Van Tastic!

A few weekends ago I became an adult. I was missing an important seminal moment enabling the transgression into responsible adulthood, and it has finally occurred... I hired and drove my first ever transit van.

But why make such a fuss a van is a van is a van…right? A box on wheels, you put stuff in them you move it around the country and take it out at the other end, it's a simple enough concept and one that works terrifically well.

But just think for a minute how many people do you know have vans? Someone you can call upon to help you shift some antiques or move house or buy flat-pack furniture. And not just the ones adorned with the blue oval badge either. Immediately my mind springs to at least two people I know have vans that could be called upon in an urgent 'this bit of something needs taking to.....' scenario.

Vans have become an integral part of our society, they are available in so many guises with practically any concievable interior layout design you want. We’ve all been ‘touched’ by the presence of a van in one form or another and I think they're fantastic. I for one have a few fond van-related memories such as the familar story of a band on tour; a aged Ford transit high top christened 'The Green Pig' adorned with graffiti from 'adoring fans'. It was installed with bench seats and a cb radio to entertain it's occupants whilst taking the performers of indie-pop to the next nightclub; it ended it's days handpainted black with a collapsed axle wilting quietly by the side of the road. If that van could talk it'd be a regular Sun columnist.

You may think these days that all vans look the same, and in the case of the Renault Trafic, Nissan Primastar and Vauxhall Movano they actually are, assembled in the same production line, practically the only way to tell them apart are the badges, in fact I once sat eating cherry tomatos in the loadspace of a Renault at a bike show with a sort of hero of mine, thinking the cab was particularly plush for a van, very car like and the side sliding door was particularly handy, but I wasn't sure what van it was without looking at the branding.

Vans are wide ranging with an improbable diversity of design and endless interior spec possibilities.

Some however aren't so endearing, there’s the infamous Bedford Rascal minivan which because of the exploits of a handpuppet magician bear in a 1970’s children’s TV programme, to me it will always be a ‘Sooty van’, as drivers of such will know if they’ve ever been on the receiving end of my profanities on the road whilst being cut up or genrally annoyed by one. A friend of mine has an ex who owned such a beast - it was such a horror in the end that he left it by the side of the road one day. For all I know it's still there.

My friend Ade, a talented chap who's a guitarist in an upcoming band, owns a Fiat Doblo, it doesn't really sit well with the sexy rockstar image as it's a tiny little thing with as much street cred as wearing beer bottle tops on your shoes, it’s cutesy styling isn’t really one for pulling the ladies but does have a rally pedigree, but it's become a victim of many practical jokes, most recently a rain of ketchup and some of which have involved yours truly, but should my friend become a multi-platinum selling artist then his Doblo will become the stuff of legend I’m sure.

The Ford Transits however alone are the stuff of legend and I'm honored to have finally been able to experience one from behind the wheel. I was helping a friend move house and I have never quiet experienced the thrills that I had accellerating a fully loaded Transit down a dual carriageway and emergency stopping for fun to hear the boxes of Terry Pratchet books we were carrying at the time hit the hardboard load limiter with a gratifying drumming of dull thuds.

Now a story about vans cannot be complete without my views on white van man. The ethereal glow of grubby paintwork in my rearview mirror is a sight I’m often presented with. These challengers of the road intent on shunting you out of the way as if you're a flake of automotive snow that they must drive through with their virtual snow plough inches from your bumper, they always seem to drive at 1 million miles an hour in any traffic flow.

But where did this stereotype come from? The phrase was actually coined by BBC radio 2 presenter, Sarah Kennedy circa 1997 which to me doesn't seem so long ago, yet the white van man has been with us for seemingly an eternity.

I’m sure that every single man or woman who hires or drives a white van slips into the invisible veil of roadhog lane lover whenever they get behind the wheel. Is it an unwritten rule handed down from generation of drivers to another? Perhaps they don’t even realise they’re doing it? I have to admit with the commanding seating position, sheer size and quite frankly the fun of driving a box on wheels, I too was momentarily possessed by the white van demons. Up until stepping into the Transit driver's shoes I scoffed and swore at the van driver but now I feel I've made my peace and just avoid the damn things, as I know all to well what to expect!

White vans are of course great fun for writing in the muck that collects on the back doors, professions of love, football teams or witty slogans are transported up and down the nation’s arterial roads because of a lack of soap, sponge and bucket. My favourite being ‘I bet you wish your wife was this dirty’. And the classic ‘also available in white’.

Thankfully within a few days of my van experience my hankering for buying one finally subsided. I had tried to convince myself that it would actually be extremely practical to have one as a daily runabout, and as it would be diesel of course it would be economical. Who am I kidding? For a start I don't read the Sun and my jeans fit around my waist.

Sadly there won't be an ad near you for 'one helpful woman and van', well not for now anyway.