Sleeping With the Octavia: A Beach, a Tentbox, and a Czech Boot Full of Surprises
Borrowing press cars is usually a fairly straightforward affair. You contact the relevant PR team with a bunch of dates, sign a piece of paper, promise not to damage it, or get any speeding tickets, and you’re good to go. But every now and again, something a little bit special happens. Something that reminds you that the automotive press world isn’t just spec sheets, embargoes, and the eternal hunt for the start button. For me, that moment came when I spotted that the good folk at Škoda UK had fitted a TentBox Lite rooftop tent and a fully-fledged EGOE camping box to a Škoda Octavia vRS Estate, and, naturally, I had to ask if I could borrow it.
The moment they said yes, I realised this wasn’t going to be a normal week with a fast estate car. This was going to be an adventure. Albeit one with the persistent hum of a turbocharged petrol engine and the ever-present fear of grounding a low-slung bumper while trying to find a wild-camping spot near the sea.
A Czech Camping Contraption in a Czech Car
The EGOE camping box - designed and built in the Czech Republic, feels like the spiritual companion to the Octavia. Škoda makes practical, cleverly-engineered cars for clever, practical people. EGOE makes cleverly-engineered camping modules for clever, practical campers. Together, it’s a match made in a tidy central-European industrial estate.
Slide open the Octavia’s boot and you’ll find the EGOE box sitting snugly, like an oversized toolbox that’s been crossbred with an IKEA kitchen unit. It contains:
An integrated gas cooker, complete with its own slide-out platform
A collapsible sink with tap and hose
A food preparation area that’s surprisingly sturdy
Plenty of storage space for chopped tomatoes, sporks, and emergency Hobnobs
What’s remarkable is that even with this fully-featured mini-kitchen tucked away, there’s still room in the boot for luggage. Actual, normal, human luggage. And thanks to the clever packaging, the rear seats remain fully usable, so you can carry passengers without forcing them to sit cross-legged on butane canisters.
You do, however, need to pack with intention. You can’t just lob a weekend’s worth of gear into an estate with a camp kitchen and expect it all to magically arrange itself. But that’s part of the joy. It feels like prepping for an expedition: ice blocks in the cooler, kettle on standby, tea bags in a dedicated hot-beverage pouch which may or may not be something I made up.
Up Top: The TentBox Lite
The TentBox Lite sits on the roof like a giant, aerodynamic sandwich. Even if you haven’t opened a roof top tent before, it’s pretty straight forward, surprisingly spacious and very sturdy.
Two adults can comfortably stretch out inside, with room to spare for those essential nighttime items: torch, glasses, phone, snacks, and something to whack the ladder with if it gets stuck. The built-in mattress is thick enough that you don’t feel crossbars underneath, and the vista from up there is unbeatable. Even better, the tent goes from flat to habitable in just a couple of minutes.
It feels like the kind of system you’d use on a multi-day road trip across Europe… or, in our case, a late-evening dash to the coast to catch a sunset and find the least boggy patch of sand to park on.
The Car That Tries Very Hard Not to Be a Camper
Let’s address the elephant in the dunes: the Octavia vRS Estate is not, on paper, the most sensible car for camping. It’s sporty. It’s low. It wears large alloy wheels, and its tyres are more “grip at speed” than “traction on sand”. It’s the kind of car that begs to be driven enthusiastically along a B-road, not coaxed onto a tidal beach.
But you know what? That contradiction is exactly what made the whole experience brilliant fun.
Because after spending a week living with the Octavia vRS as a camper, I’ve come to the conclusion that you absolutely can turn a fast estate into a micro-camper, you just need to pick your terrain very, very carefully. The vRS handled damp grass, flattened sand, and gravel tracks without complaint, so long as I didn’t attempt anything that might lift a wheel or risk introducing salt water to the brake discs.
I call this “responsible adventuring”. Some might call it “being a coward”. Both are technically correct.
Finding the Campsite… or Making One
Wild camping on a beach isn’t for the faint-hearted, especially when you’re acutely aware that your borrowed vehicle has a ground clearance roughly equivalent to a Yorkshire pudding. So rather than charging confidently onto the sand in “adventure mode”, I tip-toed along until I found a spot flat enough to park without fear of waking up to the sound of the sea sloshing around my wheelarches.
The resulting photos - rooftop tent silhouetted against a golden sunset, the Octavia glinting blue in the fading light - make it look like I live this life every day. It’s incredible what a sunset does for your sense of achieved ruggedness. But behind each photo is the quiet voice in my head going, don’t get stuck, don’t get stuck, for the love of Škoda please don’t get stuck.
Once parked, though, the joy of the setup becomes immediately clear. Tent goes up. Boots come off. Cooker slides out. Kettle goes on. Suddenly you’re watching the tide creep out across the flats while sipping coffee made from water poured from a collapsible sink. It feels deliciously ridiculous and absolutely wonderful at the same time.
Chilli, Solitude, and the Seagull Air Force
Later that evening, once I’d got the fire pit established, I found myself cooking a chilli on the little gas hob, enjoying the blissful solitude as the waves gently lapped the shoreline. It was all very peaceful… or it would have been, had I not been under constant surveillance from a squadron of seagulls circling above with the hungry determination of seasoned chip-shop veterans. Nothing makes you stir a pan faster than the knowledge that your dinner could be airlifted away at any moment by a feathered hooligan running its own opportunistic extraction mission.
A Fast Estate’s Secret Talent
What makes the vRS such a great camping companion isn’t its height or traction or any of the usual outdoorsy attributes. It’s the fact that it’s a brilliant road car first.
After packing up from the campsite at dawn, I didn’t have to endure a rattly, wallowy trundle home. I simply folded the TentBox away, made sure the kettle wasn’t still hot, slid the EGOE unit back into place, and set off along the coast.
That’s where the vRS is in its element. The turbocharged engine is eager. The steering feels precise. The chassis sits level and composed, even with a tent on top that creates the aerodynamic profile of a small bungalow. It’s a quick car - effortlessly so, and it turns the boring “getting there” part of camping into an event.
For once, I wasn’t thinking about mpg or ride height. I was thinking about how absurdly enjoyable it is to blast along a sweeping A-road in a car that has a mattress strapped to the roof and a kitchen in the boot.
Living With the Setup
During the week, the Octavia served double duty as a daily driver. Roof tent attached, EGOE box still installed, it became:
A mobile office (comfortable seats, huge boot for camera kit)
A lunchtime kitchen (nothing beats hot noodles in a layby)
A mild curiosity in supermarket car parks (“is that a tent?”)
A wildly impractical but deeply satisfying commuter
Fuel economy took a minor hit thanks to the rooftop tent, but nowhere near as much as expected. The Octavia’s long gearing and slick aerodynamics meant it still managed decent figures, even with the drag of a campsite riding piggyback.
The handling remained reassuring, too. You’re aware of the extra weight aloft, but the vRS platform feels planted enough that it never becomes unnerving. Just don’t overdo enthusiasm in tight corners — physics remains undefeated.
Practical? Sort Of. Fun? Absolutely.
Would I recommend the Octavia vRS Estate as your main overlanding rig? Probably not. You’ll forever be thinking about approach angles, tyre walls, and the possibility of gouging the underside on a spirited mole. But as a light-duty adventure wagon, especially when paired with clever, lightweight gear like the TentBox and EGOE box, it’s brilliant.
It’s the sort of setup that encourages spontaneous trips. A last-minute run to the coast. A detour into the hills for a night under the stars. A picnic elevated, literally by climbing a ladder to reach your dinner spot.
What the vRS lacks in ruggedness, it more than makes up for in charm, speed, and everyday usability. And the EGOE box transforms it from an estate with a tent into a genuinely capable mini-camper, one that feels thoughtfully engineered and perfectly at home in a Škoda.
Final Thoughts
This wasn’t a hardcore expedition. I didn’t conquer muddy tracks or rock-strewn paths. I wasn’t waist-deep in bogs or bashing through ruts in low range. Instead, it was a civilised adventure, a weekend of sea breezes, sunsets, brewing tea on a gas hob, cooking a chilli while dodging seagulls, and waking up to the sound of gulls tapping impatiently on the tent fabric.
And yes - I kept the Octavia well away from the sketchier bits of terrain. But that didn’t stop the trip feeling special.
There’s a unique joy in taking something sporty and sensible, strapping a tent to the roof, putting a kitchen in the boot, and turning it into a makeshift holiday home. It’s unconventional, impractical, and slightly daft. Which is exactly why I loved it.
Because sometimes, the best adventures start when a PR team says:
“We’ve fitted something unusual to the car… hope that’s alright.”
