Blog 1.5: T'van. Part One

T'spec of, as in.

While we await the delayed start to our Euro-slog, it's perhaps as well to fill in a few details of exactly what we are going to be slogging through part of Europe in, so here goes, - and maybe skip the next couple of paragraphs if you know all about mohos and campervans:

The van (or motorhome to be accurate) is a 2022 Weinsberg CaraCompact 600MEG Edition Pepper. What a mouthful, eh? Do you wonder why it's generally referred to as 'The van'?

It's what is commonly known as a 'coachbuilt' motorhome (not to be confused with the output of the likes of Mulliner Park Ward, Hooper etc., for those of an automotive bent). All that means is that it's not just a panel van conversion, i.e. an all-steel builder's van with beds etc. plonked in it, but a builder's van that's supplied as a cab and chassis, and the manufacturer then builds an aluminium and GRP body on it and plonks beds, etc., in it.

That's all a bit simplistic to be fair, and there's an awful lot more to the construction of both flavours of van, but you get the gist.

The base vehicle is a 2022 spec Series 8 Fiat Ducato. The only real differences between it and the 2021 Series 7 are a new (ish) dash and steering wheel, a few controls, and a Peugeot-sourced 2.2 litre engine supplanting the previous 2.3 litre one, which I believe was sourced through Iveco.

It sounds like a downgrade on paper, but horsepower and torque characteristics are very similar, and it's a smooth unit to drive (and just as slow as the Iveco lump). Upgrades are available to 160hp (ours is 140) and even 180hp. I could get it re-mapped of course, but I'm somewhat nervous about fiddling while it's still under the manufacturer's warranty. Besides, how fast do we want to go with oven trays and crockery rattling around just behind our swedes?

The transmission is a manual six-speeder, and very slick too. A nine-speed ZF auto can be specified, and I'd quite fancy it together with a power hike, but this vehicle was already built when we bought it, so I was saved the not inconsiderable extra expense involved with no requirement for the associated angst.

From a driver's perspective, it's fairly comfortable - for a van. The seats are fine for a couple of hundred miles or more, and have fold-down armrests, a few adjustments, and no fripperies like heaters etc. Not that the latter bothers me one jot. Oh, and they swivel to become part of the 'lounge' area of the van. The biggest irritant is the very long reach down to the handbrake lever twixt seat and door, made worse when the RH armrest is deployed (yes, a manual handbrake. I have no idea what happened to the electric one that I was told was being added in 2022, likewise the LED headlamps. Still. Nae bother). On the subject of the cab doors - we have lots of large storage pockets in them, so a big like there. And before I forget, there's a big opening skylight up top, but obviously only to be opened while parked. All openings throughout the van have blinds and fly-nets, and open for ventilation.

Moving on to the 'habitation' area, this is where the compromises really kick in for those to whom a hotel is the only way to go. If you're such an oddball, you'd hate it. Trust me.

We, on the other hand, as you'll recall if you've been paying attention, have spent many, many hours over years under canvas, or more likely some polyester derivative, being very cramped, sometimes rather cold (no excuse for that these days though) and, very occasionally, wet. So, to be able to cook, imbibe cold drinks, maintain the freshness of butter and milk, produce ice cubes (such a luxury), eat at a fixed table, watch satellite or Fire TV, pee, shower, and ahem, the other, and sleep very comfortably on fixed raised beds is quite refreshing.

As mentioned, the driver and passenger seats swivel to face the 'lounge' area enabling chowing down at the fixed, but removable for access, dining table, and for viewing the 23 inch smart TV on its slider bracket affixed to the outer wall of the bathroom.

There's plenty of slightly-too-bright 12v LED lighting scattered about, which can be selected as the mood takes with downlighters and strip lamps at head level galore, and even lamps at foot level. Better too bright than too dim I guess, but I often find myself wishing for some kind of dimmer facility. Above the table and the window adjacent to it, there's a couple of handy cupboards with a goodly amount of storage only slightly compromised by the addition of the wifi router, satellite box and some 12v and 240v electrical odds and sods.Incidentally, all cupboards and drawers have very nice-action chrome-plated and chunky locking handles and lovely soft-close mechanisms.

Across from the swivel seats, there's a forward-facing bench seat with two safety belts, so the van can legally carry four passengers (although the back two need to go and set up a tent elsewhere if they wish to stay the night!). Removing the seat base cushion gives access to the Truma hot water and heating boiler (gas and mains electric where hooked-up to such a thing) and much of the electrical gubbins, but more of that, in more detail, in another blurb.

Opposite and slightly rearwards is the kitchen. I say 'kitchen' but in truth it's something that a student sharing a one-room flat might reasonably recognise as such.

Essentially it is a small worktop area, which is compromised by having a three-burner gas hob and a small sink cut into it. So, 'worktop' is probably pushing it a bit, as there is maybe about one and a bit square feet of usable space to actually prepare one's Ruby Murray on. OK, maybe I've overlooked the fact that there is also a drop-down flap which can be raised on the end of it next to the hob, but this then mostly blocks the habitation door while it's in use. Just go out through the cab door then you awkward sod! The lounge table's just over there too I suppose, if stuck for room.

The kitchen space does, however have a decent amount of storage space above and below it, and crucially a very good three-way full-height (gas/240v/12v) fridge freezer just to the right/rear. Like I said, cold beer, wine, dairy, ice cubes etc. etc. etc. Lovely!

Now then. Those of a more sensitive nature might wish to look away at this juncture. Standing at the kitchen's sink, if you pirouette 180 degrees and open the door that now presents itself to you, you'll see the bog. Yep. Just a few scant feet from the food prep area is the place you might wish to dispose of said grub later. I know people that would think this awfully unhygenic. To them I would say, be happy in your hotel. I don't care...

Also crammed into this tiny space, more akin to a vertical coffin especially to those of us of a more generous height and girth, is a handbasin, a large, if shallow, mirrored wall cupboard, and a shower with screen (yes, not a curtain, a screen). This in a space more akin to a shoe cupboard is definitely overkill, but I admire Weinsberg's optimism.

Mind you, that screen needs to be folded back if you wish to use the bog, oddly enough. Y'see, Weinsberg very cleverly incorporated a sliding handbasin that in one position handily covers the bog, and in the other fills half of the shower area. Very clever. Or not. The pictures might throw some illumination. Or possibly they won't.

This whole area is probably the biggest compromise in the van, and is the bit that most occupies my mind with dark thoughts regarding ripping it all out and doing it properly. More of that later too.

To be continued mañana. Or maybe later...