaejos, a small town in the heart of Castile, we met a man who looked as if the road had finally paused him rather than the other way around.
Let’s call him Gaston Van Damme. That is not his real name, but it fits.
Gaston is 67 years old and travels alone in a 21-year-old camper—a vehicle that is no longer just transport but home, memory, and last anchor all in one. He has been on the road for years, drifting from place to place, never entirely stopping anywhere. Until now.
Gaston was not in a good mood. In fact, he was bitter, tired, and angry in that quiet way people become when complaining no longer helps.
Six weeks earlier, after an engine overhaul, something had gone wrong. According to Gaston, the mechanic had set the engine timing incorrectly—likely tightening the timing belt too much or misaligning it during reassembly. The engine ran for a while, but under stress one of the valves eventually failed, snapping inside the cylinder.
The result was catastrophic. The engine was dead.
The mechanic denied responsibility. No warranty, no admission of fault, no help. And so Gaston stayed where he was, stranded on a dusty camper site in Alaejos, watching days turn into weeks.
He no longer knew how he would get back to Belgium. Worse: he no longer knew why he should.
His camper is his home. Selling it would mean losing everything at once—mobility, independence, and the carefully balanced life he had built around the road. Repairing it would cost more than he could easily afford. Towing it north felt impossible. Every option seemed to close another door.
As he spoke, it became clear that this was no longer just a mechanical failure. It was an existential one.
Modern travel blogs often celebrate freedom, sunsets, and endless roads. But occasionally, reality intervenes: an overtightened bolt, a misjudged repair, a small technical decision with outsized consequences.
Gaston’s story is a reminder that life on the road is not romantic by default. It is fragile. It depends on machines, trust, and just enough luck.
And sometimes, despite all experience, all care, and all good intentions, you end up stuck in a small Spanish town, six weeks in, with a broken engine and too much time to think.
It could happen to you.
