On his first family holiday, Conor Twomeyopts for the freedom of the open road. Freedom comes at a price however: rackets, curfews, and the wonderful world of chemical toilets
HOLIDAYS SCARE me, I have to admit. I'm really not very good at relaxing, so the thought of spending 10 days doing nothing more than staring at the sun-filled sky fills me with dread and fear. Not only that, my wife and I have never taken a holiday together, nor did we have any idea what to do with a three-year-old on vacation, so we had no idea what kind of a holiday we really wanted, which is how we arrived upon the idea of a camping holiday.
We reasoned that renting a camper would give us the chance to try a little bit of everything - travelling, sight-seeing and lazing by the beach, even though we really knew nothing about camping. There are a surprising number of camper rental companies all over Europe, but with no idea which are reputable, we assumed that a German company would probably offer the cleanest, most efficient camper and the best service, so settled on an outfit called DRM.
All their models seem to offer the same basic package (shower, toilet, sink, fridge, cooker), so because there wasn't a huge variation in price between them, I chose a rather large one with a double bed over the cab and two small single beds at the rear, which would give our daughter her own "room".
The only DRM depot that had our particular models available was in Dusseldorf, which was a tad north for our initial plans, but because the city is accessible via a direct Aer Lingus flight, we decided to go for it anyway.
Because Aer Lingus cancelled our morning flight and put us on the evening flight, the DRM agent kindly agreed to meet us there at the depot at 9.30pm for the hand-over, although it did come as a bit of a shock when he told us he'd be charging for the whole trip at the start, plus an extra €1,000 to my credit card as a damage deposit, effectively annexing the financial parachute I had in place in case of emergency.
It took an hour to go through the ins-and-outs of camper life. The cooker, fridge and water heater are all gas powered and controlled via a console inside the living area, while the water pump and lighting are powered by the rear battery pack. To operate any 220V appliances, you'll need to plug the camper into an external power source (available at every camp site), but for the basics, the rear battery pack is more than enough.
The two gas cylinders offer more than enough energy for several weeks, but the fresh-water tank is drained within two days, by which time the waste water tank is also full.
The chemical toilet also needs emptying every two days and that is by far the worst part of the experience. It doesn't magically transform our sewage into a fresh-smelling gel-like blob, as I expected - all the chemicals really do is keep the smell down. Emptying it involves dragging the cassette-like container to what is basically a super-sized toilet and shaking it vigorously until the contents finally work their way down the narrow expulsion pipe.
The whiff is dizzying, the view is stomach churning and the whole experience will test your love for your family to the absolute limit, particularly if you forget to mention that you've pulled out the toilet cassette minutes before they need to go.
The pictures don't really do justice to the size of the Eura Mobil Profila Alcove 580 LS. It's a whopping six metres long, 2.3 metres wide and three metres tall, a swollen lump of fibreglass wrapped around an unfortunate Ford Transit FT350 chassis cab. Driving it isn't that different to driving a standard transit - the width isn't really an issue, but our bedroom sticks out much further than the engine compartment and is easily damaged by tree branches.
Without any real bumpers a misjudged marking manoeuvre can damage the fibre-glass shell quite easily - why they don't fit parking sensors I'll never know.
Coming in at a whisker under 3.5 tonnes, you would expect the 110hp 2.2-litre turbo diesel to struggle horrendously under the strain, but it actually coped pretty well, cruising quietly and accelerating with as much verve as you'd want while driving a house around.
Cornering is something best avoided whenever possible, however, which is why we adapted our route over the Alps and into Italy to take in as many motorways and pass-dodging tunnels as possible.
The ride is surprisingly comfortable and isn't too noisy either, despite having the aerodynamics of a football stadium, although the Transit's air conditioning unit did struggle to cool the vast rear cabin, which is where our three-year-old sat strapped into her child seat watching the same Pingu DVD on her portable player over and over again.
The first night in Düsseldorf was spent in a car park (it was too late to get into any camp sites) and we were pleasantly surprised at how comfortable the beds were. Getting a good night's sleep is very possible, although without rear air conditioning, it can get pretty sticky.
The next morning was spent shopping for the basics - we had rented the kitchenware, bedclothes and some deck-chairs, but we had to stock up with food and toiletries for the trip, as well as buying our own stepladder because the electric steps weren't working anymore. Indeed, what was most surprising about the camper was how flimsy the whole thing felt.
The window-blinds constantly broke or jammed; a window hinge collapsed completely; a shelf popped out; the lock to hold the fridge door broke; one wall of the bathroom was working its way loose; one of the outer doors didn't close properly and the awning mechanism was in dire condition - all this on a brand-new, well-maintained camper with only a few thousand kilometres on the clock.
We spent the following few nights in a campsite near Lake Constance in Germany, but there wasn't much to do there, so we pressed on to Venice, where we stayed in a clean but boring three-star resort near the city for two nights.
With our sight-seeing out of the way, we then headed east to a 1,200-pitch, four-star camping resort called Union Lido, where we had intended to spend only one day, but ended staying three because it was such a pleasant place (although we did have to make the 1,200km drive back to Düsseldorf in a day-and-a-half).
At Union Lido, we had our own personal water supply and waste water drain, the pitches were huge and we were shaded by trees which helped keep the camper cool.
The private beach was a short walk away, as were two child-friendly pools and numerous on-site shops, restaurants and bars. The place even had its own dentist and health spa and because it's mostly inhabited by Germans, the 11pm curfew was rigorously adhered to so everyone got a night's sleep.
In the end, we got everything we expected from our holiday - the sight-seeing, the touring and the relaxation bit at the end - and it suited my restless nature perfectly.
Meanwhile, my wife got to take in some of Europe's sights and my daughter got to play on the beach without getting frostbitten. Even though it's a busy holiday, my brain was able to switch off from work and I did eventually relax and enjoy the adventure.
I don't know if I'll do it again any time soon, mind (I can live without seeing a chemical toilet again for a while), but it's definitely a holiday worth taking the family on at least once.
FACTFILE
Counting the costs..
Basic Camper Rental:for 10 days, including insurance €1,250
Extras:bedclothes, kitchenware, deckchairs, extra insurance €230
Total Rental Cost:€1,480
Flights:€430
Taxis:€80
Fuel:€450 (2,100km)
Campsite Prices:€25 - €50 per night
Total Campsite Costs:€250
Road Tolls:€40
Food, toiletries:€150
Eating Out:€180
Miscellaneous:€130
Total Holiday Cost:€3,190