What It’s Really Like Showering in a Campervan: My First Proper Test

There are some things in life you put off because they're genuinely difficult.

And then there are the things you put off because you've built them into such a palaver in your own head that eventually you have to wonder whether the problem actually exists.

Apparently, washing my hair in my campervan shower falls firmly into category two.

I'd used the shower in my Sunlight Cliff Adventure 600 before, but only for body showers. Washing my hair felt like another level entirely.

Would there be enough water? Would the shower curtain stick to me? Would I soak everything in the bathroom? Would I emerge clean and refreshed or end up wrestling with a wet shower curtain in a space approximately the size of a telephone box?

There was only one way to find out.

Why I'd Been Avoiding My Campervan Shower

One of the reasons I chose a campervan with a shower was because I wanted the freedom to travel and stay off-grid.

Yet I'd somehow created a situation where washing my hair meant thinking, "Right, I need to get onto a campsite."

Which rather defeats the object.

So I decided it was time to properly use what I'd bought.

Not just a quick shower. Hair washed, shampooed and conditioned. The full works.

And because this was something I'd desperately wanted to see when I was researching campervans myself, I decided to document the whole process.

First Job: Getting the Hot Water Working

Before dismantling half the bathroom, I needed hot water.

I put the boiler onto boost — and deliberately recreated an error I'd encountered previously.

The boiler wouldn't ignite.

The culprit? An open window.

Once I'd closed and secured the window, I tried again and heard the boiler ignite.

It's one of those little pieces of campervan knowledge that seems obvious once you know it but can leave you completely flummoxed when you don't.

I gave the water around 20 minutes to heat while I prepared the bathroom.

Preparing a Tiny Campervan Bathroom for a Shower

My bathroom isn't enormous, so before showering I remove anything I don't particularly fancy getting wet.

I also lifted the wooden duckboard and checked underneath it.

There are some lessons in campervan life you don't particularly want to learn through experience, and blocking the shower waste with random debris or hair is high on my list.

Once everything was clear and clean, the duckboard went back down. In such a small wet space, having something secure underfoot makes sense.

Then I waited for the boiler.

When the boost indicator stopped flashing, I knew the water was ready.

How Much Hot Water Does a Campervan Shower Give You?

The hot-water boiler holds roughly 10 litres.

Initially that doesn't sound like much.

But the water is heated to a much higher temperature than you'd actually shower in, so you're mixing the hot water with cold water.

The other important part is how you shower.

This is not the moment to recreate a 20-minute spa shower while contemplating the meaning of life.

My plan was simple:

Wet my hair thoroughly, turn off the water, shampoo, turn it back on to rinse, turn it off again while conditioning and then rinse everything out.

It's basically the campervan version of a military operation — only with conditioner.

How Much Space Is There in a Campervan Shower?

Then came the question I'd been slightly dreading.

The curtain.

The bathroom has a shower curtain that comes around the showering area and protects everything outside it.

I'd somehow imagined myself trapped inside it, with wet plastic sticking to every available limb.

Once I'd actually set it up and stood inside, though, I had a revelation.

There was considerably more room than I'd convinced myself there would be.

In fact, I had one of those slightly irritating moments when you realise the thing you've been avoiding might be absolutely fine.

Why had I not done this before?

The Moment of Truth

I opened the bathroom vent, got everything ready and finally had the shower.

Hair included.

And?

It was fine.

Actually, it was considerably better than fine.

When I finished and opened the curtain, the rest of the bathroom was virtually dry. The curtain had done exactly what it was supposed to do and kept the water contained.

Yes, a little bit of wet curtain stuck to me at one point.

I survived.

I'd give the whole showering experience a solid eight out of ten.

Considering the version I'd created in my imagination was somewhere around minus three, I'll take that.

How Much Water Did My Campervan Shower Use?

This was the experiment I was particularly interested in.

I'd filled my 100-litre fresh-water tank before starting because I wanted an idea of how much I'd use during a normal day that included washing my hair.

After my shower, the display was showing 75%.

Based on the tank reading, that suggested I'd used around 25 litres, aside from the water I'd used earlier for coffee.

For a complete shampoo-and-condition hair wash, I was actually quite happy with that.

I could probably reduce it further as I get better at being economical with the water. A normal body shower uses considerably less.

More importantly, it showed me that having a proper shower doesn't automatically mean abandoning off-grid camping because I'll immediately run out of water.

The Less Glamorous Bit Nobody Puts in the Brochure

There is, of course, some faff involved.

Because the van wasn't completely level, I needed to help the remaining water towards the plughole afterwards.

The shower curtain then needed hanging properly so it could dry rather than being bundled away wet and turning into something mouldy and revolting.

And I removed any loose hair rather than allowing it to disappear down the waste.

So no, this isn't the same as stepping into the shower at home.

But I'm not at home.

That's rather the point.

Is Having a Shower in a Campervan Worth It?

For me, absolutely.

My shower isn't luxurious. It requires a little preparation before and a little clearing up afterwards.

But it works.

I can have a proper shower. I can wash my hair. I can remain off-grid and self-sufficient for longer without having to find a campsite purely because I need to get clean.

And that gives me more freedom.

Interestingly, that's the thing I took away from this little experiment.

I'd made the shower into an obstacle before I'd really tested it.

Once I actually did it, I discovered I'd been worrying about something that was perfectly manageable.

There's probably a wider lesson lurking in there somewhere.

Sometimes the thing standing between where we are and a little more freedom isn't the thing itself.

It's the story we've created about how difficult it's going to be.

In this particular case, all I needed to do was get in the shower.

And wash my hair.

Following My Next Chapter

I'm travelling around the UK coastline in my campervan with Bella, sharing the places I discover, the adventures I have and the less glamorous practical realities of living and travelling in a van.

It's also part of something bigger for me.

This journey is my next chapter — and I'm working out what that means as I live it.

If you're at a point in life where you're beginning to wonder what you want your own next chapter to look like, that's exactly why I created the Next Chapter Club.

You don't need to have the answer yet.

Sometimes you just need somewhere to start looking.

Next Chapter Club:
https://www.saraburton.co.uk/next-chapter-club