In August 2023, I took our electric campervan, the Vikenze III-e XL, on a 3,500-mile road trip from the UK to Iceland, travelling via Denmark and the Faroe Islands.
This is believed to be the first electric campervan to make this epic journey.
Along the way, I published a series of videos covering everything from EV charging costs across Europe and Iceland to the incredible sights that these remarkable destinations have to offer.
What Are Iceland’s Campsites Really Like?
In a nutshell, basic. They’re clean, tidy, and there’s no litter (in fact, Iceland has no litter at all, which is really refreshing), but don’t expect luxury.
The showers and toilets can be quite austere. I’ve had a few where they’ve been nothing more than concrete cubicles. Not the most inviting, but the water has always been hot and plentiful. A lot of it comes from geothermal springs, so they’re not too bothered if you have a long shower.
The campsite managers and wardens all spoke English, most of them very good English, so communication is never a problem. Most signage is in English too.
A few of the showers I encountered were communal: you open a door and there are two, three, or four showerheads ready for you to stand under. I don’t think they’re unisex, but even so, it’s not quite what I had in mind. I gave those a swerve.
But of course it’s very Scandinavian, isn’t it. Hot tubs and all of that. When in Iceland, do as the Icelanders do… or don’t, and just sit in your van and keep quiet. That’s me.
The Campsite Routine
I travelled anticlockwise around Iceland, through the east, north, and into the Westfjords. It was beautifully quiet up there, the roads were empty, but even so, the campsites tended to fill up in the evenings.
A lot of the tourists here fly in and rent really basic campervans. Many of them are just vans without windows. I’ve seen inside one and it was bare metal. I think they’re whizzing around the island in a week, trying to tick off everything on their bucket list. I’m not sure it’s the best way to experience Iceland, but each to their own.
What it means for me is that I’d pull into a campsite around 5 o’clock and it would be lovely and quiet. I’d hook up, plug in the EV charger, and have a cup of tea.
Then from about 7, 8, 9 in the evening, more and more vans would roll in. There are hardly any caravans here, it’s 95% motorhomes or vans, and they often arrive very late. I’ve had plenty arriving at 11 at night, some even later.
The campgrounds are generally on stones. A few have been on grass, but Iceland doesn’t have much grass or soil. Most are on something like a type one aggregate, and when a vehicle drives over it, the crackling noise is quite loud. Not great at 11 at night. But you’ve got to take it on the chin. You can’t come here and complain about it.
EV Charging Across Europe: Calais to Northern Denmark
When I left Calais and needed to head up through the Benelux countries, Germany, and Denmark to Hirtshals at the very northern tip, a distance of just over 900 miles, I opened up the Chargemap app on my phone.
It turned out to be an excellent app for finding charge points on a route. You tell it your vehicle (it didn’t have Vauxhall listed, but Opel is effectively the same), what percentage you’re comfortable arriving at a charge point with (say 20% or 30%), and what you expect to charge up to (80% is suggested, because that’s where it charges fastest. After 80%, the rate slows down considerably).
It uses Google Maps to suggest your route and stopping points. For 900 miles it suggested 11 stops. I thought that sounded a lot at first, but when you think about it, three stops a day over two days, covering 400-odd miles a day, it’s perfectly manageable.
I’d stop for breakfast, stop for lunch (about an hour), and stop again for my evening meal. That’s three stops I’d absolutely need anyway for food. It worked out at just one or two extra stops per day compared to what I’d have done in a petrol vehicle.
The Sweet Spot
You get to your destination quicker if you stop more frequently but charge for a shorter time. Charging between 20% and 80% is significantly faster, that’s the sweet spot. In practice, that means pulling in roughly every 75-80 miles for about half an hour.
When I had my lunch and charged for a full hour, I pulled out at 96%, and the app simply recalculated, saying I could skip the next stop. It’s quite clever and intuitive.
Charging by Country
- Belgium - Absolutely fine, contactless debit card
- Germany - Very good, contactless card
- Holland - Very good, no issues whatsoever
- Denmark - A little behind the curve. Most chargers wanted me to use an app rather than contactless. I was recommended a company called Clever by a Danish chap with a Tesla, and that worked well.
Real-World EV Charging Costs: Electric vs Petrol in Iceland
Let’s get into the numbers. Our campervan is based on the Vauxhall Combo e-Life with a 50 kWh battery and 136 bhp motor. I’ve been driving in normal mode the entire time, heating at a normal 19-20°C, absolutely no compromises.
The temperatures in Iceland are relevant because cold isn’t kind to EVs. Daytime temperatures ranged from as low as 6°C up to a brief 19°C one afternoon, quickly dropping back to 10-11°C in the evening. Add a stiff breeze and it feels significantly colder.
| Metric | Value |
|---|---|
| Average efficiency | 2.9 mi/kWh |
| Total energy used | 397 kWh |
| Iceland charging rate | 45p/kWh |
| Total electricity cost | £178 |
| Days in Iceland | 11 |
| Miles driven | 1,152 |
For comparison, a petrol version of the same vehicle doing 40 mpg would have used about 130 litres, costing around £260 (petrol in Iceland is just over £2 per litre).
But that’s not the full picture. I charged on campsite hook-ups almost every night. I’d typically arrive with 40-70% battery and top up to 100% overnight, adding about 60 miles of range per night on average. That accounts for roughly 220 kWh of the total, which came from the campsite electricity rather than expensive public chargers.
The Bottom Line on Costs
The amount I actually paid at public charging points was for 177 kWh, costing about £80. Compare that to the £260 a petrol vehicle would have cost for the same tour. That’s a significant saving.
Pre-Conditioning: A Morning Ritual
Every morning, about 20 minutes before I leave, I open the Vauxhall app and tap to start pre-conditioning. This puts the heating on, demists the windows, and crucially, warms the battery.
The batteries on these vehicles are quite sophisticated; they’re warmed and cooled for efficiency. Instead of setting off with a stone-cold battery (which would be far less efficient), I leave with everything pre-warmed.
It’s almost as important as using the regenerative braking, which I covered in another video.
It’s Not All About Range
On paper, the vehicle will do about 170 miles on a full charge. In warm conditions across Europe, I averaged 3.6 miles per kWh and got about 180 miles of range. In Iceland’s cold, that drops to around 135-140 miles.
But here’s the thing. It’s not really about maximum range.
I’m typically topping up at 80-90 miles, which on Iceland’s slow, mountainous roads is about two and a half to three hours of driving. I’m stopping frequently anyway for photos, videos, and drone flying (which is terrible for efficiency, it wants smooth, steady progress).
I think 2.9 miles per kWh is pretty good considering all those stops and starts.
Something else worth mentioning: quite a few attractions and sites in Iceland have EV chargers, and some are even free. I picked up a free 30-mile top-up at the original Geysir, for example. These little boosts add up.
Solar Powered Campervan: Completely Self-Sufficient in Iceland
After 23 days on the road, I checked the Victron app for the solar performance. The 300W panel had yielded 21 kWh over 23 days, just shy of 1 kWh per day. The best single day was 1.41 kWh.
What this means is that all of my cooking (the mini oven, microwave, induction hob) plus the fan heater on a few occasions, used less energy than the solar panel was putting in.
That’s the whole point: we’re completely self-sufficient off-grid for the camper’s domestic needs. That means we can use all of the campsite electricity to charge the EV.
It works, and it works well.
The Faroe Islands: Don’t Miss Them
On the way to Iceland, the ferry from Hirtshals calls at the Faroe Islands. If you have the time, do stop off. They’re absolutely stunning.
The highlight for me? Driving through the world’s only sub-sea roundabout, deep beneath the ocean, connecting two of the islands via an undersea tunnel. It’s quite surreal.
Final Thoughts
An electric campervan road trip from the UK to Iceland is absolutely doable.
The campsites are basic but functional. The EV charging infrastructure across Europe is solid (Denmark could catch up a bit). And the real-world costs are genuinely lower than petrol.
With solar keeping the camper self-sufficient and campsite hook-ups topping up the EV overnight, it all comes together beautifully.
If you’re considering an electric campervan for long-distance touring, this trip proves it works, even in one of the most remote corners of Europe.
We’ll see you next time.
For details of all Wheelhome models, visit www.wheelhome.co.uk