At the end of his day, Lucas Philips drives to his home overlooking Spanish Banks Beach in Vancouver, near some of the most expensive real estate in Canada.
He climbs out of his black Tesla and soaks up what he calls his BԪַmillion-dollar view.BԪַ
But Philips is no wealthy property owner. His home is a Vanguard campervan berthed in a beachside parking lot.
He spends most of his life on wheels, working as an Uber driver in his leased Tesla. HeBԪַs trying to get ahead, and lives in his BԪַsweet motor homeBԪַ while taking online courses in the hope of getting a job in computer science.
Philips, who immigrated from Turkey five years ago, thinks himself lucky to share the view with mansion owners without draining his savings.
HeBԪַs a member of a community of Vancouverites living in vans, trailers and other recreational vehicles parked across the city.
Some, like Philips, use it as an economic strategy to cut costs as they plot a course to prosperity.
Others have opted for a nomadic lifestyle, and plan to move on.
But more people are sleeping in vehicles as a last resort, as they try to stave off full-blown homelessness in the notoriously expensive city.
Philips said in an interview in November that he used to pay monthly rent of $1,600 for a one-bedroom suite in North Vancouver. When his rent went up to $2,300, he decided it didnBԪַt make sense.
BԪַThe rent prices are just skyrocketing and itBԪַs really feeling not that great when you pay for rent with half of your income,BԪַ he said.
So, he bought a van and started living at Spanish Banks in October. Side benefits to the savings were that it made him feel closer to nature, and he enjoyed the van communityBԪַs friendly vibe.
He said he hoped to move back into an apartment this year to better focus on his studies.
However, others have embraced life on wheels.
Retired Californian mechanical engineer Alex Mosson, 58, was parked last week at Spanish Banks in a beige recreational vehicle he called his BԪַtiny house.BԪַ
He offered wine from a rack as he prepared a pot of clam chowder, with bacon and sourdough bread fresh out of the oven.
Newly arrived in Canada, he was joined by girlfriend Massie McCloud, 52, a retired airline pilot who lives in Kitsilano. They were planning to spend a few more nights in Vancouver, then Whistler, then head for Mexico, where Mosson used to live. In March, they plan to return for a cross-Canada journey, said McCloud.
BԪַDonBԪַt get other people jealous,BԪַ interjected Mosson.
McCloud likened the RV to BԪַa giant backpack.BԪַ
BԪַYou have all your things with you,BԪַ she said. BԪַPart of the reason we are both excited about doing this trip is that we both had really confined lives for the last several years,BԪַ said McCloud, who added that she is recovering from long COVID.
But not everyone on wheels has a choice.
Over several visits to Spanish Banks, many residents appeared to be living out of cars and pickups, ill-equipped for the purpose.
Their windows were screened with makeshift curtains for privacy, their back seats and truck beds packed with possessions.
The residents approached in these situations were more cautious.
November rain dripped off the face of one man as he made repairs to his white box truck, strewn in black graffiti. He declined to give his name for an interview, saying he found his circumstances humiliating.
Dean Kurpjuweit, president of VancouverBԪַs Union Gospel Mission said vans and trailers have become a way for some working people to stay in the city amid high conventional housing costs.
But the mission BԪַwill never advocate for living in vans as an alternative housing solution,BԪַ he said.
BԪַWe buy trailers to go on vacations. BԪַ But nobody wants to permanently (live there),BԪַ he said.
Kurpjuweit said his group had helped people move from recreational vehicles into supportive housing.
He said there is a difference between the BԪַwilderness experienceBԪַ of an RV, compared with cramped and inconvenient long-term life in the city.
Living for an extended period in a trailer in Vancouver is mostly due to the BԪַreality of the housing market here,BԪַ said Kurpjuweit.
Local residents said in summer and early fall that hundreds of people were living in vehicles at Spanish Banks. Dozens were still there in the fall, even after the City of Vancouver started warning people to move on, although their numbers dwindled with the onset of winter.
There are other campers in less scenic locations, clustered near big-box stores or scattered on quiet side streets.
Keith Light, 76, used to own a home on Pender Island, a 40-minute ferry ride to Swartz Bay on Vancouver Island. But for more than half a year heBԪַs lived in a recreational vehicle, now parked outside an east Vancouver Canadian Tire store.
In 2021, Light sold his island home to pay off debts. He said this week that it wasnBԪַt until heBԪַd relocated to Metro Vancouver that he realized housing costs were BԪַten times higherBԪַ than on Pender.
He lived with a friend, who got BԪַa little tiredBԪַ of his presence after about a year, and he moved out in May.
BԪַSo, I got online and found this R.V. I got a pretty good deal on it, and it cost me $19,000,BԪַ said Light, who lives on a monthly pension of $1,900.
He said it was comfortable but not a permanent solution.
For one thing, the van has no electricity. Light said two external generators had been stolen and the vehicleBԪַs built-in generator didnBԪַt work.
ThereBԪַs also a sense of insecurity faced by most vehicle dwellers.
ItBԪַs illegal to park a large vehicle on the street or in parks in Vancouver between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m., including at Spanish Banks, although exceptions apply.
Vancouver Board of Parks and Recreation spokeswoman Eva Cook said in a statement that illegally parked RVs remain a BԪַchallenging issueBԪַ in many communities.
Since October, 47 notices reminding owners of parking rules were issued and most vehicles parked overnight at Spanish Banks had moved, she said.
Cook said it was still working to BԪַeducateBԪַ users that overnight parking isnBԪַt allowed in parks.
Paul Kershaw, a policy professor at the University of British ColumbiaBԪַs school of population, said many people living in vans are BԪַjust as smart and as hard-workingBԪַ as homeowners.
But some have been born too late and are now locked out of VancouverBԪַs real estate market or are facing prohibitive rent on even a one-bedroom apartment.
Vancouver remains the most expensive place to rent in Canada, with the average price of a one-bedroom apartment now going for $2,633 per month, according to the National Rental Report issued last month.
Saving up for a home is also out of reach for many.
BԪַIn the mid-BԪַ70s, it took the typical young person five years of full-time work to save a 20 per cent down payment on an average-priced home. Now it takes 17 years,BԪַ said Kershaw.
Jenny Tan, a city councillor in Maple Ridge, east of Vancouver, is all too familiar with the regionBԪַs high housing costs.
She used to live in VancouverBԪַs West End in a trailer, an experience that compelled her to get into politics to try to make things BԪַa little more affordable.BԪַ
BԪַI will be super honest, if I had a choice, I wouldnBԪַt be doing it for fun,BԪַ she said.
She lived in her trailer for three years as BԪַcheerfully and optimisticallyBԪַ as she could, equipping it with a projector and hosting board games with friends.
BԪַBut look, I wouldnBԪַt have chosen that if there was a one-bedroom apartment that I could rent somewhere,BԪַ said Tan.
She said she ended up in a trailer in 2017 after doing BԪַall the right things in lifeBԪַ by graduating from university and landing a decent job.
With money tight, living in her trailer was better than paying rent. But the downsides outweighed any sense of fun.
BԪַLiving in a trailer, you are constantly in fear, stressed about losing your spot, about the bylaw officers,BԪַ she said. BԪַFor the years I lived in my trailer, I had no hot running water.BԪַ
Tan eventually moved into her parentsBԪַ house and considered her trailer life a learning experience. BԪַBut it was not the thing I would have chosen,BԪַ said Tan.
In east Vancouver, Light agrees.
Living in an RV is better than sleeping on the street, but what he really wants is a permanent home.
He said a renter should have to pay no more than 30 per cent of their income to put a roof over their head.
BԪַIBԪַm really, really hoping that I can get a bachelor suite or one-bedroom in one of these subsidized housing units in Vancouver,BԪַ said Light.
He said he spent a year on the waiting list with BC Housing.
BԪַBut unfortunately, the only way the places come up are basically when somebody dies. And thatBԪַs pretty bad. ThatBԪַs also a sad thing.BԪַ
BԪַNono Shen, The Canadian Press