Nicole // Finding Home
Quit your day job. Sell your house. Ditch your junk. Turn the key to your car’s ignition, and drive to the place where you really want to be.
The beach. The wild. The mountains or the city. That place where you’ve always imagined yourself being.
For some people, these are just daydreams; ones we often replay in our imagination, featuring witty one-liners thrown at our bosses, or some kind of cool, slow motion walk. Others make them reality.
Many of us, at one point or another, have wanted to pack up and move away. Maybe not even pack — maybe just hop in the car and embark on a new, uncertain, bohemian kind of journey. Spontaneously. Freely. With ease.
I know that I have, and that many others have, too. But Nicole Pontelandolfo and her husband, John Pontelandolfo along with their dog, Aries, are actually doing it. Right now. They’re searching for an “unknown sweet home ” in their pre-owned RV, somewhere down a winding road, probably nestled near the woods, immersed in nature. They’re hoping to achieve the ever-shifting balance so many of us hope for — manifesting our dreams, but in a practical, thoughtful way.
The Pontes sold their Pitman, New Jersey home about a year ago and have been prepping for the move over the last six months. John, 34, is tall and slender. His wild black curls meet his shoulders. He’s been called “Cornhole Jesus” as a nod to his skill at the beanbag-toss game and his resemblance to a pretty modern-looking, tattooed savior. Nicole, 33, has short brown bouncy hair and large, round framed glasses. She’s petite, smiley, and lets out loud, echoing laughter often. Her warmth toasts the room.
The adventurous couple have been together for 13 years. Often, you can find John fiddling with some tools in the garage or watching the gears churn in his head, grinding to the thought of how to fix something. That’s when he’s not riding his electric motorcycle or playing Xbox. Nicole, whose personality and wardrobe are as bright and colorful as a peacock, is often caught giggling and twisting her body into elegant yoga poses. Together, the New Jersey natives value spending time outdoors — and that’s just what they plan to do more of.
Nicole Pontelandolfo, left, John Pontelandolfo and Aries on April 14, moving day.
Making the move is a lot work, I notice, sitting on a comfortable white leather couch inside the RV. The floor is newly laid and they’ve spent the last few weeks refurnishing the cabinets. They’ve transformed the once-dated looking RV into a fresh home on wheels. They tossed the tan and dingy wood for a brightening pallet of white, speckled with accents of funky colored decor. Telling from the tools scattered on nearly every surface and the way John gets up, mid-sentence — vanishing to the wonder of “Where did I leave the paint thinner?” and returns to buff some speckles of white paint off of the floor— there’s lots more to do. And they’ve got only three more weeks to do it.
—Before and After RV Gallery —
Photos provided by Nicole Pontelandolfo
The move is a lot about shedding. After all, living in an RV is a commitment. A small one, square-footedly speaking. Could you sell your house and nearly everything in it? Are you willing to narrow down your clothing collection to just four pairs of shoes and a handful of outfits? To say goodbye to friends and family for 6 months or more?
Lots of us find comfort in our stuff. Our clothes are sentimental; our homes hold memories. When spring cleaning comes around, we often have trouble tossing or donating the trinkets we’ve accumulated throughout the years. We’re often hopeful about them, too; like saving that sweet pair of jeans in case we might squeeze in them again, someday, when we’ve transformed into our hot, fit selves. Sometimes we even feel bad for giving them away. Oh, that lamp? No, I can’t give that away; Aunt Shirley gave me that. Better to put it in a box in the basement, where it’ll never be used — ‘cause it’s uglyyyy.
We ascribe value to things that extend beyond monetary. Our stuff makes us feel safe. Our stuff makes us feel good. We like to put them on display and show people what we’ve got. We can’t wait to rip that tag off a new dress once we’ve purchased it. We often want what’s new, even if what we already have isn’t broken. It’s that whole materialism and capitalism thing that we’ve lived around our entire lives.
But not for the Pontes.
“It’s all an act of detaching,”
said Nicole, about the move.
For them, stuff makes them feel, well, kinda stuck. Even burdened. Worse than gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe. It feels more like dog shit. And they’re a bit tired of that weight (and metaphorically, probably the smell.) This new adventure is largely about letting go of stuff to make space for the things that really matter in life: memories and adventure; ever-changing destinations; the great outdoors; fresh air and fresh perspectives. To them, letting go feels good. Lighter; free; even whole, the couple said.
“It feels better to not have those things,” said John. Sometimes you don’t even realize the weight they hold until you shed them, he added.
What the Pontes are searching for can’t be found in an isle at Home Goods. It can’t be bought or sold or borrowed. They can’t hang it up on a wall or put it on a shelf. And no matter how cute it is, one of those rustic little wooden signs that read “Life is an adventure” just isn’t gonna cut it. Instead, they’re going to embark on an adventure, for real.
The decision to move didn’t happen overnight. It took years of wondering and questioning where they want to be and what they find important, Nicole said.
“It wasn’t a revelation. It was just having the courage to downright do it,” she added.
Looking back, it seems they’ve always kind of had an itch to move. After living in their beloved Pitman home for almost a decade, they began thinking of moving, but weren’t sure where. Maybe the mountains, they thought, or maybe somewhere warm. In the end, it was hard to decide on a single destination, and making another long-term commitment of buying or renting a house.
“We wanted to move and we wanted to travel and we didn’t want to be locked down to another house again. For me, I just didn’t want to be locked down anywhere, like — I just wanted to be where I wanna to be,” said Nicole.
That’s where the RV came in. It seemed like a perfect compromise; less stuff and more destinations without firm commitment. After they decided, they just needed to sell their house, find the right RV, set a date and find an income to make it happen.
On a road trip to Florida a few months ago, the couple stumbled upon a Kampgrounds of America campsite, and unexpectedly, their future income. The couple will work in tandem at the KOA in Cooperstown, NY, for six months. Together, they’ll learn the ropes of opening and closing a campground while working as part of a work-share program, where they will receive free lodging in exchange for paid work. They’ll both be part of the maintenance team, while Nicole will also work toward a Creative Director of Activities role, designing fun classes and events at the campsite. Working at KOA will allow them to bounce around the country, spending months at a time at different locations they choose.
The job also allows them to work within their passions. As a certified yoga instructor and years of experience as a Customer Service Representative at a paper merchant company — real life Dunder Mifflin — Nicole hopes to share her love of yoga with local communities and within each campsite they visit.
“He [John] loves tinkering, he’s a self-taught tinkerer. He just loves projects and anything like that,” said Nicole.
And he’s a really good one, too. John worked as an electrician for years before heading out in the RV. From cars to heating and cooling, to electric work and computers, John is the ultimate handyman. He can even remodel your bathroom, or as it turns out, an entire RV.
“I think not having a day job, which takes up a majority for your time, my energy will be focused on the way I want to live. And that’s helping people, servicing people in a holistic way, the way that yoga does,” said Nicole.
So Nicole can share her yoga, and John can tinker.
Nicole Pontelandolfo, left, Aries, and John Pontelandolfo watching the sun set in Cooperstown. NY. Photo provided.
“That’s what this whole thing is about,”
she said,
“doing more of what we love.”
Still, so much of what they’re seeking is unknown. Where do they really want to go? How long will they stay? That lack of certainty feels more exciting than frightening, they said. Not knowing where exactly the road will take them, but knowing the road is there and ready to ride is what makes this new lifestyle such a thrilling experience.
“We don’t know if we’re going to be there for the next year, or five years. It’s just a way to get us out. Anything could happen while we’re on the road,” said Nicole.
“Its more or less the adventure, you know? Rather than a destination,” John added.
When the Pontes tell their story, it elicits varying reactions. Some squeal with excitement for them. Some think they’re idiots. Others are envious of their courage, wishing they could take a spin behind the wheel. Regardless, everyone tends to agree: it’s a gamble for sure, and bold.
Obviously, quitting your day job to travel cross-country in an RV is a departure from security. Nicole is leaving her 13- year position at her father’s paper company. Her father built the business, where Nicole has worked since she was 18. While her brother opened a business of his own, and her sister had plans in cosmetology, Nicole dedicated herself to the company. In the end, she wanted a change.
Leaving her co-workers, which felt to her like a little family, wasn’t easy. And it wasn’t easy for her father, John Guarnere, either. Between the fear of failure, and watching his daughter walk away from the business he hoped she’d stay a part of, it was tough news for him, she said. While she’s out exploring on the road, he’s hopeful she’ll return to the family business, she added.
Gina Amato, describes Nicole as her “golden friend,” an ode to the Girl Scout anthem, “Make new friends, but keep the old - one is silver and the others gold.”
The two met back in second grade and instantly became close friends. After Nicole moved to Williamstown, New Jersey, before third grade began, the two lost touch, until they were reunited about 16 years ago, after Nicole’s Sister, Danielle Guarnere, ran into Amato while working at a candy store in the Deptford Mall.
“I’ll never forget — her red pigtail bunned hair, funky glasses, parachute pants and crop shirt, almost unrecognizable from the young girl I once knew her as. We exchanged numbers and from that moment on, the years that we missed soon reappeared as if they never went missing from us. I had gotten my best friend back,” Amato said.
Nicole’s new lifestyle is both surprising and not to Amato. Nicole has always been a “spontaneous, free spirited, loving and passionate soul,” she said. So, it’s not shocking that Nicole would spread her tie-dyed wings and fly off in search of new experiences. But knowing the love and closeness Nicole shares with her family — her grandmother, niece and nephews — she knows how challenging leaving would be for her.
“I couldn’t be more proud of her. For wanting to share her passion in a larger way, wanting to impact even more people than she already does. Not knowing what will happen and still going anyway. I feel that overpowered my sadness of her leaving,” said Amato.
Anyway, it seems neither time or distance could ever keep the two apart, she added.
“We are soul sisters,”
she said.
On April 13, the night before they move, the uncertainty of the future creeped in for the couple.
“It’s nerve-wracking. It’s overwhelming,” John said, at the realization that tomorrow has finally come.
Cooperstown is up for their first adventure, and after that, they’ll be onto the next — wherever that may be. Though, they do have some destinations in mind; Key West, Colorado and maybe Arizona. They hope to visit some National Park Services across the country. Mostly, they don’t know. A lot of it will be left up to chance and choice, when the time comes.
What they’re really searching for isn’t as much of a place as it is a feeling, and it’s a hard one to describe, they said.
“It’s just that feel, I don’t know, it’s weird. It’s not the state, it’s everybody’s, just -- good people. Everyone is good people out there,” John said, referring to that feeling he got in Colorado.
It’s a laid back, comfortable feel. Not rushed, like Jersey. A slower, more simple kind of approach to daily life. More appreciative of the little things, they said.
Sitting in the RV, I ask them to describe their dream life. The couple stay quiet, pensive, until Nicole interrupts the silence,
“That’s a deep motha fuckin’ question, Kell.”
After a pause, she said, “I wanna say we gon’ find out .”
She thinks.
She describes it as, “Not having a specific plan,” “truly seizing the day,” and “feeling whole,” no matter where there are. They may not know what the dream life is, defined. They may not know where exactly it lives. But they know that feeling they’re chasing.
Who knows if their new life is the dream life in the same way any of us wonder if our life decisions are right, or on the path to leading us where we want to be. Where we want to work, who we want to be, our dreams; these questions are tough to answer.
But at least they have the courage to try.
John Pontelandolfo , Nicole Pontelandolfo and Aries, next to their RV.
Follow Nicole & John’s RV adventures on their Instagram, UnknownSweetHome, or Nicole’s personal page for yoga inspiration.