Our motorhome trip to Edinburgh quickly went from “Five Famous” to wild and dirty

The first drama was that the puppy vomited in the back somewhere outside Birmingham. “We need another bag,” my sister moaned from the back as she put it away. I couldn't help much because we were bobbing along in the fast lane. While you have to take corners with some caution in this campervan because it hangs behind swings like a trailer, on straight and narrow roads you can chug along at a pretty high speed and stay comfortable.

If you were a flower child driving to San Francisco in the 1960s, speed (of your vehicle) might not have been the most important thing to you. But the van can shift gears when you need it, which was lucky because we had to reach a campground.

We arrived after a ten-hour drive, were given a map with our property on it and parked in a semicircle of five caravans.

What's the etiquette for camping? We waved happily to the others, told the dogs not to disturb them, and set about getting ready for the evening. After half an hour, we had cracked the three switches that made the gas stove work, the pasta was on, the wine was open, and the Scrabble board was on the table that comes with the camper (it locks into place on the inside of the passenger door. Cool).

The evening sun shone through the surrounding pine trees and we sat under the awning on the side of the van, listening to the distant chirping of a woodpecker and making fun of those who paid for expensive Airbnbs in Edinburgh. It was a real adventure.

Getting ready for bed was exciting too. I tapped a small flat screen above the driver's seat, opened the pop-up roof and hoisted myself up. I was nervous about this space beforehand. Would I feel claustrophobic? Not at all. So spacious, with three small window hatches I could open to let in more air. I googled the roof's weight limit to check I wouldn't fall through in the night (150kg, so I figured that wouldn't be a problem), got my pillow from the trunk and unrolled my duvet.