More Camp Than a Row of Tents - Toyota's Proace Matino Campervan

I will lay it on the line – I hate camping. Okay ‘hate’ is a strong word. I dislike camping.

Don’t get me wrong, I used to love it. But over the years, campsite toilet blocks have just put me off the idea. They didn’t bother me before. Maybe it’s because I cherish my privacy more these days – and having a shave in a mirror is preferable than the guesswork I’ve had to do on a campsite.

But hold on. Camping without the canvas doesn’t sound so bad. And being offered a campervan to test, seems even better. So, guess what? Yep, when Toyota asked if I wanted to test its Proace Matino Campervan Wellhouse Leisure Conversion, I was up for it.

Now, I was up for it mainly because I didn’t have to camp if I didn’t want to. My best excuse was that I could only find four seatbelts in the Proace and there are five of us in my clan.

But that was cool, because we got a taste of camping – well it was more like caravanning in a ‘tin tent’ than under horrible canvas. And as for ‘glamping’, you can stick that where the sun doesn’t shine as well.

Anyway, as far as vehicles go, the 2.0-litre Proace under review here goes like sand off a shiny shovel – for a van. The 176 horses mated to an eight-speed auto and that devilish fuel known as diesel make for a happy union. The resulting 8.5 seconds pull from zero to 62mph is fast enough to make you forget about the cooker, fridge, sink, double bed, and elevating roof contained within the vehicle.

Yes, that’s right, the Proace, once given the Wellhouse treatment, really is a Wendy house on wheels – as far as my nine-year-old daughter is concerned. Out of the five of us, she bloody loved it!

Don’t worry – we kind of did some ‘campervanning’ in the Proace, but a lot of the time my youngest just wanted to hop in it and play. And play she did – because Toyota had provided plates, coffee, napkins and there was even water flowing from the van’s kitchen sink tap.

More than that, we worked how to lower the rear passenger bench and convert it into a double bed. And my son figured out how to elevate the roof – and spin the two front seats around to face the ‘lounge’.

This we did outside the house, as well as further afield. Alright, I admit we didn’t stay the night in the Proace – mainly because the Queen had died, and we wanted to watch the State Funeral on TV as a whole family. Well, that was one excuse – albeit a true one.

We did take the Matino down to the beach, though. My eldest child is too into being with her mates to join us much these days anyway – so that day trip worked out well, what with only the four of us. With onboard gas, you can make hot beans on toast easily – and with the aforementioned sink you can boil up some water and drink coffee until it comes out of your ears.

The campervan even has a handy little tap on the outside of it that we had fun turning on and off. Call me ‘Sherlock Holmes’, but I guessed that was the outlet for the waste water. And as for the side awning, well, that expanded our usable territory nicely.

Altogether, the Proace Matino Campervan Wellhouse Leisure Conversion (phew, that’s a bloomin’ long name, isn’t it?) is a really funky house on wheels and makes camping – or a version of camping – fun.

It’s especially cosy in the Toyota when you close all the little curtains – and when it’s too hot, there are sliding windows to cool you down. And if that’s not enough, you can control the temperature in the van just like you do in your home.

So, in many ways, the Proace – once converted by Wellhouse – really is home from home.

I liked it a lot, and as I say, even if you take the camping out of the equation, the Toyota pulls like a train. Okay, you can hear the crockery and cutlery rattling around in the corners, but obviously the Proace isn’t designed for motoring madness.

That said, I’d love to be around at the end of the Proace Matino’s life and take it on a demolition derby. That’d be fun. But, even then, because the vehicle’s so well screwed together, I reckon it’d see off the competition long before it fell apart.

So, long story short, if I had a spare £66,330 – (what, how much?), I’d go for it. No, guys, don’t moan – I know over sixty grand is a lot of cash, especially with the cost-of-living crisis ‘n’ all. But just think how much you could save if you moved out of your house into the Proace. Exactly!