Motorhome Breakdown Near Eglinton on Boxing Day (Of Course It Happened)
A Boxing Day motorhome breakdown, a jack that was more decorative than useful, and a stranger who saved the trip when everything else failed. Van life, as advertised.
A Boxing Day motorhome breakdown, a jack that was more decorative than useful, and a stranger who saved the trip when everything else failed. Van life, as advertised.
Winter doesn’t care how much solar you’ve got. After years with a Jackery 1000, we spent £800 on the DJI Power 2000 to avoid running the engine every time we needed to work. No hype, just real-world use.
A cracking free park-up beside Lough Neagh near Randalstown, with level parking, peaceful views, and genuinely clean 24-hour public toilets. No surrounding trees makes it a solid stop in bad weather, and there’s easy access with no height issues when we stayed. Ideal if you’re heading into Belfast or picking someone up from the nearby airport, and one of those rare spots that quietly does everything right.
We woke up in the motorhome and had no clue where we were for a moment. That turned into a winter run from Derry to Portrush with errands, dogs, a van wash in Limavady, then a wee night out at the Station Bar with Mrs M, finished off with the inevitable Domino’s pizza. Nothing dramatic, just a simple day that sums up why motorhome life in Northern Ireland works when you let it slow everything down.
Motorhoming is often linked with sunny coastlines and warm summer evenings. However, motorhoming in the UK during the winter months can be just as rewarding—if not more—when done correctly. Frosty mornings, quiet campsites, dramatic landscapes, and peaceful roads create a unique travel experience that many summer-only motorhomers miss. That said, winter motorhoming brings challenges such…
Honest Laguna Park 2 review from a cheap Tenerife stay. Bedbugs, cockroaches, four room changes and that brutal hill. Here is what you really get.
I live full-time in a van, mostly around the north coast of Ireland, and I share what it’s really like to work, travel and park up across Northern Ireland and along the Wild Atlantic Way.
Digital Nomad NI is not a travel brochure. It’s a lived-experience project that explores what works, what doesn’t and why things are sometimes harder than they need to be for people who tour in motorhomes and campervans.
The latest post digs into something nobody seems to be tracking. Northern Ireland has thousands of visiting motorhomes every year, but almost no strategy to welcome them or measure their economic impact. There’s a huge tourism opportunity here. We’re just documenting it until someone starts paying attention.
We’ve ditched the coast for the calm of Old Castle Archdale, tucked beside Lower Lough Erne in County Fermanagh. It’s the kind of park-up where the “stealth campers” all look suspiciously like electricians on a break, the trails are half closed thanks to storm damage, and the dogs think they’ve discovered a new kingdom. Mrs. M’s off celebrating her 50th, I’ve got Starlink pointed at the sky, and the forest is quiet enough to hear Lucky snore — all in all, not a bad way to end the day.
We rocked up to Tiraroe Quay in the kind of rain that makes you question life choices. Park4Night said “one space only,” but someone had beaten us to it. With nowhere to turn on a dead-end road, we parked nose-first at Lough Erne and hoped for the best. Lovely views by morning, but not a spot we’d brave again after dark.
Enniscrone Pier in County Sligo is a winter wonderland for off-season vanlifers—if you enjoy freezing winds and questionable swimming choices! With stunning views and solitude, it’s perfect for dog owners and social media avoiders. Just remember: bring waterproofs, plan for toilet emergencies, and enjoy the sauna-spectator sport!