How I Bought a Van in France on a Tourist Visa

I didn’t plan on buying a van in Paris. I didn’t even know how to drive a manual car. Five days later, I was leaving the city with a 2012 Citroën Nemo. I’ll tell you here how I bought a European van in France on a Canadian tourist visa!

This is the story of Nemo. The right calls, the bad ones, the paperwork headaches (again, like with my Mexican van). And why small vans quietly win the fight!

How Nemo Entered My Life

Paris, France. That’s where Nemo and I met. On the internet.

I was on a tourist visa, freshly landed, trying to build a European life with limited cash access. Zero desire to wait months to live. I needed something cheap, discreet, cost-effective, and fast. I was in Europe in 2019 with just a backpack. Some travel friends I met during my Southeast Asia tour offered to host me whenever I came to Europe. I took them at their word. Accommodation was not the worst because I had friends. Train prices, going out to the big cities, and car rentals can cost a lot. I know this time I wanted freedom. Go outside the mainstream places. So I searched on Le Bon Coin, which is like the Facebook Marketplace in France.

After a couple of visits and a lot of research, I’ve set my eyes one: The Citroën Nemo. It ticked every box. Small. Affordable. Forgettable in the best way.

In five days in Paris, I bought it and left. Simple as that. Cash, signature, thank you, and goodbye.

What I felt at the time?

Stress. A lot of it.

I barely knew how to drive a manual car. I learned the hard way, in Paris traffic, with adrenaline doing most of the work. Lucky for me, diesel engines are forgiving. I still ended up changing the clutch later, once I had practised enough, not to destroy the new one immediately. RIP poor clutch brûlé. That replacement happened in Morocco, where car maintenance is absurdly affordable. I’ll write a full post about that soon, including a garage recommendation in Marrakech.

Bad idea energy back then? Definitely.

Regrets? None.

When Things Went Wrong (and Right)

Some things were painful.

Finding the right paper. Insurance. Registration. Being Canadian on a tourist visa with no European driving record meant long calls, long waits, and expensive solutions. Insurance alone took patience and money.

Mechanically, I learned much later that one piston had been blocked for a long time. Everything was fixed before I sold the van, but it explained a lot, in hindsight, and the smell.

And yet, when I looked back, everything went well. 25,000 km in over 30 countries in 2 years and never got stuck on the side of the road somehow.

I’ve also lost my key at the Anjunadeep Festival in Dhërmi, Albania. We had to break the window in order to access the van again. And the door I’ve scratched in Montenegro… These stories deserve their own post (which will come!), but it can all happen, and it’s all fixable!

Nemo was perfect in how that matter. Easy to park. Invisible. No height limits. No “no campers” signs forcing me away. I later travelled through Europe with motorhomes, and suddenly everything felt harder. Parking restrictions. Size anxiety. Constant planning.

With it, I blended in.

Sprinter, VW T4, Kangoo… small vans pass everywhere. That’s the real luxury.

A moment that made me think, “This is van life for real”?

Honestly. Every day.

Why I Kept Nemo

I kept it as long as I needed it. Why change a running system? With gas cost inflation, no way! If I needed more comfort, I signed up for one Workaway‘s available opportunities near me or rent cheap places.

Eventually, a new partner and I moved together into the same van, and Nemo had to go. That was the only reason. Not burnout. Not regret. Just evolution.

The Van Facts

• Model: Citroën Nemo (2012)
• Engine: 1.3 diesel
• Mileage at purchase: 123,000 km
• Price paid: €3,200 on Le Bon Coin (easy to withdraw in a few days)
• Transmission: Manual. Yes. That was… a learning curve.

What I Loved

Fuel efficiency. When gas prices exploded in Europe in 2022, I was still paying about €50 for a full tank and driving 600 to 700 km. That alone kept me calm when everyone else was panicking.

What I Hated

The smell. Which turned out to be a blocked injector, not the van itself. Small spaces are sometimes annoying on rainy days.

Lesson learned: trust your nose.

What Van Life Actually Taught Me

If I had to buy again, I wouldn’t change anything. Truly. The bumps are part of the learning curve. Every wrong turn teaches you something.

What beginners underestimate?

Their own courage. Their adaptability. Their ability to figure it out.

What matters versus Instagram nonsense?

Not aesthetics. Function. Discretion. Freedom.

Hidden costs?

They exist. Repairs, paperwork, and insurance surprises. Accept it. Find the cheapest country to do them and add it to your list!

Red flags when visiting a van?

The smell. The sound. The feel. The seller. Use your senses. Trust your gut.

What should people stop romanticizing?

The perfect van. You’ll miss space no matter the size. Things will fall. Things will break. Breathe. You’ll find your rhythm.

Buying a Van in France on a Tourist Visa

Yes, I bought Nemo on a tourist visa. And yes, it’s possible.

Address and Registration

You need a French address. Or rather, a French friend. Mine was one boy from my Canadian road trip in Wild Rose! So, so lucky again. Forever thankful to you (you know who you are)!

Car registration in France is done through ANTS, a government platform. If you’re on a long-term visa or working holiday visa, you can usually access it with your identification number.

On a tourist visa, you can still register a car under your name, but it must be linked to a French resident’s address. That person signs a letter, provides ID, and agrees to receive official mail. The car is yours. The address is theirs. This is mainly for fines and official notices.

Insurance

This was the hardest part for me.

As a Canadian with a Canadian driver’s license, insurers had no driving record for me. Despite over 15 years of driving experience in my country, none of it seems to count.

I paid around €800 for one year with Direct Assurance. I know, I know, for €3,000 makes no sense. But it was the only one I found, and it was okay with me.

They told me I should switch to a French license after six months. I didn’t. I was on a tourist visa. I kept my Canadian license and never had an issue. I was never stopped in Schengen countries. Once in North Macedonia for speeding, we couldn’t understand each other, laughed, and I was let go.

The following year, I renewed my insurance policy at the same price.

This is not legal advice. This is simply what happened in my case.

Would I have been fully covered in an accident? I don’t know. Some questions remained unanswered, and they didn’t end up mattering for me. Again, this is not a you-should-do-this-guide. It is a look-what-happened and how-it-worked-fine for me.

Registration Timeline

Once you buy a car, the seller writes the sale date and both names on the carte grise. You then have 30 days to update the registration.

That deadline is stressful when you don’t yet know how the system works.

If you can’t do it online, there are still old-school registration offices that handle everything for a fee. Humans. Paperwork. Relief. Perfect for when you registered under a friend’s address.

Contrôle Technique

France requires regular vehicle inspections called Contrôle Technique. Frequency depends on the car’s age and condition, but it’s mandatory. Before selling a vehicle, you need a recent one (less than 6 months old).

Compared to Canada, it’s annoying and genius at the same time. You then know for sure the state of the vehicle you’re about to purchase. It’s about €100.

When I did mine before selling Nemo, they flagged a blocked injector. That repair cost me €1,000. Painful, but fair. It also explained the strange smell.

The Conversion (Keep It Simple)

I kept Nemo minimal.

A basic floor using materials from Leroy Merlin (think Home Depot).

Insulation? Blankets and Velcro on the ceiling and walls. Yes, really. I removed everything when summer came back.

Kitchen and shower gear came from Decathlon. Water jugs. Camping basics.

That was it.

For electricity, toilets, and showers, check my post on my first road trip on my Van Life page. The systems were almost identical. Mediterranean coastal countries are excellent for solar if you go that route.

Apps and Parking in Europe

Forget iOverlander here.

The app you need in Europe is Park4Night.

It shows parking spots, user photos, reviews, incidents, and campgrounds if you have the budget. I often went to campgrounds just for the showers. Sometimes I asked. Sometimes I didn’t.

Toilets?

Lidl supermarkets. Cafés. Restaurants. Or digging a hole when needed. Europe is far more populated than the Americas. Planning matters.

France is especially generous, with many camping car areas offering free parking, toilets, and sometimes electricity.

The Numbers (Because They Matter)

• Bought Nemo for about €3,200–€3,400
• Sold it 2.5 years later for €4,700
• Added about 25,000 km more to it
• Repairs in Marrakech (clutch, brakes, door repair, oil, filters, wash): under €450
• Injector repair before sale: €1,000

Even with repairs, I sold the van for more than I had paid for it. It took two weeks to sell.

Lucky? Yes. Once again.

Prepared? Also yes.

One Last Thing

Don’t wait for the perfect setup.

Just do it.

Nemo was never perfect. He was enough.

If you’re Googling this at 2 a.m., you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

What’s your dream van? And where will you find it?