It is 3am and I have four browser tabs open comparing how different websites decide what counts as a “dog-friendly” campsite. The honest answer, after an hour of digging, is that mostly they don’t decide anything. They just ask. So here is the dog-friendly campsite scoring system I built instead, one you can actually see the workings of.
The problem with existing dog-friendly ratings
There is a genuinely big player in this space already. DogFriendly.co.uk lists more than 50,000 dog-friendly businesses and sends scouts to research venues by phone questionnaire or in-person visit. They run a bi-monthly subscription magazine, a VIP membership with partner discounts, and an annual public-vote awards event. It is a proper, established operation. The Caravan and Motorhome Club has its own “Paws of Approval” rating too, one to five paws, voted on by members, but it only covers the Club’s own sites, not the hundreds of independent campsites like the one we stayed at this month.
What none of them have is a rating you can actually see the workings of. DogFriendly’s scouts decide what they decide, and that decision does not come with a published checklist. You get a result, not a method. That is the gap I want to fill here, not by inventing a new industry, just by being transparent about the handful of things that actually matter when you turn up somewhere with two small dogs who think every campsite exists purely for their benefit.
Our approach: tested, not phoned in
Same rule as everything else on this blog. We only score campsites we have actually stayed at, with the dogs, in person. No phone questionnaires, no relying on what a website claims about itself, and nobody pays to be rated well. If a site is mediocre for dogs, the score says so.
The dog-friendly campsite scoring system, version one
This is a first version and it will get refined as we test it against more sites. Right now it covers eight things:
A dedicated off-lead area or field. Not just “dogs allowed on site”, an actual space where they can run properly without a lead.
A safe off-lead walk within easy reach. Somewhere away from busy roads that does not need a car journey to get to.
Water access for cooling. A river, stream, or shallow water dogs can get into safely, which matters more every summer.
Facilities practicality. Steps versus ramps, distance from pitch to facilities, whether a site actually works for anyone with a mobility issue, human or canine.
Staff attitude to dogs. This one will not show up on any other rating system I have found, and it is one of the biggest differences between a site that tolerates dogs and one that actually welcomes them. You can tell within the first five minutes of a phone call.
Pub or village walkability. Whether there is somewhere worth walking to with the dogs, and whether that place is actually happy to see them.
Water bowls or dog-wash points. Small thing, genuinely useful, rare enough to be worth noting when it exists.
Breed restrictions, disclosed upfront. If a site restricts certain breeds or numbers of dogs, that should be easy to find out before you book, not discovered on arrival.
How this will show up on the blog
Going forward, campsite reviews will carry a score against these eight points, written out plainly rather than hidden behind a single star rating, so you can see exactly why a site scored what it did and decide for yourself which of the eight actually matter to you. Our own Henstent Park review was written before this framework existed, but on rereading it against these eight points, it does well: proper dog walking field, riverside walks straight from the pitch, a ramp instead of steps, and a pub landlord who talks about dogs like he means it. Future reviews will have the scoring built in from the start.
This is version one. It will change as we use it. If you have stayed somewhere brilliant or dreadful for dogs and think one of these eight points missed something important, I would genuinely like to hear it.
About the author
I’m Pete Harrison. I’m 55, I run a business, and I have a mild case of insomnia that means I spend a lot of time at 3am reading about gadgets, gear and, this time, why nobody has bothered publishing an honest dog-friendliness checklist. Things I Learnt at 3am is where I write honestly about the things I’ve actually bought, tested and lived with. No fluff, no rehashing the spec sheet. Just the real verdict from someone who uses this stuff every day.
No affiliate links in this one. Just a stop on the way home.
It is 3am, a few nights after we got back, and I am reading about a Victorian water company that flooded an entire Welsh village on purpose. We had driven past Lake Vyrnwy a hundred times without really stopping to think about it. This time we stopped, and it turns out there is a lot more under that water than fish.
An easy detour on the way home from Henstent
Lake Vyrnwy is only 20 minutes from Henstent Park, where we had just spent the weekend, so on the way home we parked up between the dam and Bethania watersports. Easy parking for a 6 metre van, no drama. From there it is a 10 minute walk up the lakeside to a little beach, where we sat with the dogs and did nothing much beyond admiring the view for a while. Then on to a tiny cafe near the Chocolate Cabin for a coffee before the drive home.
Honest caveat: the drive from Henstent to Vyrnwy is genuinely scenic, but several miles of it are single-track lane, and it was not entirely stress-free even in the Giottivan. I would not want to do that particular stretch in a bigger van. Once at the lake itself, the road around it is normal width and the parking is straightforward.
The village Lake Vyrnwy drowned
Lake Vyrnwy is not a natural lake. It is a Victorian reservoir, built in the 1880s by Liverpool Corporation to supply fresh drinking water to Liverpool and Merseyside. The dam was completed in 1888 and was the first large stone-built dam in the UK, and the first anywhere designed to let surplus water cascade straight over its face rather than through a side channel. It is still an impressive thing to stand next to.
Building it meant flooding the head of the valley, and with it the original village of Llanwddyn. It was a proper village too, not a hamlet: two chapels, three inns, ten farmhouses, and 37 houses, plus a manor house called Eunant Hall that was demolished and never rebuilt. People carried on living in the old village right up until the work was finished. A new Llanwddyn, the name it still carries today, was built about two miles away on higher ground, complete with a new church that was consecrated the day before the valves closed and the valley began to fill. The population today is around 300.
The old village never fully disappears, either. In genuine drought years the water level drops low enough that the foundations of the original buildings resurface, most recently getting attention during the 2022 heatwave. We were not lucky or unlucky enough to see any of that ourselves, the lake was full when we visited, but knowing it is down there changes how you look at the water.
The village today
Modern Llanwddyn sits above the waterline with holiday statics and lodges scattered up the hillside, a proper little tourist economy built around the lake and the RSPB reserve it now supports. Cujo and Blaze found their own stretch of stream near the static caravans to cool off in, which by that point in the weekend had become the theme of the whole trip.
Worth the stop
We have driven past Lake Vyrnwy more times than I can count without really stopping. This time, twenty minutes and a short walk turned it from a nice view out of the window into somewhere with an actual story attached, and a slightly uncomfortable one at that: a whole community moved, more or less on Liverpool’s timetable, so a city could have water. Worth building into any trip through this part of Wales, whether you are coming from Henstent Park or exploring the wider area covered in our North Wales campervan sites roundup.
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About the author
I’m Pete Harrison. I’m 55, I run a business, and I have a mild case of insomnia that means I spend a lot of time at 3am reading about gadgets, gear and, this time, Victorian reservoir engineering. Things I Learnt at 3am is where I write honestly about the things I’ve actually bought, tested and lived with. No fluff, no rehashing the spec sheet. Just the real verdict from someone who uses this stuff every day.
This post contains affiliate links, marked where they appear. If you buy through one I might earn a small commission, which costs you nothing and doesn’t change what I write.
It is 3am and I am lying awake listening to ten blokes on motorbikes drink themselves louder by the hour, on a campsite near Lake Vyrnwy that had done nothing wrong except be next to that particular group on that particular night. I gave up trying to sleep and started googling nearby campsites instead. Henstent Park was top of the shortlist. I called the next morning, they were genuinely helpful, and they found me a spot. That bad night is the entire reason this site exists on this blog at all.
Where Henstent Park actually is
Henstent Park sits in Llangynog, Powys, on the B4391, the Llanfyllin to Bala road, about 18 miles west of Oswestry. It is tucked into the Tanat Valley on the fringe of the Berwyn mountain range, right on the edge of Snowdonia National Park, with the river Tanat running along one boundary. The village of Llangynog is five minutes’ walk and has two pubs. There are several hiking trails straight from the site, including an 8 mile route to Pistyll Rhaeadr, the highest waterfall in Wales, and decent mountain biking locally if that is more your thing. Bala Lake and Lake Vyrnwy are both close enough for a half-day trip, which is exactly how our own visit ended.
It is a family-run park, open 11 months of the year, with a mix of touring pitches and a good number of privately owned seasonal holiday homes dotted around. There is a separate camping dell for small tents right by the river. I first stayed solo with the dogs. This time I brought Suzy too, because I thought it would be right up her street, and I was right.
The pitch: worth being specific about
On the first visit I got a spot in the middle of the field, no complaints, completely surrounded by hills, quiet, with only a minor B road for access so road noise is minimal. This time, booking again, I was specific: I wanted a riverside grass pitch, not hard standing. The hard standing pitches are perfectly functional but they do not look as pretty and sit closer together. They gave me Pitch 1. It is right next to the river, close enough that the riverside dog walk path runs between the water and the van, and it backs onto an unoccupied seasonal caravan and the tent area. If you are booking and can ask for it by number, ask for Pitch 1.
Worth knowing before you book: clicking “Book Now” on Henstent’s own website takes you through to Pitchup. Nothing wrong with that, it is a straightforward booking process, but it does not let you choose your actual pitch. You get allocated one. Pitch 1, the riverside one described above, is the desirable one, so if you want it specifically, call the site directly and ask rather than relying on the online booking to sort it for you.
Facilities, and why they mattered more than usual
The Giottivan has its own toilet and shower, but we always check a site’s facilities anyway. Henstent’s were genuinely good: clean, private, and noticeably cool inside despite the heatwave outside. There is also a ramp up to the block, which turned out to matter more than I expected. Suzy has rheumatoid arthritis, and it is hit and miss day to day. Some days she is doing the full dance routine to Steps, other days getting in and out of the van is a struggle. On a flare day, even with facilities on board, two steps up into the van is not always practical. A few extra metres of shuffling up a ramp beats that every time.
There is also a proper washing-up room, fridge, freezer, washing machine, dryer, and sink, exactly the kind of thing we would have loved in our old VW, especially in this heat. And tucked onto a shelf next to the fridge, a stash of books, DVDs, and some proper blast-from-the-past board games, Buckaroo and Headache among them, which had Suzy fully back in school-summer-holiday mode within about ten minutes.
The hottest weekend of the year, and keeping the dogs cool
We picked the hottest weekend of the year to visit, which the Giottivan handled well. Being able to open the rear doors right up helps a lot with airflow. Cujo and Blaze got their own cooling routine: sitting in the shallow river with them, and Cujo wearing an evaporative cooling jacket (size XXS on him), which genuinely worked well.
I take this more seriously than I used to. Cujo has a heart condition, as regular readers know from an earlier post, and heat is not a small thing for a dog with a cardiac history. Heatstroke does not just make a dog uncomfortable, it causes direct thermal injury to the heart itself. Vets at Cornell, the American Kennel Club, and a UK-wide VetCompass study covering over 900,000 dogs all confirm the same thing: heat stress can damage the heart muscle and its electrical conduction, and up to a quarter of dogs with heatstroke develop an arrhythmia because of it. Some of that damage can be permanent, even in dogs that otherwise recover. Dogs cool themselves mainly by panting rather than sweating, which is a much less efficient system than ours, and dogs with existing cardiac conditions are specifically flagged by vets as needing extra caution in hot weather. None of that stopped us going, but it is why the river and the cooling jacket were not just nice-to-haves this trip. They were the plan.
The walk to the village, a closed cake shed, and a good man called Dei
It is a lovely walk along the river into Llangynog, the same route the dogs used to cool off along the way. The village has a genuinely charming honesty-box cake shed, the kind of thing that makes you want to move somewhere smaller. On the day we walked past, it was shut, with a handwritten chalkboard sign propped in the doorway: closed due to hot weather. Fair enough. Nobody wants to sell melted cake.
We carried on to the New Inn, which was friendly and, by the look of the menu, does proper pub food, though we did not eat there this time. We got chatting to the owner, Dei, and I asked whether he had ever thought about adding a little shop onto the pub, the way the Eagles does at Llanuwchllyn on Bala Lake. He said a lady runs a lovely little shop two miles away and he would not do anything to jeopardise her business. That is a small thing to say to a stranger in the pub, and it told me more about the place than the menu did.
Dinner back at the van: an Aldi steak and a bit of cheating
Back at the pitch, a steak from Aldi, cooked on the Cadac Safari Chef 30 LP Deluxe Pro QR. If you go this route, the hose and regulator matter more than you would think: we run the JD Brands 37mbar propane regulator and the matching JD Brands LPG hose, connected to a red propane tank we carry in the van. I will admit to a bit of cheating: I used the Steakmate app to get the timing and temperature right rather than trusting my own judgement. It worked. Cooked to perfection, and I am not sorry.
The kit that earned its place on this trip
A few things on board finally got a proper first test in real conditions. The windbreak took about 20 minutes to put up, definitely a two-person job, but it held rock solid in a fairly breezy spell and gave us proper privacy without shutting off the view. Alongside it we used the same tie-downs on the Fiamma canopy awning, and they were genuinely strong and effective, no flapping, no worry about the wind getting under it.
On the table, the PORTAL folding camping table earned its keep for alfresco eating, height-adjustable legs, easy up and down, no fuss. And overnight, the Warmco D4 rechargeable fan ran all night on a single charge, quiet enough not to notice, powerful enough to matter. In a heatwave, that fan alone made the difference between a decent night and a rough one.
Dog-friendliness, scored
This trip predates our eight-point dog-friendly scoring system, but scoring it retrospectively is straightforward, and honest scoring means saying where we simply don’t have the information rather than guessing:
Off-lead field: yes. A genuine dedicated dog walking field, not just “dogs allowed on site.”
Safe off-lead walk nearby: yes. The riverside path runs straight past the pitch.
Water access for cooling: yes. Shallow, safe river access right there, used daily.
Facilities practicality: yes. Ramp rather than steps into the block.
Staff attitude to dogs: good, based on a helpful phone booking and a warm welcome on arrival, though we don’t have a specific dog-related anecdote from Henstent’s own staff the way we do from the New Inn.
Pub or village walkability: yes. Llangynog and the New Inn are a five-minute walk.
Water bowls or dog-wash points: not confirmed. We didn’t specifically check for these, so we’re not claiming it either way. Worth checking next visit.
Breed restrictions disclosed: not checked this trip.
Six of eight confirmed positive, two honestly marked as not checked. That’s a strong score, and a good first real-world test of whether the framework actually works. It does, at least well enough that we’ll be tightening the “staff attitude” and “dog-wash point” questions into the booking call itself next time, rather than leaving them to be noticed on arrival.
The verdict
Henstent Park is one of those campsites that came out of a genuinely bad night somewhere else, and turned out better than anywhere I had been looking for on purpose. Quiet, dog-friendly with a real dog walking field where they can properly run off lead, good facilities that happen to work for mobility issues as well as convenience, a village worth the walk, and a pub run by someone who turns down easy money to protect his neighbour’s business. We will be back, and next time I am asking for Pitch 1 again.
Get the next van write-up
I write up every UK site we stay at in the Giottivan, the good ones and the ones I would never return to. Subscribe and I’ll send you the next honest review, plus the kit that actually earns its place on board.
About the author
I’m Pete Harrison. I’m 55, I run a business, and I have a mild case of insomnia that means I spend a lot of time at 3am reading about gadgets, gear and, this time, ten blokes on motorbikes. Things I Learnt at 3am is where I write honestly about the things I’ve actually bought, tested and lived with. No fluff, no rehashing the spec sheet. Just the real verdict from someone who uses this stuff every day.
This post contains one affiliate link, to my existing Hoka sandal review. Everything else here is unpaid. Nobody sponsored a walk along a river, and the only money that changed hands was £6.50 for a day’s parking.
It was gone 3am on the Friday night and I was doing the thing I always do, lying awake with the phone too close to my face, drawing a wiggly line along the River Dee on Komoot instead of sleeping. We live ten miles from Chester. Suzy and I both grew up practically on its doorstep. And somehow we visit about as often as people who live next to a famous landmark actually go and look at it, which is to say almost never.
The van makes it embarrassingly easy to fix that. Park up, walk in, no faff finding somewhere to leave the dogs. So on Saturday afternoon I did exactly that, parked at the Little Roodee, and went back to a Chester riverside walk we used to do all the time and had somehow let slide for years, instead of the city centre. Here’s the full route.
Full interactive route on Komoot, including elevation, timings and a downloadable GPX if you use the app.
The Little Roodee: Chester’s Cheapest Overnight, Right Next to the Oldest Racecourse in the World
The Little Roodee car park sits right next to Chester Racecourse, which everyone locally just calls the Roodee, and within sight of Chester Castle’s sandstone walls rising over the far side of the car park. I always assumed the racecourse was one of the oldest in Britain. It’s actually recognised by Guinness World Records as the oldest racecourse still in operation anywhere in the world, with racing on record here since 1539, though some accounts trace the very first meeting back to 1512. The name Roodee comes from Rood Eye, meaning the Island of the Cross, after a stone cross that stood on a silted-up island in the river back when the Romans were using this spot as a harbour.
Cheshire West and Chester Council run the car park. Our size of van gets charged under the Buses, coaches and goods vehicles over 3.5 tonnes tariff, not the standard Cars rate: £7 for up to 3 hours, £9.50 for up to 6 hours, £11.50 for up to 12 hours, or £5.50 for arrivals after 6pm through to 10am the next day, which is the rate that makes an overnight stay here genuinely affordable. We’ve stayed under that overnight rate many times. There was also a variation notice taped up next to the main board, since the council had just put the prices up from 24 June 2026.
Worth checking their current rates before you go, since councils update these things without much warning. What matters for us is that it’s a genuinely useful spot. It’s a 10 to 15 minute walk into the city centre, which makes it perfect for the evenings when Suzy and I fancy dinner in Chester with the dogs and a couple of drinks each, then a two minute stagger back to bed rather than a taxi home.
Along the River, Walls on One Side, the Dee on the Other
I hadn’t fancied the city centre that afternoon, but I did fancy a proper walk with the dogs, so I picked up the river path with the water on one side and Chester’s city walls running along the other. The walls are worth a mention on their own. They’re generally reckoned to be the oldest, longest and most complete set of city walls surviving anywhere in Britain, first built by the Romans getting on for two thousand years ago and added to steadily ever since. Walking alongside them at ground level, rather than up on the walkway that runs along the top through the city centre, gives you a completely different sense of scale.
Queen’s Park Suspension Bridge (And Why It Looks Familiar)
The path brought me out at the Groves, Chester’s riverside promenade, with Queen’s Park Suspension Bridge crossing the Dee just ahead. The current bridge dates from 1923, replacing an earlier chain bridge from 1852 that was built specifically to open up the new Queen’s Park suburb on the far bank. If it looks familiar and you can’t place why, it’s probably Hollyoaks. The bridge has turned up in the show’s opening titles across several different eras, most recently with a drone shot flying straight towards it, which is a very Chester way to become famous.
Into the Meadows
I crossed the bridge and kept the river on my left, following the path into what’s known as the Meadows, or more fully Chester’s Earl’s Eye Meadows. Once you’re through the last of the trees it opens right out into proper wide-open grassland, a real contrast after the enclosed riverside path.
There’s a good information board on site that fills in the history properly. The land was gifted to the council in 1929 by Harry and Phyllis Brown for all the people of Chester to enjoy for recreation. Phyllis Brown went on to become the city’s first female mayor. Two of the events still held on the river here are amongst the oldest of their kind in the country, the Chester Regatta, which dates back to 1733, and the Dee Mile swimming race. The name Earl’s Eye refers to an area surrounded by water that once belonged to the Earl of Chester, and drainage ditches had to be cut across the meadows in the 18th century just to let cattle graze on what was otherwise waterlogged ground. Kingfishers, kestrels and sedge warblers are all regularly spotted here, and the board mentions Friends of the Meadows, a local group set up in 1980 after resident Adele Edwards noticed the land was being neglected.
Riverside Houses and the Deva Divas
The path carries on alongside some genuinely lovely riverside houses, the kind you slow down and gawp at a bit. Cujo trotted this stretch like he owned it.
Further along, a group of people were setting up gazebos and tables near the river, clearly getting ready for something the next day. I now know exactly what it was: the Deva Divas Triathlon, run by Chester Triathlon Club, held on the Meadows every year on the first Sunday of July. It’s a women-only short-distance event, and it’s the only race ever to win British Triathlon’s Event of the Year award twice, in 2009 and 2016. My first guess was the Chester Triathlon, which was wrong, since that ran a full month earlier on 7 June. Worth knowing if you’re planning a July weekend here with a van and want to either watch or avoid the crowds.
Pleasure Cruises, a Sailing Club and a Free Ferry
A bit further on one of the local pleasure cruisers, The Jackie, came past packed with passengers, followed shortly by Chester Sailing Club with a yard full of small dinghies under cover, then a proper ferry crossing point.
The ferry only runs weekends and bank holidays from Whit through to the last Sunday in September, sailing between 10:30am and 4:30pm on request. Adult and senior fares are £1 each way, children under 15 are 50p, and dogs and bicycles are also 50p each way. It’s a genuinely useful thing to know about if you’re on foot on one bank and want to reach Sandy Lane or the Meadows on the other without doubling back two miles to the nearest bridge crossing.
Horses (Understandably Unnerved)
I also passed a couple of horses grazing right across the path with the dogs on leads, and I’ll admit I gave them a wide berth. I was once chased off a farm by a genuinely angry horse years ago, and it’s the kind of thing that stays with you. Cujo and Blaze were more curious than bothered, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
Turning Around Halfway Through the Chester Riverside Walk
I reckoned we’d gone about two and a half miles by the time I turned around, and the GPX track backs that up almost exactly. The whole loop came out at just over five miles door to door, which lines up neatly with two and a half out and roughly the same back, especially since I came back a different way rather than retracing my steps. The whole thing, including every stop to read a sign and take a photo, took just over three hours.
An Old Stone I’m Still Working On, and a Plantain Worth Knowing
Somewhere on the way back Blaze took an interest in an old stone marker, and having now had a proper look, I don’t think it’s a mile marker at all. The shape is wrong for that. It’s short and square-topped rather than the tall posts you normally see with “X MILES TO CHESTER” cut into them. What’s carved into the face looks more like a date, possibly 1710, with something else worn away above it that the lichen has taken over completely. My honest guess is this is an old parish or estate boundary stone rather than a distance marker, but I’m not confident enough in that reading to call it fact. If anyone locally knows this stone, I’d genuinely like to know what it says.
I did get a good look at the plant, though, off the back of a foraging course Suzy and I did recently with a chap called Gavin, who’s written a book about nettles. This is Broadleaf Plantain, the broad ribbed oval leaves growing in a rosette with a seed spike coming up through the middle. It’s the actual traditional remedy people reach for on nettle stings. Gavin told us that dock leaves don’t really do anything for a nettle sting beyond cooling it for a couple of minutes, but Plantain, crushed and rubbed on the skin, apparently sorts the sting out properly within about five minutes.
A Pint at The Ship, Then Back Over the Old Dee Bridge
The walk back took us past The Ship Inn at Handbridge, right by the Old Dee Bridge.
It’s properly dog friendly, does good food, and has a beer garden looking over the river towards Edgar’s Field. We stopped for a pint each. The Old Dee Bridge itself is the oldest bridge in Chester, a Grade I listed structure standing on the site of a Roman crossing, with the current red sandstone bridge largely dating from a major rebuild in 1387. It has seven arches, no two the same size, and there was a defensive gate tower on it from around 1399 until it was demolished in 1781.
We crossed it, kept walking, and were back at the van inside twenty minutes.
What I Wore: Hoka Infini Hike TC Sandals
Five miles, one pub stop, riverside path, meadow grass and a bit of gravel track, all in the Hoka Infini Hike TC sandals I reviewed a couple of weeks ago. Still no blisters, still no smell. This walk is exactly the kind of mixed terrain they were built for, and they didn’t put a foot wrong.
Would We Do It Again
Without question. Just over five miles, flat the whole way, two decent bits of history at either end of the loop, a pub stop, and the whole thing starting and finishing at a car park that costs less than a round of drinks. The bit that actually sticks with me is how close it all was the whole time. Ten miles from home, a walk we used to do all the time, and it had been years since we’d last bothered. No excuse for the gap, and no excuse to leave it that long again.
I write up every UK site we stay at in the Giottivan, the good ones and the ones I would never return to. Subscribe and I’ll send you the next honest review, plus the kit that actually earns its place on board.
About Pete
I’m Pete Harrison. I’m 55, I run a business, and I have a mild case of insomnia that means I spend a lot of time at 3am reading about gadgets, gear and ways to make life work better. Things I Learnt at 3am is where I write honestly about the things I’ve actually bought, tested and lived with. No fluff, no rehashing the spec sheet. Just the real verdict from someone who uses this stuff every day.
No affiliate links in this one. Every site, pub and beach below was paid for with my own money, and the verdicts are exactly what I told Suzy in the van afterwards.
It was about 3am and I was doing the maths on a tank of diesel. Not for any good reason. Just one of those nights where the brain will not switch off and a calculator feels like company. The number was not pretty. Which is roughly how I arrived at a decision that has shaped our whole first season in the Giottiline Giottivan 60T: stay close to home.
We are lucky. Home is within an easy run of North Wales, so close-to-home still means mountains, coast, castles and some genuinely good pubs. Over six weekends between March and May we worked our way through six sites, most of them within an hour or so of the front door. Some were superb. One I will never repeat. Here is the honest account of all six, in the order we stayed at them, so you can copy the good ones and avoid my mistake.
A note before we start. Along the way I also learnt a fair bit about actually living in the van. We ditched the sleeping bags we used to throw in the old VW Transporter and switched to a proper duvet, which made an absurd difference to how well we slept. We also worked out which board games are any good for two people in a small space without taking up half a cupboard. Both of those deserve their own write-up another time. For now, the sites.
1. Rhuallt Country Park, Saint Asaph
We started gently, with Suzy, at Rhuallt Country Park just off junction 29 of the A55. It is an adults-only touring site and it is immaculate. Clean, well maintained, spacious hardstanding pitches, and the kind of quiet that makes you remember why you bought the van in the first place.
The bonus here is the White House, the site’s own pub and restaurant, a couple of minutes’ walk from the pitches. We had a lovely meal there. It is dog friendly in the bar section, which matters to us because Cujo and Blaze come everywhere, and the food was a proper cut above what you expect when something is this convenient to where you are sleeping. If you want an easy, polished first night somewhere, or a low-stress base for exploring Conwy and the coast, this is a very safe bet.
2. Bron y Wendon, Llanddulas (the one I would never repeat)
The next weekend was just me and the dogs, as Suzy was away with her sister. On paper Bron y Wendon is a winner. Clean site, well run, and a genuine sea view. I was looking forward to it.
And then there is the A55. The noise from the expressway is relentless. I was pitched on the far side of the site, as far from the road as you can get, and it was still a constant roar. Not a hum you tune out after an hour. A roar that was there at midnight and still there at six in the morning.
What genuinely amazed me was that there were caravans pitched right up against the hedge on the road side, almost touching it. I cannot imagine how anyone sleeps there. They must have been driven half mad by it.
The redeeming feature is the walk. I took the coast path along to Old Colwyn, had a pint, and walked back. It was a genuinely surreal experience. On one side of you the sea is doing its beautiful thing. On the other, the A55 is roaring past about as close as a motorway can be. Lovely and maddening at the same time. The walk I would do again. The site, never.
3. The Drovers Arms, Rhewl (a Brit Stops night)
The following Friday I tried something different: a Brit Stops night at the Drovers Arms near Ruthin.
If you have not come across Brit Stops, it is worth knowing about. It is an app, which is a big improvement on the old printed guide, listing hundreds of pubs, farm shops, vineyards and attractions across the UK that will let you park your motorhome or campervan overnight for free. There is no pitch fee and no electric hookup. The unwritten deal is simply that you give them your custom: have a meal, buy a few things, support the business that is hosting you. For a one-night stop on the way somewhere, or just an easy Friday escape, it is brilliant value and it takes you to places a campsite never would.
The Drovers Arms is a great example of why the scheme works. Great welcome, genuinely good food, and loads of space to park the van properly rather than wedging it into a corner. There is also a beautiful riverside walk that starts directly across the road from the pub, which is the perfect way to walk off dinner or start the morning before you move on. Exactly what a Brit Stops night should be.
4. Ty’n Yr Ardd, Rhuallt
Back to Rhuallt the next weekend, but a completely different sort of stay. Ty’n Yr Ardd is a small Certificated Location, just five vans, adults only, no facilities on site at all. And it is all the better for it.
The views are genuinely stunning, looking out across the countryside towards the Clwydian hills. With only five pitches it is properly peaceful in a way the bigger sites cannot match. If you are self-contained in your van and you do not need a shower block, this is exactly the kind of place that reminds you why small sites are often the best ones.
One important practical warning. Approach it on the A55. Do not let your sat nav bring you in from the Rhyl direction, because the lanes that way are very narrow, with almost no passing places and some very tight corners. Fine in a car, stressful in a van. Come at it from the expressway and it is straightforward.
It was Easter when we stayed, and the owners had left a little Easter gift hanging on the van door when we arrived. The kind of small, thoughtful touch you only get at a tiny family-run site, and exactly why these places win.
There are two pubs within walking distance, which for a site this size is a real treat. The first is the Blue Lion. We did not eat there this time, but the food coming out looked superb and it is dog friendly, so it is firmly on the list for next time. The second is a stunning walk over to the White House, the same pub from the Rhuallt Country Park stay, which is well worth the stroll. We had a drink in both. We will be back to the site and to both pubs.
5. Maes Carafanau, Hendy (near Caernarfon)
For this one I took a climbing mate along. Maes Carafanau at Hendy Farm is a nice little site near Caernarfon, well placed for a weekend with a bit more going on than a quiet walk.
The main event was a session at Beacon Climbing Centre. Good climbing, but a word of warning if you are used to a smaller local wall: the walls here are quite a bit taller than we are used to, and you notice it about halfway up. Humbling in the best way.
Dinner was at Marina Cei, a nice restaurant down by the water, and crucially it is dog friendly, so nobody had to be left in the van. A good, varied weekend base, and Caernarfon itself with the castle is right there if you want a proper day out.
6. Dolgellau aire
The last of the six, in mid-May, was a two-night stay at the aire right in the middle of Dolgellau. This one was personal. I have childhood memories all over this part of the world, and pulling the van up in the middle of the town brought a lot of them back.
An aire, if the term is new to you, is a simple, low-cost overnight parking spot for motorhomes, common across Europe and slowly spreading here. No frills, just a legal, convenient place to stop. Being right in the centre of Dolgellau meant everything was on the doorstep.
We drove out to Fairbourne beach, which some of you may recognise as a location from the television series Under the Salt Marsh. Then, the highlight, we walked a stretch of the Mawddach Trail down to the George III pub for a pint. The Mawddach estuary on a decent day is one of the loveliest walks in Wales, and having a good pub as the turning point is exactly the sort of plan that works perfectly from the van.
Dog-friendliness, scored (added retrospectively)
This roundup was written before our eight-point dog-friendly scoring system existed, so most of it was not captured with the checklist in mind. Rather than guess, here is what we can honestly confirm for each site, with the gaps left as gaps rather than filled in with assumptions.
Rhuallt Country Park: confirmed dog-friendly pub two minutes’ walk (the White House, bar section). Whether there is a dedicated off-lead field on site is honestly not something we can confirm without a return visit. Other criteria not evaluated.
Bron y Wendon: no dog-specific facts confirmed either way. Already ruled out for us regardless, on road noise alone.
The Drovers Arms (Brit Stops): confirmed riverside walk directly across the road, and pub walkability is trivially yes since you are parked at the pub itself. Other criteria not evaluated.
Ty’n Yr Ardd: no facilities on site at all by design, self-contained vans only, so there is no ramp-versus-steps question to answer here. Confirmed dog-friendly pub (the Blue Lion) within walking distance. No water access confirmed. Off-lead field not confirmed, though with only five pitches and open countryside around it, it is a fair guess this matters less here than at a bigger site.
Maes Carafanau: confirmed dog-friendly restaurant (Marina Cei) within reach. Other criteria not evaluated.
Dolgellau aire: confirmed walkable route (the Mawddach Trail) to the George III pub, though we cannot confirm the pub itself is dog-friendly. No facilities, it is an aire. Other criteria not evaluated.
Ty’n Yr Ardd, Rhuallt Country Park and the Drovers Arms remain the three we would actually send someone to. If we return to any of them, they will get the full eight-point treatment properly, in person, rather than reconstructed from memory.
What six weekends taught me
Staying close to home because of the diesel maths turned out to be no compromise at all. North Wales has more good campervan stops within an hour of us than we could get through in a season.
If I had to rank them: Ty’n Yr Ardd and Rhuallt Country Park for a proper site with the bonus of good pubs nearby, the Drovers Arms for an easy and brilliant-value Brit Stops night, and Dolgellau for the walks and the memories. Bron y Wendon is the only one I would actively steer you away from, and only because of the road noise, which is a genuine shame given the sea view.
The bigger lesson is the one I keep relearning at 3am. The best weekends were not the ones furthest away or most expensive. They were the small, quiet, well-chosen ones close to home. If you have a van and you are tempted to always chase the dramatic long-haul trip, do not overlook what is on your own doorstep. Mine has kept me busy for a full season and I have barely scratched the surface.
More on the van itself, including the kit that has actually earned its place, is in the Giottiline Giottivan 60T review and the quick wins post. The duvet-versus-sleeping-bags verdict and the two-player board games are coming soon.
Further into the region, Lake Vyrnwy and its drowned village makes a proper day trip, and Henstent Park was the first site to get the full eight-point dog-friendly scorecard treatment in person, worth a look if you want to see the framework applied properly rather than reconstructed after the fact like the scoring above.
Long weekends in a camp chair take their toll if you’re tall. I finally sorted mine out with the Vango Hampton DLX reclining camping chair, tested on this exact trip.
Get the next van write-up
I write up every UK site we stay at in the Giottivan, the good ones and the ones I would never return to. Subscribe and I’ll send you the next honest review, plus the kit that actually earns its place on board.
About the author: I’m Pete Harrison. I’m 55, I run a business, and I have a mild case of insomnia that means I spend a lot of time at 3am reading about gadgets, gear and ways to make life work better. Things I Learnt at 3am is where I write honestly about the things I’ve actually bought, tested and lived with. No fluff, no rehashing the spec sheet. Just the real verdict from someone who uses this stuff every day.
I have no commercial relationship with any company mentioned in this post. Both products were bought with my own money after my own 3am research sessions.
These are two Giottivan quick wins I picked up the hard way over six weekends in the Giottiline Giottivan 60T. The first left a mark on my head. The second left a mark on my sleep. Here is what fixed both.
Problem one: the cab roof is at exactly the wrong height
The Giottivan is a remarkably liveable van. But there is one design quirk that nobody mentions in the brochure. When you walk from the living area into the cab, the roof drops. Not dramatically. Just enough that if you are 6 foot 2 and not paying full attention, you will catch the top of your head on the leading edge of the open storage shelf above the cab seats, the space where coats and rucksacks live.
I did this twice in the first week. Gently enough to feel stupid, hard enough to leave a graze that took ten days to heal. By week three it had become a persistent little wound because I kept catching it in exactly the same spot. It was, in the most mundane possible way, a problem that needed solving.
So at 3am, because that is when I solve these things, I went looking. I considered pipe lagging. I considered foam tape. I considered a small piece of carpet. None of them were right. Either they looked terrible or they would not stay put or they were too bulky.
What I eventually found was a set of children’s corner and edge guards. Specifically the Fairy Baby Safety Edge and Corner Guards. They are designed for sharp corners on coffee tables and furniture. They are self-adhesive, soft foam, and come in a colour scheme that is a remarkably close match to the Giottivan’s interior trim.
I fitted a length along the lower edge of the open storage shelf. It looks like it was designed to be there. Anyone who did not know would assume it was a factory-fitted trim piece. And if I do catch my head now, which occasionally still happens, there is absolutely nothing to feel. No pain, no mark, no week of wincing every morning.
It should be a factory fit. It genuinely should. If you have a Giottivan and you are over about 5 foot 10, go and order a pack now. Cost me a few pounds on Amazon and took about ten minutes to fit. One of the better tenners I have spent on this van.
I have had a bad back since I was 14. Not debilitating, just a permanent background presence that occasionally makes itself known when I sleep on an unfamiliar mattress. New hotel bed, first night always rough. New mattress at home, two weeks of adjustment. So it was entirely predictable that switching to the Giottivan’s fixed bed every weekend would cause me some issues.
The bed itself is fine. It is comfortable enough. But it is not my bed, and my back noticed immediately.
The obvious solution was a mattress topper. But here is where the Giottivan’s Modul’Space system, the clever wardrobe-swings-over-the-bed mechanism that makes the separate shower possible in a van this size, creates a specific constraint. The wardrobe needs to swing across and sit over the bed surface to allow access to the shower. If the topper is too thick, the wardrobe will not clear it and the system stops working.
Most quality mattress toppers start at about 7 or 8cm. Too thick. I needed something around 5cm that would still do a proper job on a bad back.
After a considerable amount of 3am research into memory foam densities, orthopaedic support ratings and temperature regulation claims, I bought the Panda Gel Infused Memory Foam Mattress Topper in UK Double at 5cm. Medium firm. Bamboo cover. Adjustable straps to keep it in place.
A few things worth knowing:
The Giottivan 60T bed is close to a UK double but not quite. I took a punt on the standard UK double size and it fits perfectly. There is a small amount of overhang at one side which tucks under easily and stays put.
The 5cm depth clears the Modul’Space wardrobe without any issue. When you want to access the shower, sweep the duvet to one side, which takes about two seconds, and the wardrobe swings over without touching the topper at all.
The gel infusion genuinely helps with temperature. I was half-expecting that claim to be marketing fluff, but sleeping on it in April in Wales, with temperatures dropping overnight, it did seem to regulate better than I expected. Not scientific. Just noticeably less of that overheating-then-cooling cycle you sometimes get with memory foam.
And the back? The first night I slept on it I woke up with no stiffness. The second night I forgot I was in the van. By weekend three Suzy pointed out that I was sleeping better in the van than I do at home. She was not wrong.
Neither of these is glamorous. There are no interesting specs to read out. But this is what the 3am sessions are actually for: finding the unglamorous solutions to the small problems that nobody thinks to write about until they have lived with them for a few weeks.
If you have just taken delivery of a Giottivan, or you are about to, both of these are worth sorting in week one. Your head and your back will thank you.
I am tracking everything else I am learning about the van, including accessories, campsites, what works and what does not, over in the Giottivan review. If you want to see where the van has actually taken us, I have written up six honest weekends in my North Wales campervan sites round-up, the good, the quiet and the one I would never repeat. More to come.
Both of these are about the van itself. If your back or neck is still complaining once you’re set up outside it, I’ve also written up the Vango Hampton DLX reclining camping chair, which solved a headrest problem two years of standard camp chairs never did.
Get the next van write-up
I write up every UK site we stay at in the Giottivan, the good ones and the ones I would never return to. Subscribe and I’ll send you the next honest review, plus the kit that actually earns its place on board.
About the author: I’m Pete Harrison. I’m 55, I run a business, and I have a mild case of insomnia that means I spend a lot of time at 3am reading about gadgets, gear and ways to make life work better. Things I Learnt at 3am is where I write honestly about the things I’ve actually bought, tested and lived with. No fluff, no rehashing the spec sheet. Just the real verdict from someone who uses this stuff every day.
I have no commercial relationship with Giottiline, Your Style Leisure or any other company mentioned in this post. I bought everything myself at full price.
I was awake at 3am again. Not unusual. But this particular 3am session had been going on for about three years, on and off, and it had a very specific subject: how do you fit a toilet, a shower, a fixed bed, a proper kitchen and a garage into a van that is still short enough to use as your only car?
Camping by the River Dee
This is my Giottiline Giottivan 60T review, written after taking delivery in late March 2026 and being away for the first six weekends straight. Mainly Wales. Rhuallt, Caernarfon, Brecon, Talacre, Denbigh, St Asaph. Two dogs. One very patient partner. Not a single problem with the van.
Why I replaced the VW Transporter
I had a VW Transporter on a 2014 plate, navy blue with a pop-top. I had it for five years and genuinely loved it. It was simple, it was reliable, and it went everywhere. But it had no toilet, no shower, and a bed that required converting every night and back every morning. Which is fine when you are 45. Less fine when you are pushing 55 and your back has an opinion about it.
My old VW Transporter
What I wanted was straightforward on paper: a fixed bed, a proper bathroom with a toilet and a separate shower, a garage underneath for deck chairs, cables, the BBQ and the hosepipe, captain seats up front, and an automatic gearbox. The Transporter was 5 metres. I did not want to go over 6 metres because it had to be my only car, which meant parking it at home and using it for everything.
The problem was budget. The big brands will sell you all of that, but at a price that made my eyes water. So the 3am sessions started in earnest.
How I found Giottiline
Giottiline is an Italian manufacturer founded in 2004 in Colle Val d’Elsa, Tuscany. They built a reputation for well-designed, good value campervans and motorhomes, and in 2016 they were acquired by the Rapido Group, one of the biggest names in the European RV industry. What that means in practice is Italian design flair with French group manufacturing quality behind it. The Giottivan range shares DNA with Rapido’s own vans and benefits from that group’s engineering and build standards.
In the UK they are not as well known as the German or French brands, which means you can get a lot of van for the money. That was what caught my attention at 3am when I first stumbled across them.
The 60T and where it sits in the range
The Giottivan range runs from the compact 54T up through the 60B, 60T, 60FT and 64G. The 60T is the sweet spot: 5.99 metres long, 2.05 metres wide, with a rear transverse double bed, a bathroom, a kitchen, and four approved seats. It is designed for two people who want to travel properly, not rough it. You can see the full range on the Giottiline website.
The genius of the 60T, and the thing that sold me on it during one particularly productive 3am session, is the Modul’Space bathroom system. The wardrobe lives in the shower. When you want a shower, the wardrobe unit swings across and parks over the bed, leaving the full shower space free. When you are done, it swings back. It sounds like a gimmick until you realise it means you get a genuine, separate shower and toilet in a van that is under six metres long. That is not a gimmick. That is genuinely clever engineering.
The Premiere Edition
I ordered the Premiere Edition, which is the top spec. On the Peugeot Boxer chassis with a 2.2 litre diesel and an 8-speed automatic gearbox. The automatic was non-negotiable for me. The Premiere pack adds the wind-out canopy, 16 inch alloy wheels, coordinated cabin upholstery and the full Privilege pack. Mine came in light grey and looks, if I am being honest, beautiful.
Suzy and Van
Key specs: 5.99m long, 2.05m wide, 2.61m high (with the roof vent), 3,500kg MTPLM, four approved seats, two sleeping berths, 100 litre fresh water tank, Dometic 130 litre compressor fridge, Truma Combi 4 diesel and electric heating with Truma CP Plus digital controller, LED lighting throughout, 7 inch reversing camera and monitor, electric step, flyscreen on the entrance door, captain seats that pivot for the living area.
I also added a lithium leisure battery, 200w of solar panels on the roof, and a tracker. Most insurers insist on the tracker at this price point, and I got excellent cover through NFU Mutual, who were not only the cheapest quote but have the best reputation for actually paying claims.
The dealer: Your Style Leisure in Northwich
I found a dealer an hour from home in Northwich called Your Style Leisure. I drove up one December day in 2025 to have a look, not expecting much. I came away having ordered one. The van looked stunning in the showroom, felt well put together, and the people there knew what they were talking about. I ordered in early January for a vehicle already coming into dealer stock and took delivery in late March. From order to keys, around ten weeks.
Full walkthrough of the Giottiline Giottivan 60T by Nick Whale Motorhomes. I watched this more times than I can count before taking delivery
Six weekends in: the honest verdict
I have not been home for a weekend since I took delivery. That should tell you most of what you need to know. If you want the full account of where we have actually stayed, I have written it all up in my North Wales campervan sites round-up, six honest weekends including the one site I would never repeat.
The first night away we parked up with the rear doors open, made coffee, and watched porpoise swim past. That is not something that happens often. But having a van that you can just go in, make coffee at 6am without waking anyone up, and sit with the doors open watching the sea is exactly what I bought it for.
By the sea near Caernafon
At 6 foot 2 I can just about stand up inside, which matters. The bed is genuinely comfortable. The fridge is massive by campervan standards. The heating is excellent. The Truma Combi runs off diesel or electric and keeps the van properly warm even on cold Welsh nights in April. The Truma CP Plus controller means you can set a temperature and forget it rather than fiddling with dials.
Driving it as a daily is fine. The Peugeot Boxer with the 8-speed automatic is smooth and relaxed on the motorway. It is not a sports car and it does not pretend to be, but it is easy to drive and the reversing camera makes parking manageable. I have had it in some tight spots in Wales and not embarrassed myself.
Meet Cujo and Blaze
No campervan review from me would be complete without the dogs. Cujo is a champagne-coloured long-haired chihuahua. Blaze is a black chorkie. Both rescues, both three years ago, both absolutely certain that the van was built for them. Since I wrote this, Cujo has been diagnosed with a heart condition, and I have written separately about how we finally get his tablets into him.
They travel brilliantly. For safety, they travel in a dog bed towards the back of the van with their harnesses secured to the bed, so everyone is properly contained. Cujo sleeps on the actual bed regardless of what anyone else thinks about it once we arrive. Blaze sits up in the front and watches the world go by when we stop. On our first morning away they were both sitting in the open back doors surveying a Welsh field at dawn. I will never get tired of that.
The van works well with dogs. The electric step means they can get in and out without having to be lifted every time. The wipe-clean floor in the living area is forgiving. The garage underneath is where their leads, food and water bowls live. It is a proper dog-friendly setup.
What I will cover in future posts
I bought a lot of accessories with this van and my wallet is still recovering. There will be future posts covering the specific kit I added and what I think of it, including the lithium battery setup, the solar, and various bits of camping kit that have made life easier. I have already written up two of them in the Giottivan quick wins post. The van itself is just the start.
Giottiline Giottivan 60T review verdict: would I buy it again?
Without any hesitation. It is the most expensive thing I have ever bought other than a house, and six weekends in I have not had a single moment of regret. The Modul’Space bathroom is as clever in real life as it looks on paper. The build quality is solid. The dealer was excellent. The Premiere Edition gives you everything you actually want without having to option-up endlessly.
If you are looking at campervans in this class and you have not looked at Giottiline, you are missing something. The brand does not have the same name recognition as the German alternatives, but the van is better value and, I think, better looking. I have no affiliation with them and I paid full price. That is just my honest view after six weekends and a lot of miles.
I write up every UK site we stay at in the Giottivan, the good ones and the ones I would never return to. Subscribe and I’ll send you the next honest review, plus the kit that actually earns its place on board.
About the author: I’m Pete Harrison. I’m 55, I run a business, and I have a mild case of insomnia that means I spend a lot of time at 3am reading about gadgets, gear and ways to make life work better. Things I Learnt at 3am is where I write honestly about the things I’ve actually bought, tested and lived with. No fluff, no rehashing the spec sheet. Just the real verdict from someone who uses this stuff every day.
I track health data from all my trips using the Garmin Fenix 8 for activity and sleep, and the Hume Health Pod scales for body composition. Worth reading both if the health side of campervan life interests you.
