Make Your Own Microcamper: Part 2
Thank you for reading In Her Nature, by Rachel Hewitt. This post is public so feel free to share it.
Right! Buckle in (see what I did there?!) for a series of posts in which I geek out about the process of turning a normal car into a “micro-campervan”, capable of quick(ish) and easy set-ups for family or solitary camping. In the first post, I talked about the ‘why’: why I (now) love camping in a vehicle and why others might do too. In this post, I’m going to deal with choosing which vehicle to convert into a micro-camper. In the next, I’ll talk about options for sleeping arrangements, depending on whether you want your set-up to enable you to camp alone, with a partner, with a friend, or with a whole family. The fourth post will tackle cooking and eating; and the last will encompass everything else (eg. general storage, heating, and the camping kit (tools; first aid kit etc) you might need to keep in the van). So here we go!
I’m not very interested or knowledgeable about cars, to be honest, so my choice of a car to convert into a micro-camper was not guided by anything mechanical, like engine size or 0-60mph acceleration time. My priorities were much more logistical, and they changed early on. When I first started looking, I wanted a car with the following qualities:
it would feel like a car, rather than a van, to drive and park
it would be able to accommodate 2 adults plus 3 children’s car seats (preferably with at least 2 Isofix points) when in day-to-day car mode
it would be suitable for me, alone, to sleep in before or after long-distance runs, with some storage for cooking and eating equipment. (I knew that a crucial difference between conversions is whether it’s possible to cook and eat, as well as sleep, inside the van - but I was a bit undecided about whether that was a priority for me, personally)
it would occasionally be suitable for me and my husband to sleep in, during romantic outdoorsy weekends in North Yorkshire, when his family were willing to look after the children
I could have some space inside the van to write on my laptop, or sit and read a book
it would be cheap(ish) to convert and run
it would be ULEZ compliant for times when I drove from Yorkshire to London to see friends
2 months after I purchased my car (but before I’d done any work on converting it), my husband died. I went into a trauma-induced hibernation and the idea of going running or camping again seemed as likely as learning to fly.
It took a long time to start to emerge, but when I did, indoor spaces containing lots of strangers (such as pubs, cafes, hotels) felt like *too much*: they were too noisy, too confusing, full of too many potential hazards, and they required too much of me. Staying at home seemed safer, but it was also bruisingly sad and empty without my husband. So camping became attractive, although for very different reasons than when I first started camping (on my own, with the bare minimum of ultralight kit that I could carry in my running pack). Back then, I had wanted the complete freedom to run as far as I could, and sleep without being bound by hotel bookings or check-in times. But now my desires were much less ambitious. I simply wanted to be able to get out of the house to places where I and the kids would have lots of space, quiet (if we selected our pitches right), immersion in the natural world, beautiful views, safe comfortable nooks to which to retreat, and opportunities for my girls to charge around with other children. I also liked the idea of making something new, and whilst big projects - such as writing, or renovating the house - were beyond me, converting a car into a micro-camper felt manageable. But now I needed something rather different from the conversion than I had initially intended. Now my priorities were as follows:
I still planned to use it, on a day-to-day basis, to transport my 3 children to clubs and so on, so I needed to permanently retain the back row of seats
I no longer had any childcare options, so long-distance runs on my own were off the table. I no longer envisaged that the car could be used for myself alone (and nor was ULEZ compliance a big deal, as I couldn’t see how I could plan solitary grown-up weekends in London)
instead, it needed to be possible to rig up the car to sleep 1 adult and 3 children (probably with 1-2 people in the car, and 2-3 in tent(s))
I wanted the option of 3 kids and me being able to sit inside the car, on rainy trips, to eat or watch a movie
So I chose my car initially on the basis of my first set of priorities. But when those priorities changed, it proved able to accommodate my radically different lifestyle. My car is a Citroen Berlingo Multispace car (Mk2: ie. those made between 2008 and 2018), and I’m going to spend most of these newsletters talking about the process of converting that particular model; and how a conversion might look different depending on whether you’re wanting to use it (as I originally did) for 1 person, or (as I now mostly use it) for adults plus kids. I’ll describe the benefits of a Berlingo shortly, but first, here are some other options:
From what I’ve gleaned from micro-camper blogs and chat forums, there are some makes that are favourites for converting into micro-campers; but in theory, it’s possible for any car to be used in this way, and I’ve even seen photos of people using a Toyota Yaris as a micro-micro-camper. But the best cars for micro-camper conversions are those with extra head-room.
VW Caddies are popular, but pricey, options. When I first started looking into micro-campers, I loved the look of the “Zanzibar” conversion by a company called Love Campers: it has 5 forward-facing belted seats, a full inside kitchen and can sleep up to 4 people. But it’s expensive : a second-hand VW Caddy Maxi with under 50,000 miles on the clock will go for between £20K to £30K, and the Zanzibar conversion costs £15,500 + VAT. That’s starting to get close to the cost of a much bigger campervan. Even if I decided to convert a Caddy myself, there were still some expenses that I couldn’t reduce, such as the pop-top roof. So this option was way out of my price range, even though it looked beautiful. And a Caddy Maxi was also a slightly bigger vehicle than I wanted to be driving on a regular basis.
So that brought me to the cheaper end of the micro-camper spectrum. There are a group of cars that are similar in design, even though they’re made by different manufacturers, and they’re all v suitable for conversion. They include:
Citroen Berlingo; Fiat Doblo; Ford Tourneo Connect; Peugeot Partner; Peugeot Rifter; Renault Kangoo
There are differences between each of these models (some have smaller steering wheels; electric vs non-electric handbrakes; different cup-holders and storage etc). And within each model, there are variations depending on which year it was constructed, and sometimes there are ‘XL’ or long wheelbase options to contemplate too. For example, some versions of the Berlingo have skylights/roof windows and “modutop” ceiling storage. (Pro: you can lie in bed and look at the stars. Con: reduced headroom.)
I’m not going to go into these differences, but suffice it to say that the cars in this group are all known as ‘van-based MPVs’: they are multi-person vehicles that are essentially based on the shape of small commercial vans, so most have higher roofs than “normal” cars so that they’re suitable for cargo (I can wheel a bike into the boot space of my Berlingo with no problem), sliding rear doors, large boots, and enough width to accommodate 3 full seats in the back row (so they’re big enough for my kids’ car seats). In fact, the Berlingo does also come as a commercial van as well as the MPV version, and many people who don’t ever need to use the back row of seats, don’t want rear windows, don’t mind being restricted to 60 mph on dual carriageways and 50mph on country roads (as per commercial vans), and prefer van-style barn doors at the back/boot rather than a hatchback boot door, choose to convert commercial vans into campers.
It’s the higher roof and extra cabin/boot space that makes van-based MPVs better as campers than cars of normal dimensions. This is because many camper conversions rely on folding a car’s back seats down and placing a mattress on top - so (unless your rear seats fold into the floor or unless you fully remove them), your sleeping height will be at the very least 30cm off the floor and you’ll need that extra space between the mattress and the car’s ceiling, so that you don’t thwack your face against the ceiling trim, or feel like you’re sleeping inside some claustrophobic drawer.
Because they have such a lot of extra headroom, many Berlingo MPVs are permanently adapted into WAVs (Wheelchair Accessible Vehicles). The standard-wheelbase-length WAV Berlingos often have 2, rather than 3, rear seats, which are arranged with a large space between them (into which a wheelchair can be situated), and a sloping floor with a folding ramp that extends to the ground when the boot is open - but they have very little boot space when a wheelchair is in situ.
Long-wheelbase WAV Berlingos are similar, but they have a full row of 3 back seats, and then, behind that, the wheelchair space and ramp.
WAV Berlingos are often slightly cheaper than standard MPV versions to purchase second-hand, and lots of people choose to convert them into campers. Bear in mind that the floor often has to be levelled in order to convert the WAV vehicles as campers. But they also offer things that the MPV versions don’t: they’re better as campers for people with disabilities. If the ramp is retained, it makes access to the rear of the van easier for people with reduced mobility, and some campers with disabilities use the ramp to get small mobility scooters into their campers. Alternatively, the ramp can be shortened and adapted into a step for easier access into the van, or into a storage shelf (for example, for a spare tyre), or removed altogether to create a substantial storage space. WAV conversions are also good for drivers who need the car to be able to transport a passenger in a wheelchair on a day-to-day basis, and want to use it as a micro-camper at other times.
So, with all these options in mind, I went for a ‘65 plate Citroen Berlingo (MPV version, not the commercial van version; not WAV), Mk 2 (which refers to models manufactured between 2008-2018). It has 3 seats in the back row, which fold down, but not so that they’re flat against the floor. 2 of those seats have isofix points for kids’ car seats, and my elder daughter is now tall and heavy enough that she no longer needs a car seat. It has sliding van doors for the back row (which are brilliant for getting the kids out of the car without them hurling the doors open into neighbouring cars, as they were wont to do 😬), and a hatchback boot opening. It’s diesel, with an ad-blue tank (so it’s ULEZ compliant) and a manual gearshift. There’s nothing fancy like a touch-screen (although this can be added) or GPS, and it doesn’t communicate with my phone via bluetooth - to play music from my phone, I had to buy a special cable which had a lightning connector at one end (for the phone), and dual RCA male connectors at the other, in order to plug the phone into the auxiliary inputs (which are located in the glovebox).
But I don’t miss these mod-cons at all. My previous car was a Citroen Grand Picasso, in which everything was controlled via a touch-screen, and I found it immensely stressful to have to jab in the general direction of numerous changing tabs on a screen while driving, simply in order to change the temperature. In my Berlingo, everything feels very solid, clear and simple and dependable. Fan/air-con temperature is changed by a dial. I can turn on the windscreen heaters by pressing a button. I use google maps on my phone. The phone doesn’t charge directly from the car, but I can plug it into a power bank that I keep in the glovebox. I listen to the radio. From the 12v cigarette plug, I can run a small electric coolbox or charge my Jackery power bank while I drive. It does everything I need.
It’s also the first car I’ve every driven which feels like it accommodates female physiological dimensions. I’m just shy of 5’ 4”, which is about the UK average for women. In previous cars, in order for my average-sized female legs to reach the pedals, I had to shunt the driver’s seat as far forward as it will go - *despite the car manual stating that it isn’t safe to drive in this position, because it’s too close to the airbag*. But the designers of the Berlingo seem a bit more committed to keeping female drivers safe, and I can reach the pedals without being anywhere near the furthest front position of the seat. Probably because of its seat positioning, it’s also the first car I’ve driven that hasn’t made my shins and calves ache from pressing the pedals - and there’s a comfy little ledge for my left foot to rest on when it’s not deploying the clutch. AND the whole van-style dimensions of the car and its seating help me to feel unusually elevated and confident when I’m driving.
Anyway, I’m getting overly geeky now. But, as you can probably gather, I love my little Berlingo. And the main reason I love it is that it’s not just a car: it’s a holiday-on-wheels. So the next post in this series - coming later this week - will describe how I set about turning it into a micro-camper.
Thank you for reading In Her Nature, by Rachel Hewitt. This post is public so feel free to share it.
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