Dear Bess,
I’m 62, recently retired, and happily married. My husband and I have a good life. I like him. I love him. But I am quietly terrified.
You see, it has always been my husband’s dream to buy a campervan and travel around Australia. Now that we’ve both retired, that dream is about to become reality. Six months. One van. Two adults. One small space that already leaks when it rains.
Here’s the thing: for most of our married life, we haven’t actually spent that much time together.
We sleep eight hours a night (which doesn’t require conversation). He worked roughly 11 hours a day, including commuting. On weekends, he played golf for about six hours on both Saturday and Sunday. Add in time with his mates, fixing the world’s problems, and I estimate we spend maybe three to four waking hours together on a good day.
It works. It’s worked for decades.
Now I’m staring down the barrel of 180 days of togetherness. No work. No golf club escape. No “I’ll be late tonight”. Just the two of us, 24 hours a day, in a vehicle smaller than our laundry.
How do I survive this without killing him – or myself?
Signed,
Fond … but frightened
Dear Fond but Frightened,
First, let me reassure you: you are not unusual, ungrateful, or secretly heartless. You are realistic.
There’s a persistent myth that loving someone means wanting to be glued to them at all times. In truth, most long marriages succeed because of space, not constant proximity. You’ve spent decades perfecting the art of parallel lives that intersect nicely. Now retirement has pulled the rug out from under that arrangement – and parked a campervan on top of it.
Let’s start with the good news: the fact that you like your husband puts you ahead of many couples attempting the “grey nomad relationship experiment”.
Now, on to survival strategies.
1. Redefine “togetherness” before you leave
Spending 24 hours a day in the same space does not mean spending 24 hours a day interacting.
You need to establish early – preferably before the engine starts – that quiet coexistence is not a sign of trouble. Reading side by side, staring out separate windows, or doing different things in the same small space all count as being together.
Say this out loud. Make it a rule. Put it on the fridge door if necessary.
2. Build in daily separation – deliberately
This is not optional. This is essential.
One of you needs to walk. One of you needs to “duck off to town”. One of you needs to sit outside the van pretending to admire a tree while actually enjoying silence.
Even half an hour apart can feel miraculous when you’ve spent the night listening to someone else breathe.
Think of separation as maintenance, not rejection.
3. Claim your own territory (even if it’s tiny)
In a campervan, space is symbolic. Decide early who owns what.
One chair outside. One shelf inside. One side of the bed. One drawer that is yours and should never be rearranged by someone who believes he’s being “helpful”.
Territory equals sanity.
4. Lower expectations – then lower them again
This trip will not be a six-month romantic montage set to acoustic guitar music.
There will be bad weather, missed turns, mechanical issues, and arguments about whether the van really needs emptying again.
You are not failing if you bicker. You are succeeding if you recover.
5. Keep separate interests alive
You are not required to do everything together just because you are retired.
If he wants to chat to strangers about diesel engines, let him. If you want to sit somewhere quietly and pretend you are alone in the world, do that.
You don’t stop being an individual because you share a marriage or a campervan.
6. Protect sleep at all costs
Nothing brings out resentment like exhaustion.
Different sleep schedules? Snoring? Restless nights? Address these issues immediately. Earplugs, sleep masks, separate blankets – whatever it takes.
You can survive many things in a relationship. Chronic tiredness is not one of them.
7. Schedule “not talking” time
You have already identified something important: much of your marriage has worked because you didn’t have to talk constantly.
That is wisdom.
Give yourselves permission to have entire mornings or afternoons where conversation is optional. Silence is not a threat. It’s a gift.
8. Keep humour as your emergency exit
There will be moments when you think, “I cannot listen to one more comment about road conditions.”
This is when humour saves lives.
Laugh at the absurdity. Laugh at yourselves. Laugh at the fact that you voluntarily signed up for this.
A sense of humour is the strongest suspension system any campervan can have.
9. Remember: this is a season, not a sentence
Six months feels enormous – until you remember that you’ve shared decades already.
You are not erasing your old life. You are trying something new within it.
And here’s the secret most couples don’t realise until later: learning how to be together differently can deepen a relationship, even if it feels uncomfortable at first.
10. Give yourself permission to change the plan
Finally, remember this: dreams are adjustable.
If six months becomes four, or three, or “never again”, that doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you listened.
Marriage is not about fulfilling fantasies at all costs. It’s about navigating reality together – sometimes with a leaky roof and a sense of humour.
So go. Pack the van. Take the trip.
Just don’t forget to take yourself – your need for space, quiet, independence and sanity – along for the ride.
You don’t need to spend every waking hour together to prove your love.
In fact, knowing when not to is often the secret to lasting it.
Warmly,
Bess