‘It’s a bit like a Super Mario Kart,” the owner Kit had joked. And halfway up a steep hill, I got my chance to prove it. Flicking the thrilling “turbo” switch on the dashboard, I rocketed skyward.
Well, perhaps not quite skyward, but what is claimed to be the world’s only all-electric classic VW campervan for hire made easy work of it. To be honest, that was out of character as it’s a vehicle that actively encourages pottering. Often I had the impression I was careering madly along an open road only to glance at the speedo and find I was not quite doing 30mph. But it was the most not-quite-doing-30 fun I think I’ve ever had.
Kit had picked me up in his electric car at Knaresborough station and taken me the short distance to eDub HQ in the village of Farnham, North Yorkshire.
“She’s called Indie,” he told me during an introductory tour of the jolly green-and-white van. “She was built in 1973 and came from a small town called Andrews in Indiana.”
Inspired by his mother’s PhD on battery technology and “vehicle-to-grid stuff”, Kit converted the van to a right-hand drive, had a local cabinet maker fit it out (“getting every inch of space to work”), and changed the engine for a mighty battery that provides a range of 50 miles on a full charge. “But it’s an ongoing project,” he added, “constantly being tweaked and improved.”
Meanwhile, Volkswagen has been doing some tweaking of its own, with plans to launch a new electric version of the classic campervan. The ID Buzz will stick close to the original design, with a new colour motif and style quirks.
After a spin around the block to show me how Indie worked, Kit let me loose. Winding down the window (do you remember that? Our arms had motor skills in the old days) and slipping it into first – surprisingly, it’s a three-gear manual, but won’t ever stall – I set off on an adventure around the Yorkshire Dales.
My eerily quiet carriage took me first to Ripley, where I stumbled upon the Harrogate Tipple gin and rum distillery. “The shop’s been open two weeks,” distiller Steve Green told me among bottles of blueberry, gooseberry and premium gins. He spoke so enthusiastically of the subtle qualities of various botanicals that I was disappointed to be driving and unable to try his samples.
After a dip into Ripon and its cathedral, I headed for Masham to pick up some beer from the Black Sheep Brewery (for later consumption, you understand).
With a double gas hob, sink, fridge, plentiful cupboard space and a back seat that converted into a comfortable double bed, the van had everything I could desire. Its huge steering wheel also made me feel as if I was driving a giant dodgem car. And just being inside it was a pleasure. Indie had me stopping to pop the kettle on and the top up on lonely moorlands and in obscure villages whose names only a Yorkshire tongue could love. Here’s to you, Grewelthorpe, Nidd and Wath. Even the showery weather couldn’t dampen my spirits, for as the wipers scraped doggedly back and forth, the rain infused the van with that wonderful “old car” smell which took me tumbling back to infancy and my grandmother’s faithful Austin 1100.
One lunchtime, pootling along a back lane in the Nidderdale Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, I noticed a sign to the Himalayan Garden & Sculpture Park and immediately swung off in pursuit. Set in a slender glaciated valley, the 45-acre garden was adorned with rhododendrons, magnolias, azaleas and plentiful flowers I’d never seen before. There was a particularly fetching Himalayan shepherd’s hut, constructed in the kath-khuni style without nails or mortar. And of the 70 outdoor sculptures, my favourite was by Indian artist Subodh Kerkar, who had satirised 14th-century traveller John Mandeville’s claim that he’d discovered a tree in India that bore “tiny lambs” as fruit. It had been the Englishman’s first brush with the cotton plant.
I had my own brush with the lesser-known valley of Nidderdale, discovering Ramsgill’s church hidden behind an explosion of popcorn-pink cherry blossom. Reaching Middlesmoor, at the head of the dale, I jumped out for a walk on to In Moor, only to be assailed by hailstones. I took this as nature’s way of telling me to head for a campsite. And at Studfold – one of many sites where you can charge the van overnight for free – I found the owner Ian celebrating its 60th anniversary.
“The creation of the campsite started by accident,” he said. “An angler turned up at what was then my grandfather’s farm and asked if he could pop his caravan in a corner of a field.” It was a spot well chosen, as it has cracking views of hills to the east. By contrast, the previous night I’d stayed at the Old Station caravan park outside Masham, whose reception – once a goods shed – is lined with black-and-white photos of the former branch line stop axed by Dr Beeching.
On my final day I bimbled into Pateley Bridge for a stroll along River Nidd and a visit to the self-styled “oldest sweet shop in England”. Ten minutes later I was gnawing on a Pontefract cake at the local art group’s biannual exhibition. Feeling reckless, I bought tickets at the tombola stall and – boom! – snared a pack of pop-up cupcake boxes. Winners gonna win.
It was only when getting back on the train that I discovered the one downside to my trip: my cheeks ached. But that’s what comes of spending 48 hours with a great big stupid grin on your face.
• The trip was hosted by eDub (edubtrips.co.uk); Indie can be hired for £149 a night (including campsite) for three- or four-night trips. Rail travel was provided by LNER (lner.co.uk); London to York from £18 one-way. The train from York to Knaresborough with Northern (northernrailway.co.uk) starts at £7.70 one-way
