Forgive me for stating the obvious, but Silicon Valley is expensive. Really expensive!

Maybe I’m just naive. I’m not a native, after all. Allow me to introduce myself. My name’s David Kanel, and I’m the co-founder of Nice.

Nice is a video shopping platform that allows people to watch unboxing, haul and review videos and buy what they find interesting.

We were accepted into 500 Startups’ batch 17 this summer. Great news! The problem was, it meant finding a way to survive in Silicon Valley.

500 Batch 17 with Dave McClure

And, if I haven’t made it clear already, Silicon Valley is really expensive.

Thankfully, this wasn’t my first rodeo. My first startup, Boxc, was a part of 500 Startup’s batch 6. Then came Givesurance, my wife’s startup, that was picked up by 500 Startups’ batch 10. So at least I had some idea of what I was getting myself into.

Or, at least, I thought I did.

The times, they are a changin’

Let’s just say that it had been awhile since my last visit to the Valley, and prices haven’t gone down. Fundraising has become harder than ever.

Craigslist made it pretty clear that there was no way I could afford a room. Hotels were too expensive. Even Airbnb was out of my price range. Then there was the cost of food, utilities, gas … You get the idea. As a bootstrapped founder, I wanted to cut costs everywhere possible.

So I researched. I brainstormed. I threw my hands in the air in frustration a couple times. But then I found my solution, and it looked like this:

1998 Dodge Pleasure Way parked near by 500 Startups in Mountain View, CA

RV, sweet RV

An RV.

If I could get my hands on an RV, I’d knock out two birds with one stone: Lodging and transportation.

RVs aren’t cheap. The only way I could justify it would be to buy one for half its market value, then turn it around for a profit at the end of my stay.

After a ton of research and hundreds of Craigslist ads, there it was: A 1998 Dodge Pleasure Way in a perfect condition: 19 feet of fully-contained, sleep-anywhere, go-wherever goodness. The holy grail of RVs.

But there was a problem (isn’t there always?). I only had $10,000 to spend, and this beauty was listed at $18,000.

In an act of either madness or faith (or maybe a bit of both), I showed up at the seller’s doorstep with my limited cash in hand. Long story short, I left later that day $10,000 poorer, but one RV richer. And for the next four months, that was to be my home and office on the go.