Full review

AS soon as I set off in the Auto-Sleeper Warwick Duo I noted my first pro and con of the new motorhome.

Selecting reverse on our test model caused the suspiciously large-looking rear-view mirror to think for a second or two and then relay a crystal-clear wide-angle view of the area directly behind it in glorious Technicolor.

Given the Warwick Duo’s decent through-vision, you might perhaps think an optional (at £276) reversing camera surplus to requirements, but the heavy window tint doesn’t exactly help in this respect, and the fact remains that this is a long – and that’s ‘long’ as in ‘nearly 20ft long’ – wheelbase van. Personally, I think it represents money well-spent.

So much for the ‘pro’, then, but there is an attendant ‘con’: namely that the resultant mirror in non-reverse mode is both extremely dark and extremely prone to wobbling like a terrified jelly out on the road, two factors that combine to render it pretty much useless. Fortunately, the Duo’s door mirrors are their usual large and multi-adjustable selves.

Interestingly, I’ve since driven another Auto-Sleeper (on a different base vehicle) fitted with the same system, and it didn’t wobble at all. Maybe it’s that notoriously firm X2/50 ride quality. Either way, you’d be wise to try before you buy.

I was impressed with the Duo’s turning circle, which came into its own repeatedly during my day-long hunt for suitable – and often difficult to reach – photo locations around the Cotswolds. Conversion noise was practically non-existent, too.

With the light all-but gone by 4pm, it was time to pack my photography endeavours in for the day and find somewhere to pitch up for the night.

Soon I was smiling nicely at the ever-friendly wardens at the Caravan Club’s Broadway site and bagged myself a pitch close to the comforting warmth of the shower block.

Judging by the cloudless sky and sheen of moisture already visible on my neighbours’ vehicles, this was going to be a stern test of those athermic windows.

With the gas in full flow, the Duo was soon toasty warm, thanks to its powerful gas/electric (and not diesel, as per the standard Warwick, you’ll note) heater.

And with the top-quality pleated blinds closed (and the rear door curtains and cab curtains drawn, these latter requiring a second press-stud by the B-pillar to close off the substantial gap left by our test model’s examples), I could enjoy the full effect of the Duo’s multitude of interior lighting.

There are the usual yellowy halogen lights, of course, plus a smattering of frosted white ceiling dome lights, but the Duo also warrants a bank of cooler LED lights in the lounge area, which reduce power consumption and provide a pleasant offset to the standard warmer lights.

I imagine they look and feel cooler on balmy summer nights down in the Med, too. Overall, in fact, the interior of the Duo manages to feel more like a compact coachbuilt than a large van conversion.

In the absence of any desire on my part to cook from scratch, dinner came courtesy of a ready meal served piping hot by the Duo’s standard-fit (and sensibly low-set) microwave oven. All washed down with a glass or three of something agreeable from the about-average-for-a-high-top 77-litre Dometic fridge.

Had I been in a rather more Galloping Gourmet mood, though, the Duo’s kitchen would have served me well, thanks to its full-house dual-fuel spark-ignition cooker and easy-clean linen-finish sink/drainer. Truncated length relative to the standard Warwick’s enormous affair notwithstanding, the new Duo still has generous worktop space. The cooker even warrants a hood extractor and – as if the Duo really needs them – two more downlighters.

The dining table, like the Warwick’s, is necessarily narrow in order to slot in between the two settees, but there’s plenty of room for two diners and you could probably squeeze a couple of guests around it if push came to shove. The diner sitting closest to the kitchen has the added bonus of being able to toast his or her toes on the handily-placed blown-air vent, too!

With the Auto-Sleepers-supplied crocks washed and stowed back in their dedicated kitchen locker, I could turn my attentions to tuning my iPod into an empty frequency on the Duo’s CD/radio (there are two extra speakers sunk into the rear doors), folding out the nifty little occasional table from its home on the rear door behind the nearside settee so I had somewhere to put my book and wine glass, and reclining fully on one of the settees, reflecting that I’d almost certainly be struggling to do this, were I in the standard Warwick.

The new ‘floating’ wardrobe opposite obviously precludes anyone sitting at the forward end of the nearside settee, but I reckon you could still squeeze three people on it with the side bolsters removed.

Factor in the three or four adults you could feasibly fit onto the offside settee and you’re left with a ‘van that can entertain guests with the best of them. It’s interesting to note, however, that the standard Warwick’s removable in-fill seat across the rear doors was missing from our test Duo.

Next morning, after a comfortable and cosy night’s sleep on the offside single bed, it was finally the moment of truth: with what sight would I be presented when I raised those blinds following a freezing November night outside, allied to a warm, centrally heated ambient temperature inside?

Would I have a clear, uninterrupted view of my neighbours? Or would I have to set to with the job-lot of absorbent cloths I’d brought with me, just in case, to mop up all the condensation?

As it turned out, the answer lay somewhere in between. I certainly didn’t have an uninterrupted view of Broadway’s CC site waking up to a gloriously sunny morning, but nor was there much sopping wet J-cloth wringing awaiting me before I could have a shower.

There was some condensation, but it was already beginning to dissipate (from the tops of the windows down, for some reason), and what fogginess there was, was minor enough to be static – ergo, no puddles on the lower window surrounds.

Once I’d had the panoramic crank-operated rooflight over the lounge open for 20 minutes it had all-but disappeared.

A full version of this review first appeared in the February 2009 issue of Which Motorcaravan. To subscribe to the magazine, click here.