In the spring of 2024, we bought a van we planned to convert into a camper. It wasn’t a decision made overnight—the idea had been quietly growing inside us for months. During the winter, we spent our free time in front of the TV, watching YouTube videos of people who had already bought their vans, converted them, and were now traveling the world. Eventually, we decided it was our time.
At the beginning of May, we started browsing listings for a suitable van. The vision was clear: size L4H2, with air conditioning, no rust, ideally with low mileage—at least that’s what my wife wanted. I knew that would be a problem. And all of it within a budget of 100,000 CZK.
We called on countless ads and even went to see two vans in person. They weren’t bad, but one seller swore his van was an L4H2, even though the photos looked shorter. He insisted it was long. It turned out to be an L2H2. Another seller assured us the van was “healthy,” but it was missing sills altogether. Finally, we found a third ad—right in our town, Trutnov. The man was selling a Peugeot Boxer 2.2 diesel, L4H2, with welded sills and fender edges.
We went to see it, and it didn’t look bad at all. A shiny, freshly polished red body. It drove well. Decision made. The price—99,000 CZK—seemed fair. Only when handing over the van did we learn that its technical inspection expired in two days, even though the ad said it had a year left. The seller apologized, claiming it must have been a mistake. We didn’t realize this wasn’t the last “mistake.” He gave us a 2,000 CZK discount for the new inspection. A friend arranged it for us, and after a quick check, we passed without major issues. We were thrilled, thinking the van was fine and we could now just enjoy traveling. Big mistake!
Even during the purchase, I had a clear vision of the build, so that same day we drove to Liberec to buy swivel seats. They were from a Ford Transit, true, but for a great price—and we just wanted to take our new van for a ride. That same evening, I ordered all sorts of things online so the conversion could start, mainly from Nomadem.cz, where I got most of the electrical, water, and roof window supplies.
I wasn’t afraid of the build. I had renovated an entire house myself—so what’s a little house on wheels? I had a clear plan for materials and steps. I wanted to stay under 150,000 CZK for the whole conversion, so I often looked for alternative materials and methods. For example, I skipped K-Flex because of its price and instead insulated with mineral wool and polystyrene, using a vapor barrier. For furniture, I used regular 18 mm laminate instead of lightweight plywood. I just had to carefully calculate the weight of each piece and decide where to lighten or skip something. To save money, I designed a grey water tank from KG pipes. I bought a lot of material from local DIY stores and from Poland, which is just around the corner.
After five weeks of daily work, the conversion was finished. We had a bedroom, a garage under the bed with water and electricity distribution, a kitchen, a shower with a toilet, and a third seat with a foldable dining table. The van had both 12V and 230V circuits, and hot water. You can see it all in our very first video, where I introduce the van. Please be patient with the videos from 2024—it was our first season, filmed and edited entirely on mobile phones, so the quality is lower. Only in 2025 did we buy proper gear and professional editing software. And the price? I just barely went over the planned 150,000 CZK. And when the build was done and I looked at the whole van, I realized—it wasn’t actually an L4H2, but only an L3H. Still, I managed to fit everything I wanted inside.
It was time for the first trip. Our maiden journey was to Poland, two months after buying the van. And that’s when the problems started. To keep it short (since they dragged on even during our future trip to Turkey): the AC didn’t work—likely empty, I thought. The spare wheel was missing. Strange noises came from the suspension. The windshield washers didn’t work. And the rear garage doors barely closed.
After returning from Poland, we discovered the AC wasn’t empty—it was missing altogether. Someone had removed the compressor, hoses, and even cut off the wiring harness. We had to find and install everything ourselves. After buying a spare wheel, we realized the spare winch didn’t work, so we had to buy a new one too. The suspension noises came from multiple issues: we had to replace shocks, lower arms, stabilizer bar, steering joints, and bump stops on the rear axle. And the rear doors? Both had torn-off hinges, impossible to adjust or fix—we had to buy new ones. On top of that, the battery died, and the window regulator on the passenger side failed.
In short, within nine months of owning the van, repairs cost us another 100,000 CZK, including oil and filter changes. So the question is: is it worth buying a cheap van if repairs will cost as much as the purchase price? Probably not. But on the other hand—we bought a cheap van and could hit the road right away. We quickly learned what was wrong, what needed fixing, and what suited us or didn’t.
Before the next trip to Greece—which, once again, ended in Turkey—we made some winter upgrades to the interior. Today, I can say we have a van that works 100% for us. I enlarged the grey water tank made from KG pipes, expanded the clean water tank by welding two identical ones bought on Nomadem.cz, added a second solar panel, and built some extra cabinets. You can see it all in our video here.
If this article caught your interest or inspired you to start your own conversion, I’d be happy to help—with advice or even with building your dream camper according to your wishes.