Like most of my plans at the time, an evening with Stirling didn’t exactly go to plan. I’ll spare you the full saga, but let’s just say the M62 and M6 conspired against me in spectacular fashion. Roadworks, stray animals, a stranded lorry… the full house. I was stationary for so long I genuinely considered sticking the kettle on and calling it a night right there on the hard shoulder.

Safe to say, the motorway gods weren’t on my side.

Going back a few years, Mark from Overland Campers in Halifax asked if I fancied a few nights away in one of his camper conversions. Naturally, I bit his hand off. After a good natter and sorting the insurance, he handed me the keys to Stirling — a Land Rover Defender 130 Pulse battlefield ambulance, professionally converted into a rather smart and very usable camper.

Now, I’ve not driven a “proper” Land Rover for a while. In fact, I’d never driven a 130 — never mind an ex-ambulance. So yes, there was a bit of a culture shock. But it didn’t take long before I was settling into Stirling’s quirks and, dare I say it, enjoying myself.

The front seats are classic Defender — basic, yes, but surprisingly comfortable. As a 6ft2, 18-stone bloke, I’ve always found them supportive enough for long hauls. What I had forgotten about, though, was the dreaded “Land Rover elbow.” If you know, you know.

The plan was simple: M62, M61, M6, head north, and scope out three potential camping spots before dark. Naturally, thanks to the earlier chaos, that plan went straight out the window.

Painted in a bold shade of blue, Stirling isn’t exactly subtle. He turned heads everywhere — I clocked more than a few drivers, and passengers, sneaking photos as they went past. Not your average camper, is it?

To Stirling’s credit, in all that stop-start traffic, the clutch was kinder to my left knee than expected. I won’t say it made the journey enjoyable, but it certainly stopped me from needing a physio afterwards.

First Stop: Middleton Sands

A quick brew stop at Middleton Sands was in order. I had visions of one of those Instagram-worthy shots — sat on the bonnet, coffee in hand, looking windswept and philosophical. Reality? Absolutely baltic and blowing a gale. I made the brew, took a couple of snaps, and made a swift retreat. Northern glamour at its finest.

Choosing a Camp Spot

I had three options lined up:

A brook near Lupton
A rocky green lane near Westhouse
A spot by a ford just north of Ingleton Falls

First up was the brook near Lupton. Dropping into low box, Stirling handled the steep, loose descent like it was a Sunday stroll. Even with the extra weight, he felt planted and confident.

At the bottom, I crossed the brook, parked up, had a wander, and… nah. Not feeling it. Sometimes a spot just doesn’t click.

Back into low box and up we went again — effortlessly. I’d forgotten just how much fun an old Defender is on the lanes. No nonsense, just mechanical honesty and a bit of character.

By now it was getting properly dark, and the wind had picked up. The second option — exposed moorland — was quickly ruled out. Besides, trying to squeeze a wide ambulance body through narrow gateposts in the dark? Not tonight, thanks.

Third option it was.

Settling In

After a bit of careful reversing (thank you, reversing camera), I found a level spot and got set up. One of the clever touches in Mark’s build is the external panels — the old Red Cross flaps — which double up as blackout covers for the windows. No faffing with curtains, just shut them and you’re good to go. Perfect for stealth camping, well, as much as a Big Blue ex-ambulance can be stealthy!

Time for tea.

Dinner was a chilli and a can of Guinness from the in-built fridge freezer — proper luxury compared to my usual camping efforts. The two-hob gas cooker made light work of it.

The layout is spot on. One side houses the galley, the other a seating area with a table for four (two seats with proper belts). There’s a decent gangway down the middle, and at the rear, a shower and toilet cubicle. Not bad for something that used to cart casualties around.

A Night in the Wild(ish)

After tea, I briefly considered a walk. Then I looked outside. Pitch black, chucking it down, and blowing a hoolie. Yeah… no thanks.

Instead, I fired up the LPG heater and settled in with the iPad, finishing off articles and planning future articles. Outside, it was just wind, rain, and the occasional suspicious noise — probably nothing… although I had watched Dog Soldiers recently, which didn’t help matters.

By 10pm, I popped the roof, climbed into the sleeping bag, and drifted off. Apart from a few heavy downpours, it was a solid night’s kip.

Morning Routine

Morning arrived dark, damp, and misty — classic northern start. A quick shower, kettle on, and as Dolly would say, a “cup of ambition,” followed by a bacon butty. You can’t beat it.

By 6:45am, the sun started to break through. Apart from a few sheep and the odd fish jumping in the River Twiss, I had the place to myself.

It was peaceful — properly peaceful — though I did miss Muddy Madam and Lilly, The Mud Life dog. Everything’s better when the whole gang’s there.

After grabbing some photos and filming a quick video, I headed back to Halifax. Good timing too — as soon as I hit the motorway, the heavens opened and didn’t let up all the way back.

The Drive Home & Final Thoughts

Stirling took the flooded motorways in his stride. Sitting happily at 60mph, only needing a drop into 4th on the steeper inclines, he proved himself a proper workhorse. No drama, no fuss — just got on with it.

Driving Stirling has well and truly whetted my appetite for camper life. The idea of heading off-grid, setting up somewhere remote, and leaving no trace… it’s a big pull now.

That said, Stirling might be a bit on the large side for Muddy Madam and me, and at the time I had my eye on one of Mark’s smaller builds.

Sadly, Overland Campers has since closed, as Mark has sold his fleet and moved on to other ventures — but this build is a great example of the kind of work he was producing.

A Night in a Converted Ambulance