“Don’t date a man who lives in a van!” said my brother-in-law.

But I liked him, so I did. Then I married him.

Twenty-four years ago, when we were having a weekend break in Paris, someone broke into his converted 1970s bus and burned it to the ground. But he has never stopped dreaming about getting on the road again.

Last year, after a year of being his dad’s carer, he received a modest inheritance and started looking for a new live-in vehicle. We bought this horsebox in December. We knew it was a little rusty. But how rusty! As we peeled off the layers, the horror show was revealed.

We are employing our artist metal-working friend, who lost a lot of business after Brexit, to do the conversion. I’ll be doing some of the woodwork.

At the moment, it looks like an absolute wreck! But follow me, and hopefully, I’ll soon be posting progress.

First trip, once the truck’s on the road? To his dad’s old haunts to scatter his ashes. I will, of course, be taking my laptop and writing about it.

Meet Orson, our ‘orsebox. We hope he will soon be Well(es).