I tried van life for 2 weeks and 5 hidden costs revealed how the lifestyle isn't as cheap as I romanticized it to be

When it came to traveling in a van, I had a variety of places to park and sleep each night.

With those options came a range of prices.

For example, I could find a campsite, which ranged from free to $30 a night.

I could also search for businesses that allowed overnight parking for RVs, cars, and campers. Some Walmarts and Cracker Barrels, for example, allow this for free. Other businesses charge a fee.

My cheapest option was to head to public land owned by the Bureau of Land Management, which is completely free for campers. The downside was that this land wasn't always available or close to the major cities I was traveling through.

My most expensive option was RV parks. The parks usually have amenities like showers, laundry, electricity, Wi-Fi, and places to dump your RV's tanks. But with those amenities, however, comes a higher price.

For example, I stayed at an RV park on the second night of my trip where I paid nearly $60 for the overnight stay — the most I paid for a single night of rest on my two-week trip.

As I crossed through states and considered my options, I found RV parks charging everywhere from $40 a night to $100 a night. Usually, I opted for something cheaper like a campground, but I could see how these prices could quickly drive up the cost of what seems like a budget-friendly lifestyle.

Inside my van, I had a small kitchen with a two-burner propane stove, mini fridge, and small sink.

It was just enough space to cook simple meals. I fried up eggs in the morning and made pasta at night.

But the limited space meant dishes piled up quickly and groceries were hard to store. Between the exhaustion of traveling and my desire to avoid cleaning, I turned to eating out.

When I didn't want to cook eggs, I headed to coffee shops where I spent $15 for coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Meanwhile, eggs, toast, and coffee would cost a fraction of that if I cooked it in my van.

Eating out was convenient, and I also noticed I was spending more on impulse purchases. For example, as I made frequent stops at gas stations, I'd grab a drink, candy bar, or whatever I craved in the moment.

In two weeks, I spent a little more than $400 on eating out — more than I would in my everyday life, and more than I thought I'd spend while living in an RV.

Naturally, gas was one of the first things I budgeted for. I was planning on driving through six different states and covering thousands of miles.

But I failed to realize just how much gas prices can fluctuate and just how much driving I would actually do.

So while I had mapped out the mileage between destinations, I failed to factor in extra miles for detours, getting lost, and exploring destinations.

Originally, I expected to pay somewhere around $500 for gas, but by the end of my trip, the final cost was $170 more than that.

Perhaps the most unexpected cost during my two-week van trip was showering.

Since my van lacked a toilet and shower, I relied on RV parks and gyms throughout the trip.

I knew affordable gyms like Planet Fitness were one way to shower for cheap. The monthly cost for access to any Planet Fitness gym is $25 plus an annual membership fee of $49.

Thankfully, I snagged a free first-time visit with Planet Fitness, so my first shower was free.

I then planned to sign up for the membership since I initially thought Planet Fitness would be all I'd need for my trip. But that wasn't the case, as many of the destinations I visited lacked Planet Fitness locations.

Instead, I had to find showers in other places.

In Joshua Tree, for example, a 30-minute shower at an RV park cost $10 while a shower at a Flying J Travel Center was nearly twice that much.

To save money, I just avoided showering. For the 13-day trip, I took three showers. One was included in my RV park stay, the second was my free Planet Fitness shower, and the third was the $10 Joshua Tree RV park shower.

If I embark on a longer trip or if I do van life full time, I'll be budgeting specifically for showers.

Inside my little van was a seven-gallon water tank. This tank held the water I used for cooking, drinking, brushing my teeth, and washing my face each day.

Throughout my trip, I needed to fill the water tank a few times, and this chore often came with a price.

For example, I paid $2 to fill up my tank at a water station in Arizona and $5 at a station in Utah.

After I used my clean water, I had to dump the dirty water I used to wash dishes or my face that filled another tank. That meant either paying for that service or staying at RV parks and campgrounds with a dumping station included in the overnight price.

While $7 for freshwater might not seem like a huge cost, it could easily add up over time.

Sure, $5 here and there isn't much.

But I could easily see how these hidden costs could result in hundreds — if not thousands – of dollars if I took on the lifestyle full time.

Plus, there were plenty of hidden costs I didn't encounter. I've heard from plenty of other nomads and people living in the vans that mechanical issues can rack up bills, insuring a van or RV can cost more than insurance for an average car, and Wi-Fi and internet plans aren't cheap.

This two-week trip uncovered plenty of hidden costs, but that doesn't mean the costs weren't worth it.

Sleeping in national parks and sipping coffee in hole-in-the-wall coffee shops were things I'd gladly pay for again and again.