As a journalist, I’m surrounded by deadlines. Every part of my working life is framed with a deadline. As many as 10 a week is not uncommon. And to paraphrase my favourite author, Douglas Adams, “I love the noise deadlines make as they whoosh by.” So when it comes to my leisure time, the last thing I want to have to deal with is a deadline.
Having to take your hotel breakfast before 9am. Only being able to catch a bus at 1.37pm. Most of all, I hate pre-booking and planning holidays. Having to be in place X for time Y fills me with dread. While some people – I call them The Organised People – love nothing better than burying their heads into a mound of OS maps and pre-booking their 2027 holiday in minute detail, that is not for me. I don’t even like pre-booking taxis on a night out.
The best camper vans and leisure vehicles, to me, are all about spontaneity – the freedom to roam where the sun is. Turning up an interesting road to see what’s at the end. The delight of a scenic vista or a traditional pub without being limited by a rigid schedule. Pre-planning neuters the joy of an unexpected treat. Being in a campervan means you always know where you’re sleeping, so why worry about being in place X or place Y?
So for a week away in summer – crucially with my wife Helen’s permission – I decided to relinquish all holiday control to AI. A multitude of AI programs already control much of our daily lives seamlessly, so it seems a logical step. As AI already surrounds us, why not take advantage of it? One of my friends suggested I get AI to write this whole feature, “but you’ll probably get rumbled because it will be written better…”
The rules were simple: I could only do things on the day, for maximum spontaneity – and all major decisions had to be via AI, using Gemini on my phone. The only rule for choosing campsites was not to stay anywhere we’d stayed before, and we could only do minimal Googling of the chosen site, so it would be more of a surprise on arrival. And we couldn’t steer AI too much – so no saying ‘take me to a campsite called Tree View in the Cotswolds’, although if you would like to choose your site, our guide to the best motorhome sites will help.
Here, however, the results had to be organic. So, how did it go?
Day 1 – a beach view
It was 9am and we had no clue where we were going. Helen likes the coast, so I asked for ‘a sunny seaside holiday’. AI helpfully suggested that ‘Spain is a classic choice for a reason. The weather is consistently hot… Touring Europe in a campervan has many benefits, but we only had a week, and I wasn’t wasting it on a ferry.
‘UK’ was hastily added to the search and also ‘near a pub serving food’, just to be on the safe side. Rather freakishly, the first campsite AI suggested – the White Horse Inn in Suffolk – I’d stayed at before (I can’t even remember why), but the second selection, Beach View in Norfolk, seemed far more promising. I booked two nights and we set off. Naturally, Google planned the route.
Just under two hours later, the motorways melted away and we were threading the campervan through pleasingly small hamlets punctuating fields of wheat. The traffic was light, the Trafic hadn’t broken down (yet), and all was good in the world.
After another hour of happy bumbling along the lanes with our minds freewheeling, we arrived at the campsite entrance. It appeared to be a Christian retreat centred around the grounds of an old manor house surrounded by trees. Mysterious. I imagined human sacrifices and villagers wearing ram’s horns dancing around a fire, chanting rhythmically while brandishing crosses.
A small sign pointed to Beach View and we entered along a gravel driveway flanked with smart new camping pods to our left. This then opened out to a wider camping field, with neat, spacious pitches. Seagulls swooped about and you could smell the sea air and glimpse the shore a few hundred yards away, ideal for fans of the best seaside destinations. Result!
An A-board with an envelope marked ‘Rosenthal’ on it caught my eye. It contained the invoice and pitch map. AI had been on it…
We parked up, hoisted the roof, plonked out the camping chairs and surveyed the surroundings. This was a gem of a site. The owner spied us and wandered over: “There’s a fresh pizza firm to the side of the pub and the path to the beach is over there.” Perfect!
Pints and unhealthy food must, of course, be earned, so we padded down to the beach and trotted about a bit pretending that we were burning calories. Helen found a heart-shaped rock, so we faked a cheesy Instagram-style picture. AI probably approved.
The stone and sand beach is near the enigmatic Sizewell nuclear power station and, despite it being summer, there were very few people on the beach. It was pleasingly unspoilt and free from shops selling Kiss-Me-Quick hats and the usual assortment of multicoloured plastic beach items.
With the sun heating our backs and a gentle breeze cooling our skin, we happily wandered back to the pub for a cooling beverage and a freshly made pizza. Idyllic. We toasted AI – it had done good!
Day 2 – another pub
Out of sheer laziness, we’d booked two days at the campsite so all AI had to recommend was activities and places to eat while we were there.
‘Good place for breakfast’ prompted Thorpeness, a 20-minute southerly walk down the coast to a place called simply The Kitchen. The clifftop walk sharpened our appetite and we were delighted to find a rustic-style outdoor seated area opposite a boating lake.
Thorpeness is one of those picture postcard Suffolk villages and should definitely be on everyone’s must-visit list. I opted for a full English, while Helen showed me up by opting for something disgustingly healthy that appeared to be the seedy remains of the bottom of a parrot’s cage emptied on top of a sorbet. Both were first-rate.
We wandered around historic Thorpeness and spotted the wonderful boating lake – Thorpeness Meare, which was created by a friend of JM Barrie and even has a series of islands named after the characters in Peter Pan. Overlooking the lake is the House in the Clouds, an amazing repurposed water tower that offers accommodation and a windmill. We ambled around these and also admired Thorney Abbey.
To quench our thirst, AI suggested we try The Dolphin Inn and this proved a great call , with a fabulous beer garden and delicious food. Recommended!
Back at the campsite that afternoon, a search for ‘nearest pub’ and AI served up the Vulcan Arms, a pleasingly odd place that was close to the beach and a leisurely 10-minute stroll from the campsite. It also recommended eating at the amusingly named Sizewell Tea café, but it was shut, so we headed to the pub a bit earlier. It opened at 4pm and it was 3.30pm, so we hung around in the beer garden and chatted to a couple of locals.
Special mention must go to the pub sign, which depicted every kind of Vulcan the painter could think of, including my favourite V-bomber, the Avro Vulcan, together with a
Spock and, just for good measure, the Roman god of fire.
For completeness, I’d have liked to have also seen a vehicle tyre on there – the first use of vulcanised rubber – and a Kawasaki Vulcan, but either way it was an endearingly quirky sign.
The pub is situated directly at the entrance to Sizewell B, so it could well be the first stop for power station workers heading home (but probably not for those starting their shift).
Despite the pleasing signage and the friendly staff, the real ale is most kindly described as ‘challenging’, so I would recommend keg beer if you’re visiting. We didn’t try the food to avoid the hardship of a post-prandial walk and wandered back to Beach View. Again, it was a delightful way to end the day with a cooling pint and that splendid view. Cheers AI!
Day 3 & 4 – Pigs in Blankets
On the morning of day three, once the caffeine from coffee number two had started to take effect and vision returned to full focus, I typed in: ‘Find me a campsite less than 50 miles from where I am that is near a pub’. The first suggestion was one north of Southwold that featured a craft ale hut built into the side of a grain silo. Intriguing.
We’d visited Southwold before and knew it well, but the Pigs in Blankets campsite was new to us, so we thought we’d give it a go.
Again, two nights were booked for ease and off we went; but not before a quick visit to the Sizewell B power station visitor centre that AI had suggested. Sadly, you have to book full tours three weeks prior to your visit (so they can run background checks to ensure you’re not international terrorists), which of course meant it was reserved for The Organised People.
The visitor centre was reasonably diverting for an hour or two, though, and we learned that a nuclear power centre is essentially a glorified kettle cooled by seawater and that camping stove components are highly radioactive (who knew?).
Shortly afterwards, the Google-aided Trafic yet again bobbled its way north up to the new campsite and didn’t break down (I still don’t fully trust it after it turned all local on us in France last year and went on strike). At this point, we hit a snag and found I’d committed the motorhoming mistake of actually booking the site for a month’s time.
I’d like to blame AI for this, but it was simply down to my own incompetence. Happily, they still had room and could slot us in on a non-electric pitch. This no longer matters to us, because it was very sunny and we have a 400W campervan solar panel topping up a 150Ah lithium battery. As Clarkson bellows: “POWER!”
The site is based on a farm, surrounded by fields, pigs, wildflowers and uncut areas of grass to encourage wildlife. A large barn has been converted into indoor seating and male and female washrooms, with washing-up sinks at one end and a games area at the other. It’s ideal for wet days.
Outside, there was lots of seating thanks to two shipping containers lined with chairs and handily close to the grain silo/craft beer and gin bar. It’s all been done really well, and there’s a flat walk through the fields to take you directly to the parking area on Southwold beach. So the location is pretty much perfect.
We’ve covered Southwold before, so we’re not going to go into too much detail here. The must-do activity is to visit the End of the Pier show of quirky machines built by Tim Hunkin.
At this point, I have to confess to a slight bit of virtual cheating. The last couple of times I visited Southwold we couldn’t do the Adnams brewery factory tour for one reason or another (mainly too many Organised People selfishly bagging all the tour spots), so I was very keen to do this. Happily, they had spaces free (Ha! In your face Organised People).
There were lots of facts and figures from this tour – the town’s brewing history can be traced back 650 years – but for some mysterious reason, after we visited the tasting room, many escaped me. I do know that Helen is not a huge fan of hoppy beers – such as their famous Ghost Ship – so I did the only gentlemanly thing I could and helped. I definitely remember there were a lot of them. Sometimes this journalism business is tough, but you’re welcome.
After all this excitement, we needed to calm down and watch the Wimbledon coverage, washed down with a couple of local beverages from the excellent Tap Room.
Tea that night was fish and chips from The Little Fish Shop, which is such a popular takeaway that they give you a buzzer to tell you when your order is ready. Happily, they also point out that this device also works in the nearby pub The Lord Nelson, so it would have been rude not to investigate this watering hole.
They had on a limited edition Adnams ale, which the brewery lacked, so in the interests of editorial thoroughness I investigated its merits. Several times. The fish and chips proved to be equally excellent and most of them made my mouth, much to the disappointment of the nearby seagulls.
Full and merry we wobbled back to the campsite. The grain silo bar was still open, so naturally I made sure their ales were fresh and hadn’t gone off. My journalism is nothing if not thorough.
Sadly, the lack of clouds meant that the evening temperature plummeted, so we retreated to the van to warm up and watch the tennis – go Draper!
Day 5 – heading for home
For breakfast, AI suggested ‘Duchies’ on Southwold High Street and this proved to be another good call by our digital pal. As the mushroom, bacon and black pudding pleasantly coated our arteries, we typed in ‘Campsite midway between Southwold and Nottingham near a good pub’ (you may be sensing a theme at this point).
Ferry Meadows was the first suggestion, but as I have visited it on numerous occasions for work it was a no-go. I once spent a pleasant afternoon there with Warwick and Sam Davis and their campervan, but that’s another story (he was great fun – his dad used to tow a caravan with an E-type Jag!).
The second AI option was Secret Garden Leisure in Wisbech and this sounded far more interesting, so we pointed the Trafic westward and slavishly followed Google. By a delightfully happy accident (See! The joys of spontaneity…), I spotted the words ‘Hethel’ en route. As any petrolhead knows, this is the home of Lotus. As a massive Lotus fan (I once owned one and enjoyed many a layby) I had to visit. While everyone knows the brand, their backstory is remarkable.
Founded in the 1950s by Colin Chapman, who was a very focused engineer and inventor, they won seven Formula 1 constructors’ championships in the 1960s and 1970s and six driver’s championships. Scottish farmer and racing driver Jim Clarke won it in 1965, together with the Indy 500, Tasman Championship and the Formula 2 championship, just for good measure. Not bad for a small factory in Norfolk based on an old Second World War airfield, and a great testament to British engineering and innovation.
Sadly, on the day of our visit, much of the staff were busy at the British Grand Prix so we couldn’t do a full tour (I can hear The Organised People tittering). I did buy a Jim Clarke T-shirt, though, and managed to blag a quick look upstairs at their classic car selection.
Hethel homage complete, we headed for the campsite and decided to stop for food in Attleborough. Eddy’s Café was AI’s suggestion, and was slightly disappointing in being one of those places with wipe-clean menus with photos. But the portions were large, the staff friendly and it was good value. The town itself was one of those forgettable places next to a bypass.
Thetford looked more promising, so we decided to stop there to stretch our legs and have a bit of an amble. AI suggested either the Dads Army museum (which we ignored) and the Charles Burrell steam museum (which looked ace). Sadly, it was shut. A sign on the door said ‘Open Tuesday 10am to 2pm and Saturday 10am to 3pm’. Not ideal.
Other than a depressing 1960s shopping centre that Douglas Adams would kindly describe as ‘squarish, made of brick and of a size and proportion that more or less exactly failed to please the eye’ there wasn’t much to recommend the town centre.
AI hopefully suggested that Thetford Priory might cheer us up, but to be honest I’m not a massive fan of mounds of stone rubble. Plus, there were a couple of drunk people shouting things inside that looked troublesome. Probably journalists.
We hit the road again and didn’t stop until we arrived at Secret Garden Leisure. This proved to be a real oasis. It’s centred around a former garden centre with large halls that have been redeveloped into a music hall, food outlets and a restaurant and bar. So food, drink and entertainment are happily all sorted.
But the best bit is the pitches, which are all individual areas set amidst trees, plants and natural features. There could be hundreds of pitches there – I’m not sure how many they actually have – but you’d never know it, because each enjoys its own private and secluded little garden area. It works well and even if you prefer quiet time rather than pubs and
music venues, you will still love this campsite. It’s one of the very few that works for everyone.
The music venue looked intriguing, and because they were hosting a Motown night we thought ‘when in Rome’ and went online to book tickets. Naturally, we ended up being directed to a table at the back of the venue because The Organised People had booked it back in 2024 together with their drinks order, but we still had a great time.
Thanks to a clever LED lantern system to signal the servers that you wanted drinks – simply upend the lantern and it turns from white to red – we were soon ‘going loco down in Acapulco’, with gin and tonics flowing as the music ebbed around us, and it was well worth the ticket price of £20. A great way to end our big fat AI holiday. Cheers AI!
Verdict
Well that’s me out of a job, then! As a human journalist I have a vested interest to loathe AI and deride its utter hopelessness at every available opportunity. But I have to admit that it worked really well on this occasion, delivering interesting campsites and dishing up excellent eateries.
Was it better than our previous (human-planned) UK camping holidays? I hate to write this, but yes, I think it possibly was. So I guess I’ll get my coat and switch the lights off on my way out…
Don’t miss my tips on motorhome security either; it can help you keep your leisure vehicle safe and secure.
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