How the campervan became this summer’s coolest travel accessory

Max Levine and Thom O’Dell are recalling their most memorable moments in Vivian, their mustard yellow courier vehicle they converted into a camper van using YouTube tutorials just before Christmas. Among the highlights are drinking gin and playing cards in the rain; cruising down the motorway with the windows down, belting out pop classics; and lying in bed gazing out over the cliffs and rolling seas of St Ives.

Romantic, eh? But the reality has been a rather bumpier ride, insists Levine, a radio presenter and comedian. The windows-down motorway Motown session was the only solution they could find for the heating dials getting stuck on a long hot drive out of London last month.

Still, Vivian’s flaws have only added to her charm. “Being able to plan breaks with her has kept us both sane during lockdown,” says Levine, who spent quarantine at his flat in Brixton. He and partner O’Dell, a doctor who has been working flat-out during the pandemic, have been #vanlife disciples ever since they cast eyes on Vivian last year, and just in time. Since the Government gave the green light for campsites to reopen in May, millennial camper van rentals have rocketed to a record high. According to rental platform Fat Llama, bookings are up 346 per cent from this time last year. A-listers from Helen Mirren to Gwyneth Paltrow have endorsed it and Fat Llama says the average age of camper-van renters is now between 28 and 33.

Among Fat Llama’s most popular vans is the classic VW camper van, which naturally does best on Instagram (the hashtag for those in the know is #vanlife, which pulls up more than seven million posts of silhouetted baby blue VWs in picturesque spots from Cornwall to California). Fat Llama lets you hire one from £65 a day (customers have been known to hire them just for photo shoots) but the sexiest can go for much more. “Airbnb of Caravans” Camplify says camper-van owners can make up to £20,000 a year hiring theirs out.

The main appeal of a camper van escape pod? It’s freedom, says Clapton-based project manager Samantha Kennedy, who’s just returned from a support bubble staycation on Dorset’s Jurassic Coast with Abha Shah and Russell Cope, friends who are also her flatmates. The group had been due to spend the weekend at Noisily Festival in Leicester, but went camping when it was cancelled due to Covid.

For Kennedy and her glamping gang, a camper van struck the perfect balance: cosier (and more rainproof) than a tent, yet more rustic than a hotel. Days were spent exploring beautiful beaches and evenings were spent round the firepit drinking cider from the on-site cider farm. They were even treated to a celestial display from a comet on the final night — “a world away from the city” in less than a four-hour drive, she insists. Who needs Australia’s Great Ocean Road or Portugal’s beautiful beaches when you’ve got Cornwall’s dusty coastline and Dorset’s chalky clifftops straight outside your camper van door?

But there’s more to a UK camper van trip than heading south-west on the M4. To avoid getaway gridlock, indiecampers.co.uk, Europe’s largest fleet of camper vans, has a section of its site dedicated to lesser-known road trips — its London to Manchester “English Heritage” tour is among the most popular — while Camplify’s Instagram is a dazzling mosaic of off-the-beaten track staycation destinations: “Venice of the Cotswolds” Bourton-on-the-Water for a romantic minibreak; Pontsticill Reservoir in the Brecon Beacons for wild swimming; a Lancashire-based Land Rover Defender with a roof tent for going off-road. Overland Campers in Halifax is even offering converted Land Rover battlefield ambulances for wild campers who fancy hitting the Lakes or Yorkshire Dales nearby.

Freelance photographer Sam Brown insists heading off the beaten track is the most magical part of camper vanning. She’s been exploring the UK in her 1998 Peugeot Boxer Auto Sleeper, Juno, ever since lockdown restrictions were eased. Her highlights include the Preseli Hills in Pembrokeshire, Assynt in Scotland, and Northumberland’s Pennines.

A recent trip, looking for a remote campsite late at night on the North York Moors, will stay with her in particular. “I lost my GPS and phone signal, so decided to park up in a village instead,” she recalls. “Just as I was hopping into bed, there was a knock on my door. It was the local policeman, who had heard reports of a camper van going round in circles. He kindly let me stay there for the night.”

In the morning, there was another knock at the door. “It was the neighbour, apologising profusely for involving the authorities. He then offered me some eggs from his chickens, and asked if I wanted to park up in his field full of Icelandic sheep.” You don’t get stories like that on a package holiday in Spain.

Over the last couple of months, Brown has grown so attached to Juno she’s decided to embrace the nomad life full-time. Next month, she plans to drive the van down through France, and is using her GenerationXit.com blog, Instagram and YouTube channels to encourage others to do the same.

Levine agrees a camper van opens up opportunities beyond a week-long staycation. While you’re working from home, “there’s no reason why you can’t set up camp somewhere with wi-fi, do your emails and calls during the day, then jump in the sea and light a BBQ in the evening”, he says. Now that’s remote working.