Van, Bike, Trailer — and the Illusion of Freedom

I thought I had cracked it.

A Mercedes Sprinter converted for camping, my bike strapped to a trailer. The master plan: best of both worlds. Comfort of the van, freedom of the bike. Flexibility at its finest.

Well… that was the theory.

Germany in the Rearview

The trip started with 1300km ahead of me. Germany rolled by in long stretches of small towns and tidy country roads, every corner screaming “follow the rules.” Campsites were neat, organised, and twice the price of what I’d later find in France. That alone says it all for Germany.

The bike sat behind me on the trailer, silent, waiting. It didn’t feel like I was taking it with me. More like I was dragging a prisoner behind the van.

Crossing into France

Nancy was the first real pause — a beautiful old town centre that reminded me why I travel at all. Good food, time with friends, a chance to just sit in a café and watch the world shuffle by. That’s when it made sense. Van parked, bike free, no rush.

French campsites were a revelation. Half the price, double the character. Quirky little places where you roll in, plug in, and crack a cold drink without thinking too much about rules or regulations.

The Roads Test Your Patience

France has a choice for you: endless straight country roads where time stands still, or a motorway where you bleed coins at every toll booth. I gave it a fair shot — 1000 kilometres on the little roads. Fields, villages, tractors, rinse and repeat. Eventually, I gave in. Toll booth, card out, just get me there.

By the time I reached the southwest, I was half convinced the idea of “flexibility” was a practical joke. Sure, I could sleep anywhere, and I had my bike with me — but every kilometre reminded me that towing a trailer kills the very freedom I thought I was chasing.

The Bottom Line

Did I love it? Yes. It got me there. If you’re a group of friends, limited time, and you just want a solid base to travel from — this works. The van is comfortable, the bike is there when you need it, and evenings in a French campsite with cheap wine have their charm.

But as a seasoned ADV rider? No bueno. Nein danke. I don’t need flexibility if it feels like compromise. My bike is happiest when it’s not tied down, when it’s carving its way through the world instead of being dragged behind a box on wheels.