Today is a big day for LeafSalon. Normally we talk about other folks’ books, but today, we’ve got one of our own.

It’s called Vantastic, it's published by HarperCollins, and it’s in the shops now, just in time for Christmas. As you might have guessed from the cover, it’s about caravan culture in New Zealand - and we've managed to get our mitts on never-before-published photographs, interviews and memorabilia.

We've tried to capture the wonderful feeling of freedom and security unique to the 'home on wheels' - at that time when Kiwis were in love with their Lightweights and Oxfords and Anglos and Zephyrs.

Designers Neil Pardington and Spence Levine of Wellington's Base Two design agency have done a wonderful job in capturing the atmosphere of caravanning. So we're hoping that Vantastic will stir the memories of anyone who has ever hitched up a van to the back of the car, or smelt sausages cooking in the warm air of a beach campsite. And with those campsites on expensive coastal real estate rapidly becoming an endangered species, it is a timely reminder of a way of life that is disappearing fast.

Why caravans? Here’s the introduction that explains it all:

A couple of summers ago, I visited a friend who was renting a house at Muriwai beach, on the coast to the west of Auckland. As I gingerly hacked my way around the overgrown back garden, a cold beer in my hand, I came across a caravan.

It was not a pretty sight: it had been used as a sleep-out and an office, and the bodywork was pocked with rust and dents. Three decades of wind, rain and dust had masked the shine of the painted white aluminium. The tyres were cracked and deflated, bleached after years in the sun. Still, the caravan had charm. The door creaked as I pulled it open, and a hot, musty smell came from inside. I sat down on the threadbare cushions, and then it all came back.

It took me back to my childhood; the endless summer days spent drifting around campgrounds, and rainy afternoons sprawled on a bunk reading, bored in the most pleasant kind of way.

Sitting at that tiny dinette, I remembered things that I’d forgotten for nearly thirty years. I’d forgotten the excitement of arriving at the campsite, and heaving away as I helped my father unhitch the van and put in the jockey wheel. I suddenly remembered how hard it was to wind down the parking jacks, their threads rusted and obstinate after a winter of inactivity. I remembered the plastic smell of the water bottle as I filled it up at the campsite tap, and the effort of lugging it back to the van.

There was the hiss of the gas as the kettle went on the burner, the crinkle of the groundsheet underfoot, the hot canvas smell of the awning, and the struggle to get that stubborn awning to slide through the channel along the roof of the van. And finally, at the end of so many long, hot days, I remembered climbing onto my narrow bunk – surely too narrow to sleep in safety – and trying to ignore the whine of mosquitoes, listening to the tipsy laughter of the adults outside, and waiting for the late-night whizz of the awning zip as Mum and Dad returned.

Sitting in that cramped yet comforting space, strangely cool and calm, I suddenly wanted to know more about caravans, and vicariously re-live those days. I resolved to dig out a book on New Zealand caravans from the library. But a few days later, to my surprise, I realised that there were no books celebrating this icon of Kiwi holiday culture.

So I thought I’d write one. It’s been task both rewarding and frustrating in equal measure, for surprisingly little has been written about caravans. It’s taken nearly two years of research and writing, of reading and replying to literally hundreds of letters, and poring over thousands of photographs. But along the way, I’ve encountered many warm and wonderful characters, from milk tanker drivers to clergymen to museum curators. The enthusiasm of caravanners, both lapsed and active, has been infectious.

During this short time, I’ve sensed a growing appreciation of the caravan, and caravanning is undergoing something of a revival. Sales are rising: those who have happy memories of childhood holidays in the 1970s and 1980s are now returning to the fold. We’re at a time when baches and coastal land are beyond the means of the average New Zealander, and the caravan offers a return to simpler holiday pleasures. So this book is for anyone who’s hitched up a van to the back of the V8, or tripped on the step outside the door, or smelt the sausages cooking in the warm evening air of a seaside campsite.

It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been away: welcome back.

If that's whetted your appetite, pop along to your local bookshop and check out Vantastic in the print, so to speak. Or order a copy online from Real Groovy and get free delivery.

Right, that's enough about us.