How Much Does a Solo Road Trip Around Australia Cost? My 461-Day Breakdown
- 1 day ago
- 6 min read
After 43,001 kilometres across Australia, I tracked every single dollar I spent while travelling solo in my self-built 4x4 van. This is the complete breakdown of what it actually cost me, from fuel and maintenance to groceries and once-in-a-lifetime experiences, and what those numbers really mean when you’re living this kind of life.

Living on the Road for 461 Days: What This Question Really Means
When people ask me how much a solo road trip around Australia costs, they are usually not just asking for a number. What they really want to know is whether this kind of freedom is financially realistic. Whether you have to struggle to afford it. Whether van life means cutting everything down to the bare minimum just to keep moving.
Now that I’ve completed my full lap around Australia, I can finally answer that question with clarity and without romanticising it.
First of all let's start with some key-points on how I was spending my money on the road. This is personal and subjective of course but I will give you a POV of how I travelled and what my priorities where during my full lap of Australia.
This Was Not “Tuna and Noodles” Van Life
One thing I want to make clear from the beginning is that I was not living in survival mode. I cooked most of my meals in the van, but I bought proper groceries and fresh ingredients. I wasn’t surviving on instant noodles just to reduce my daily average (this is a common believe on how backpackers do afford roadtrips like this but it definitely wasn't my case). If I wanted to sit down for breakfast at a café, I did. If I felt like dinner out, I went.
At the same time, I stopped caring about material things almost entirely. I didn’t buy clothes for months, and when I did, it was one in, one out. I didn’t accumulate. I didn’t collect. I consciously chose experiences over possessions, and that decision shaped where my money went.

Choosing Experiences Over Saving Every Dollar
A solo road trip around Australia can absolutely be done cheaper than what I spent. But that was never my goal.
For example...
Queensland became one of my most expensive phases, not because Australia is unaffordable, but because I decided it would be unforgettable. I went skydiving. I swam with whales in Hervey Bay. I dived the Great Barrier Reef. I said yes to the experiences I had dreamed about for years.
I didn’t drive across an entire continent to look at it from a distance. I wanted to live in it fully, even if that meant some months were more expensive than others.

The Cost of Prevention: Why I Never Cut Corners on My Van
The biggest financial lesson from 461 days on the road was that prevention is always cheaper than recovery.
My mechanic has told me repeatedly that he has lost count of how many backpackers delay fixing small issues because they don’t have the money. They hope nothing serious happens. They gamble on luck. And then they break down in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes the repair costs more than the vehicle, and the van ends up abandoned.
I could never do that to Mitsu (my 1995 Delica), I build my van with my own hands and it became my home, my symbol of freedom and the mean that allowed my to live the life I wanted in that exact moment. My van had to be healthier than me.

If something looked like it might become a problem in a few weeks, I fixed it. Even if it wasn’t urgent. I never entered remote desert areas without knowing my engine, suspension, electrics and plumbing were solid. Once again, this van is not just transport; it is my car, my home, and the reason this entire lap of Australia was even possible. Without my van, I could never have done everything I’ve done in these years in Australia.
If you’re curious about what it cost to build Mitsu in the first place, I break it down in detail in my van conversion article
👉 here. The build was the foundation. The 461 days were the proof that the foundation worked.
Budgeting for Freedom: How I Avoided Running Out of Money
Van life looks spontaneous from the outside, but long-term travel in Australia requires structure.
When I worked on Kangaroo Island for four and a half months, I wasn’t casually saving. I had a clear financial target in mind. I didn’t leave that job until I reached it. That period became my cheapest stretch because I had almost no expenses while earning consistently. I decided not to rent a place and to take cold showers in my van for almost five months to make to most out of the money I was earning (by the way thanks for the occasional hot showers dear friends reading from Kangaroo Island :P). Living in my van while I was working, meant I could still explore the island on my days off and enjoy vanlife to the fullest even though I was 'stuck' in a remote island in the Southern Ocean. A stunning remote island I would add, which will forever have a special place in my heart. 👉 More about Kangaroo Island here if you want to have a look!
What I learn from all of this is that budgeting in advance is what prevents you from getting stuck somewhere you don’t want to be simply because you ran out of money. Freedom feels light, but it is built on planning.

So, How Much Did My Solo Road Trip across Australia Cost?
Including absolutely everything — diesel, mechanical maintenance, groceries, activities, insurance, internet, park passes, ferries, laundry, camping and every small expense in between I spent about:
$80.54 AUD per day ≈ €48 / £42
$2,430 AUD per month ≈ €1,458 / £1,264
I travelled completely solo, which means no shared diesel, no split servicing bills, and no second income unless I stopped and worked for it.

Complete Expense Breakdown for my 461 Days on the road (driving 43,001 km from Perth to Perth, crossing the red centre twice)
Before you go through the numbers, it’s worth understanding what really drives the cost. Diesel and mechanical maintenance were by far my biggest expenses, which is the reality of travelling long distances across Australia in a van. At the same time, groceries and activities reflect the balance I tried to keep between living sustainably and still saying yes to experiences. This isn’t the cheapest way to travel, but it is an honest picture of doing it responsibly without cutting corners or missing out. Also remember that these are costs I sustained by myself, of course if you are a couple or friends travelling together, Diesel and Mechanical costs will be split in half between the both of you, lowering the cost per person.
Category | AUD | EUR | GBP |
Diesel | $9,425.41 | €5,655 | £4,901 |
Mechanical & servicing | $8,316.79 | €4,990 | £4,324 |
Groceries | $4,370.17 | €2,622 | £2,272 |
Shopping & van upkeep | $4,033.87 | €2,420 | £2,097 |
Activities & tours | $3,332.73 | €1,999 | £1,733 |
Eating out | $2,177.57 | €1,306 | £1,132 |
Van insurance | $1,448.85 | €869 | £753 |
Internet & roaming | $1,425 | €855 | £741 |
Roadside assistance | $483.90 | €290 | £252 |
Ferries & transport | $462.52 | €278 | £241 |
Park passes | $403.50 | €242 | £210 |
Fine | $334 | €200 | £174 |
Camping & Airbnb | $196.50 | €118 | £102 |
Laundry | $176.52 | €106 | £92 |
Showers & leisure | $66.80 | €40 | £35 |
Gas refills | $60.45 | €36 | £31 |
TOTAL | $37,128.96 | €22,277 | £19,307 |
When I look at these numbers, I don’t just see expenses, I see decisions. Diesel and mechanical costs were the price of freedom and reliability, groceries reflect a routine that felt sustainable, and the money spent on experiences reminds me that I didn’t hold back when something truly mattered. This breakdown isn’t about how cheaply I could travel, but about how intentionally I chose to do it.

Was It Worth It?
At the end of it all, the total matters less than what it represents. This experience was never just about numbers, it was about what those numbers allowed me to do, to see, and to become over time. Living on the road changed the way I think about money, but more importantly, it changed the way I think about life. It taught me to trust myself more, to adapt, to be patient when things didn’t go to plan, and to appreciate how little you actually need to feel free.
Living on the road taught me that the cost of this kind of life is not fixed. It shifts depending on your priorities, your decisions, and how you choose to approach uncertainty. You can do it cheaper, and you can definitely spend more, but what really makes the difference is how intentional you are with your choices.
For me, every dollar I spent was part of building a life that felt like mine. And when I look back at it now, I don’t think about the total. I think about the places I woke up, the risks I didn’t take with my van, and the moments I didn’t talk myself out of. I think about how much I’ve grown, how much I’ve learned, and how different I am from the person who started this journey.
Because in the end, money comes and goes. You can earn it again, you can rebuild it, you can start over. But time, experiences, and the person you become along the way, those are the things that stay with you.

Happy Travel everyone!










