Let’s talk about rest stops, not the grim motorway kind with suspicious sandwiches and fluorescent lighting, but the kind that feel like a soft exhale. The kind where you pull over not because you’re tired, but because your soul needs a moment to catch up.

In eco campervan living, rest stops aren’t interruptions. They’re invitations. A mossy layby becomes a sanctuary. A quiet field becomes a ceremony. You boil the kettle, open the window, and suddenly the world feels less like a race and more like a rhythm.

Of course, not everyone understands this. Some folks see rest as laziness, or worse, inefficiency. But you know better. You know that pausing is a radical act of refusal. Refusal to rush. Refusal to collapse. Refusal to treat your body like a machine and your journey like a checklist.

Rest stops are where you remember why you’re travelling in the first place. They’re where grief gets a moment to breathe, joy gets a chance to stretch, and your nervous system gets to whisper, “Thank you.”

So next time someone asks why you’re parked in a quiet corner with a cup of tea and a blanket over your knees, just smile and say, “I’m in ceremony.” Because you are.

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