Not long after VW introduced its T1 Transporter in 1950, a British owner based in Germany contacted Westfalia to see if the company could transform it into a home away from home.
Westfalia installed a bed, a folding table, some cabinetry, and curtains. That first effort became the prototype for a basic but popular Camping Box conversion, and a decade later, as the mini motorhome became more sophisticated, Westfalias were being shipped to camping fans across the world, especially to the U.S.
Other conversion companies soon followed suit, with the likes of Dormobile, Devon, Danbury, and Viking adding their ideas, pop-tops, and high-roof extensions that provided extra space and convenience.
It’s a theme that has carried on through every iteration of VW Transporter since, with VW jumping on the band-Vanagon itself in 1988 when it launched the California, based on the T3.
Today, the ultimate expression of the VW factory-built camper is now based on the larger Crafter van platform and named, appropriately, the Grand California.
As a past owner of a 1972 T2 Bay Window Westfalia, having a few days of vanlife with the Grand Cali certainly demonstrates not just the obvious years of progress from a technology perspective, but also how VW’s campers are clearly no longer for everyday volks. Such is the swing from utility to luxury.
Nostalgia time first. I bought my Westy sight-unseen on eBay (not the last time I’d do this), but it served my family well for a couple of years. It was our daily driver, made a little easier, if slower, by its three-speed auto transmission. It took us on day trips, to music festivals, and campsites across the U.K. and France. We even managed a lethargic lap of the Monaco Grand Prix circuit in it.
The conversion wasn’t quite ideal for a family of four. Although the folding rock’n’roll bed was comfy for my wife and me, the kids had to make do with a single camp-bed style bunk in the pop top and a hammock slung over the front seats. After our first trip, we bought a drive-away awning and the two boys slept in that instead.
The kitchen was basic, with a couple of gas burners, a sink, and a fridge, all of which could run off either the auxiliary battery or gas, so we could happily camp without plugging in and still have a cold one at the end of a hot day. And it was certainly hot – with lots of glass and no air conditioning, we cooked in the summer months. The main heater never worked so driving in cooler weather meant we froze, but once parked, an auxiliary heater could defrost us again.
Getting places took time, as the 1600cc twin-carb flat-four engine in the rear had plenty of mass to move. The steering was heavy, and the driving position right over the front wheels took a while to get used to. And boy, was it noisy. Despite the engine being a long way back, it drowned out any chance of conversation. On the plus side, I never once heard the phrase “are we nearly there yet?” from the back seats.
At almost 40 years old by the time I bought it, the Westy wasn’t without its problems. It fried its electrics, lost its brakes, and I often had to crawl underneath with a large hammer when the starter motor stuck. Nonetheless it’s one of only two vehicles that I’ve ever broken even on when I sold it.
VW campers have always held their value, but it’s hard to imagine not taking a hit if you shell out over £80,000 on a Grand California. With options, you could easily see that price soar to over £100,000.
That’s apartment money in some parts of the world, but then again it’s kitted out more like a condo than a camper. Where my old Westy was basic with a dash of kitsch, the Grand Cali is cool personified, with flush-fitting, gleaming white cabinetry and contrasting laminate wood flooring. It’s seriously spacious, with full standing height inside, a fixed double bed at the rear, and an over-cab bunk providing comfortable sleeping for four.
The kitchen gets a gas range, a sink, and a slick pull-out fridge that can be accessed from inside or out. A huge wind-out awning extends the living space, and outside tables and chairs are neatly stored in the rear doors. There’s even a wet room, and with a couple of tanks of gas on board you could easily stay off-grid for several days. An electronic panel monitors and controls water, battery and gas levels, plus heating, ventilation, and entertainment functions.
Getting to your camping spot will also be an awful lot more comfortable, with mostly effortless power from a 2-litre turbodiesel driving through an eight-speed auto. It’s a bit rattly on start-up, and when climbing steep hills in lower gears it reveals a rather more agricultural clatter, but at a cruise it’s blissfully quiet. There’s power steering, a suite of driver aids and a decent audio system with Apple CarPlay, so whiling away the hours is all pretty pleasant. On Britain’s narrower B-roads you do feel its size and weight, and the height can cause the occasional brush with overhanging branches and restrict some car park access. By U.S. standards, it’s still pretty compact and the interior space for the exterior footprint is impressive.
In all I spent four nights in the Grand Cali, the first at a glorious site in the middle of Wales, where I slept like a log. The other three, at the Trac Môn race circuit in Anglesey, weren’t quite as restful – as you can read here – but that’s hardly the fault of VW.
Yes, vanlife and the costs to live it have changed somewhat in the last few decades, but the Grand California certainly allows you to do it in style and luxury. If it was me, however, I’d be T2 Bay Window shopping – again.
That Grand Cali’s less ‘van-life’ and more ‘mobile home’!