The German manufacturer has introduced a new generation of solar charge controllers designed specifically for motorhomes, expedition vehicles, and off-road builds. At the centre of the update is a dedicated charging programme for heated LiFePO₄ batteries, an increasingly common setup in modern overland vehicles, but one that has historically struggled in low temperatures.

Charging Lithium in the Cold—Without Workarounds

Lithium batteries are efficient, stable, and increasingly the default choice for serious travel setups. But they come with a known limitation: charging at low temperatures can damage the cells, forcing many systems to either reduce output or stop charging altogether.

Votronic’s approach sidesteps that compromise. The new controllers are designed to work directly with heated LiFePO₄ batteries, allowing them to charge safely even in cold conditions, without the need for an additional temperature sensor.

In real-world terms, it removes one more point of failure, one more component to install, and one more variable to manage in a system that should ideally look after itself. For vehicles used year-round—winter camping rigs, alpine travellers, or long-distance expedition builds—it translates into something simple: the system keeps working.

More Energy, Faster Recovery

The controllers continue to rely on MPPT (Maximum Power Point Tracking) technology, which is now standard at this level but still worth getting right. By constantly adjusting to the optimal operating point of the solar panels, the system extracts more usable energy compared to older PWM-based setups.

In practice, that means shorter charging times and better overall yield from the same solar array—useful on short winter days or when parked in less-than-ideal conditions. The system also automatically adapts to different battery types, including AGM, gel, and traditional lead-acid, making it flexible across mixed or legacy setups.

An additional detail that will appeal to those running dual-battery systems is the integrated maintenance charging for the starter battery. It’s a small thing, but one that avoids flat batteries after extended stays off-grid.

Built for Installers, Not Just End Users

Votronic has clearly aimed this generation at professional installers and vehicle builders as much as at end users. The focus is on straightforward integration into existing onboard electrical systems, with fully automatic charging processes and an emphasis on operational reliability.

That positioning makes sense. Modern overland electrical systems are no longer simple add-ons, they are integrated, often complex systems where compatibility and ease of installation matter as much as outright performance. A controller that drops cleanly into an existing setup without requiring workarounds or additional components earns its place quickly.

A Quiet but Relevant Update

There is nothing flashy about a solar charge controller. It sits out of sight, does its job, and is usually only noticed when it fails. But this update addresses a known limitation in a growing segment of the market, and does so in a way that reflects how people are actually using their vehicles.

For anyone running lithium systems in colder climates, or planning to, the ability to maintain charging without intervention is not a luxury. It is a baseline requirement that has, until now, often needed careful system design to achieve.

Votronic’s updated range is available immediately through specialist dealers and authorised installation partners.

VOTRONIC

The post Cold-Weather Charging Solved: Votronic Updates Solar Regulators for Year-Round Expedition Use appeared first on overland-europe.

Fourteen journalists stood outside the manor house at Gut Damp in northern Germany, umbrellas raised or hands buried deep in jacket pockets against the Baltic chill. In front of us sat a row of Grenadiers: Station Wagons, Quartermasters and Utility models. Freshly washed and spotless for the presentation, their tyres still clean enough to betray the fact that the real work had not yet begun.

Parked slightly apart from the others, and rather neatly positioned at the foot of the manor house steps, stood the new Black Edition, suitably dramatic in the grey light.

But that was not the real reason we were standing in the rain. We were here because the Grenadier had been criticised… not for its off-road capability, a question long since settled, but for something far more sensitive in the modern automotive world.

The vehicle’s ladder-frame chassis, solid axles and mechanical simplicity were exactly what INEOS had promised under the phrase Built on Purpose. That part of the story was not in doubt. The debate centred somewhere else: steering feel, on-road behaviour, and the increasingly unavoidable intrusion of electronic driver assistance systems demanded by modern regulation. INEOS knew it. The journalists knew it. And the engineers standing quietly among us knew it as well.

The purpose of the gathering at Gut Damp was simple: to present Model Year 2026 and demonstrate that the company had listened.

For me, the conversation carried a slightly different weight. Over the past two years, I have test-driven the Grenadier Quartermaster for more than twenty thousand kilometres across motorways, through villages barely wide enough for mirrors, over mountain passes and along the kind of broken tracks that define overland travel. Living with a vehicle changes your perspective, to the extent that some supposed flaws that appear during short test drives fade into the background once the machine becomes part of daily life, while others reveal themselves as deliberate engineering decisions that make far more sense away from smooth asphalt. The Grenadier falls firmly into that category.

That does not mean the criticism was entirely misplaced. Drivers accustomed to modern SUVs, vehicles engineered primarily for urban roads, sometimes struggled with a steering system that behaved differently from what they expected. The absence of aggressive self-centring and the relaxed feel around the straight-ahead position were enough to trigger some particularly harsh verdicts.

INEOS listened and, remarkably quickly for an automobile manufacturer, the engineers went back to work. The result now stands before us as Model Year 2026.

The critical changes are not cosmetic. They are mechanical, deliberate and focused. Steering geometry has been revised, the turning circle reduced, ADAS systems reworked to become far less intrusive, and even small details such as interior storage and climate control refined in response to real-world feedback. Perhaps most surprising of all in the current automotive climate, pricing remains unchanged across European markets… a detail that did not go unnoticed among the group standing in the rain.

But the real question remained unanswered.

Did the work actually change the driving experience? Because no amount of engineering explanation delivered beside a row of spotless vehicles can substitute for what happens once the engine starts and the road begins to unfold ahead. That answer would arrive the following morning.

Steering: the criticism INEOS chose to answer

The Grenadier’s steering became one of those subjects that automotive journalists like to circle. Some called it vague, others described it as antiquated, and a few seemed genuinely unsettled by it. The irony is that none of those descriptions quite captured what was actually happening.

The original system was designed around durability, mechanical feedback and predictable behaviour on rough terrain. Solid axles, a recirculating ball steering box and long suspension travel inevitably produce a different sensation at the wheel than the electrically assisted rack-and-pinion systems common in modern road cars. Drivers expecting the latter often interpreted the difference as a fault.

Spend real time with the vehicle, however, and the logic becomes clearer. A steering system that remains stable over broken ground, that does not kick violently when a tyre strikes a rock or rut, and that maintains composure when both front wheels are working independently across uneven terrain is rarely going to feel like a sports saloon on perfect asphalt.

INEOS understood this balance from the beginning, but they also recognised that the criticism around on-road behaviour, particularly around the straight-ahead position, was persistent enough to warrant attention.

For Model Year 2026, the engineers introduced a modification that sounds modest on paper but proves highly effective behind the wheel. The steering box now incorporates a variable ratio around the centre position. Where previously the ratio remained constant, it now tightens from 17.4:1 to 15.2:1 within the first 45 degrees of steering input either side of centre.

In practical terms, the steering becomes more responsive during the small corrections that dominate motorway driving and fast country roads, and the improvement is immediately noticeable. At Autobahn speeds the Grenadier tracks more confidently, requiring fewer micro-adjustments from the driver, while the sensation of float around the straight-ahead position, a frequent point of criticism in early reviews, has largely disappeared.

Yet the fundamental character of the system remains intact. The steering still communicates the road surface and still lacks the artificially strong self-centring common in modern SUVs. Drivers encountering the Grenadier for the first time may notice that difference during the first few kilometres, but the brain adjusts quickly, and once it does, the behaviour becomes entirely natural.

INEOS also revised the bump stops, reducing the turning circle by one metre. Originally, the vehicle allowed additional clearance for heavy-duty snow chains, but in reality, few drivers required it. The result is noticeably improved manoeuvrability, particularly in tight environments. At one narrow village junction during the drive, Hans-Peter Pessler, INEOS Automotive’s COO, offered a simple instruction from the rear seat: “Turn the steering wheel early and fast.”

It works.

For those considering larger tyres, an inevitable topic in overlanding circles, the MY2026 changes have not altered the practical limits. Tyres up to 33 inches remain comfortably within the vehicle’s envelope.

INEOS has not reinvented the steering. They have simply sharpened it.

ADAS: technology required by law, tamed by engineers

If steering was the most visible criticism, the second source of irritation came from modern regulation. Across Europe, mandatory driver assistance systems continue to expand, and whether drivers welcome them or not is largely irrelevant. Manufacturers must install them. The real challenge lies in doing so without turning the driving experience into an exercise in frustration.

INEOS was clearly aware that the original Grenadier occasionally crossed that line. The speed limit warning, in particular, had a habit of making its presence annoyingly known at precisely the wrong moment.

For Model Year 2026, the system has been recalibrated with something approaching common sense. The warning tone is now a deeper, softer gong that fades quickly into the background, making it far less intrusive in normal driving. Should drivers wish to disable it, a soft button located permanently at the top of the centre touchscreen allows the alert to be switched off instantly.

The same philosophy applies to lane keep assist. Rather than fighting the steering wheel, as many vehicles still do, the Grenadier gently applies braking to the rear wheels to guide the vehicle back into the lane. The effect is subtle, controlled and, most importantly, unobtrusive.

Emergency braking has also been updated to recognise pedestrians and cyclists, while a driver drowsiness monitoring system now sits discreetly inside the rear-view mirror housing.

Hans-Peter Pessler addressed the subject with refreshing honesty.

“Maybe you can ask your readers,” he said, “what they think about ADAS systems… why do we need this?”

The comment drew quiet laughter, but it also reflected a broader truth. If these systems must exist, the Grenadier now demonstrates that they can at least operate quietly in the background… and that is probably the highest compliment any ADAS system can receive.

Smaller refinements and a Black Edition

Beyond steering and electronics, MY2026 introduces a series of smaller refinements that become more relevant the longer the vehicle is used.

The HVAC system, for example, has been revised to address uneven air distribution. On previous journeys in extreme cold, I found myself wearing a sweater and jacket behind the wheel while my passenger remained comfortable in a T-shirt. Even during the two-hour drive from Hamburg to Gut Damp in a MY2025 vehicle, the system occasionally wandered in temperature without human input. Revised airflow guides and additional control mechanisms now aim to stabilise temperature and improve circulation throughout the cabin.

Elsewhere, practical additions such as seat-back storage nets improve day-to-day usability, while subtle exterior changes, including revised headlamps with two independent LED rings for driving lamps and indicators, and more visible rear branding, refresh the design without altering its identity.

The Black Edition, standing apart during the presentation, represents a different kind of update. With black wheels, black trim, dark roof lining, carpets and privacy windows, it clearly targets buyers drawn to vehicles such as the New Defender or the G-Wagen. Yet beneath the styling, the mechanical architecture remains unchanged. The ladder-frame chassis, solid axles and core drivetrain are all still present, but front and rear diff locks are not available.

It enters the lifestyle SUV space without surrendering the engineering that defines the Grenadier.

The drive

By early afternoon the convoy finally leaves the road and climbs onto the muddy estate tracks surrounding Gut Damp. The tyres and bodywork that looked so immaculate during the presentation quickly adopt a far more appropriate appearance.

Schleswig-Holstein is, however, famously flat. Mud on a level playing field may be entertaining, but it hardly represents a serious test of a vehicle designed for mountains and remote terrain.

What the conditions do confirm is reassuring. Nothing in the MY2026 revisions suggests any negative impact on the Grenadier’s off-road capability.

But the real verdict will not arrive here.

That requires altitude, distance and rough ground… and that is exactly where the Grenadier will be heading next.

For now, Model Year 2026 delivers something rather rare in the automotive industry: a manufacturer that listened to criticism, and responded quickly.

The post INEOS Grenadier 2026 Driven: Sharper Steering, Calmer ADAS and Stable Pricing appeared first on overland-europe.

The vehicle standing before me belongs firmly in the second category.

The starting point is an INEOS Grenadier Quartermaster Trialmaster: the long-wheelbase workhorse of the Grenadier family. A perfectly good machine in stock form. It’s comfortable, solid, and more than capable of hauling you and your kit across a continent. On a personal note, I’ve driven a Quartermaster more than 20,000 km on-road, over mountain passes, in scorching deserts, and across polar ice fields…out of the box, it’s pretty damned good. But Matzker never cared much for leaving things “good enough.” Not when the hardware exists to transform potential into something truly exceptional.

Enter the MG6-Commando, a Quartermaster lifted not by springs or body blocks, but by something far more serious: LeTech-engineered portal axles. The very same type that gave the Mercedes G its legendary stance and ability to push on when others ground to a halt.

Except these aren’t Mercedes units. And that distinction matters. Because this isn’t built for show. It isn’t experimental. It isn’t a prototype. This is the real thing. Proven parts. Proven performance. A conversion that, according to Matzker’s Bernhard Körner, drives better than the standard vehicle, both on and off the road.

That’s not a claim anyone in the Land Rover world makes lightly.

Portal Axles Done Properly

First, let’s get one thing straight: portal axles are nothing new. They’ve been bolted to fire service trucks, forestry vehicles, Arctic rigs, and military transports for decades. However, they are often misunderstood, poorly sourced, or badly implemented in the civilian 4×4 world.

Anyone who’s ever stepped into a home-built hybrid with Volvo Laplander portals or a monstrous axle lift knows the feeling: noise, vibration, geometry issues, erratic steering, questionable reliability. Builds that look heroic but are a death wish at speed.

Bernhard shares this sentiment without hesitation. “There are so many catastrophic conversions. I wouldn’t want one even if you gave it to me,” he says. “If I’m honest, we’ve never really taken much interest in the concept because we simply don’t have the manpower to develop something on our own.”

The turning point came when Andreas Lennartz—founder of LeTech GmbH & Co KG, an OEM supplier for Mercedes-Benz, and the man behind the G-Wagen’s most respected portal systems—handed Bernhard the keys to a Grenadier they had converted and told him to take it for a test drive.

Bernhard expected the usual story: an impressive stance, frightening dynamics. What he got instead was something entirely different.

“It was a revelation. After the first few metres, you actually forget you’re sitting in such an imposing car. You can push it up to 160 km/h on the Autobahn, just as you would a stock model.”

A portal-axled truck that drives as well as the standard model? That stops the conversation.

A portal-axled truck that drives better? That starts a whole new one.

And that is precisely what the MG6-Commando is.

Why This Conversion Works

OEM-Grade Portal Engineering

These portals aren’t aftermarket aspirations. They’re developed by the same engineer who supplied Mercedes with the only portals that ever truly worked. (When the factory later switched to in-house designs, problems followed, including recalls.)

These units? They’re the ones with the track record. The ones that “perform faultlessly.”

The Quartermaster still uses its original axles, but they are reinforced, adapted, and engineered to accept the portals with full integrity. Nothing guessworked. No corners cut.

A Ride That Defies Expectations

The most shocking aspect of the build isn’t the clearance, the stance, or the capability; it’s the refinement.

Portal axles are usually burdened with compromise: noise, driveline stress, vague steering. Here, none of that applies.

Instead:

• High-speed stability remains excellent.
• Ride quality is surprisingly good.
• The vehicle tracks straight and true.
• Handling remains predictable.

You can give the keys to someone who’s never driven anything more than a stock SUV and they’d manage fine. This is a game-changer.

Underneath & Out Of Sight

Portal axles alone don’t make the MG6-Commando what it is. They’re just the beginning.

Heavy-Duty Underfloor Protection

The Quartermaster receives Matzker’s full underbody armour, constructed from 8 mm aviation-grade aluminium—the strongest material the market has to offer.

This isn’t thin aluminium sheet shaped into optimism. This is protection that has already logged 80,000 km on a test vehicle in real off-road conditions, including “enemy contact.”

The result:

• Surface scratches.
• Zero deformation.
• Zero displaced mounting points.
• Zero crushed housings.

That’s the difference between a system made for show and one designed to survive real world punishment.

Suspension Overhaul

Portal axles raise the entire driveline. That means geometry changes, centre-of-gravity changes, and loads the original Quartermaster suspension was never asked to handle.

So, Matzker replaces the entire system:

• Heavy-duty springs
• Reinforced dampers
• Full recalibration
• Height-appropriate bump stops
• Corrected travel characteristics

The goal: preserve handling, increase capability, and avoid the “top-heavy” feeling commonly experienced in lifted trucks.

High-Performance Brakes

A vehicle with more mass, more leverage, and more tyre requires the appropriate stopping power.

The MG6-Commando receives a properly engineered, big-brake upgrade: discs, pads, callipers…all specifically spec’d for the increased rotational mass.

Once again, this isn’t cosmetic, it’s functional. And non-negotiable.

Steering Damper, Re-Engineered

There’s been a lot of chatter on the internet about the Grenadier’s steering characteristics, something a lifted solid-axle rig could certainly worsen.

Matzker’s solution is pragmatic:

• A new steering damper
• Correct geometry
• Correct preload
• Correct alignment

The end result? “You won’t find any of the shortcomings you see on the internet here.”

Wheels and Tyres

The portals aren’t the only reason the Commando stands so tall. The truck runs a size that is, in Bernhard’s words, “typical for radical American builds,” BFGoodrich MudTerrain 37×12.50 R18: aggressive and built for traction.

The tyres are mounted on 9Jx18H2 ET55 forged aluminium wheels with a black finish.

But the key point is this: This wheel/tyre combination gives the Quartermaster a footprint that no stock configuration can match. Unlike typical big-tyre conversions, however, the driveline is designed to cope with it.

Useful Accessories

Sensible additions include:

• Rock sliders to protect the sills and act as a step
• Roof platform for carrying kit or a rooftop tent
• Auxiliary roof-mounted lamps

Everyday Reality: The Surprising Part

You’d expect a build like this to be brutal. Loud. Harsh. Inconvenient. A machine that demands respect from the driver and indifference from the passengers. But the MG6-Commando refuses to behave like a monster.

According to Matzker:

• Daily usability remains intact.
• Comfort barely changes.
• Handling stays predictable.
• Nothing becomes unmanageable.

The only real compromise? “We’re not using any multi-storey carparks anytime soon.” Fair enough.

Reverse cameras are recommended because the rear bed sits higher and the visual geometry changes. But beyond that, you could drive this thing to the bakery at 7am without waking the neighbours or putting your back out.

Perhaps the most astonishing part of the entire build is that: The Commando looks extreme, but behaves civilised.

You don’t need to be a Dakar veteran or an ex-military driver. Hand the keys to anyone with a licence, point them towards a mountain track, and they’ll get to where they want to go. That’s engineering confidence…disguised as simplicity.

Who Is This Vehicle For?

Bernhard answers with his characteristic honesty: “For everyone and nobody.”

A portal-axled Quartermaster is not something anyone needs, unless you’re in the fire service, disaster response, or are a specialist operator. But, as with all serious modifications, the real purpose lies in intent and desire.

Some reasons why owners consider this build:

Reliability in the Middle of Nowhere

If your trips take you far beyond recovery networks, every extra centimetre of clearance equals insurance.

The Last 2% of Capability

Most people will never need to climb a boulder field or ford a deep wash. But if that’s where your journey takes you, the Commando can handle it. Easily.

Engineering Enthusiasm

Some builds exist simply because someone appreciates what’s mechanically possible.

Travel Confidence

As Bernhard puts it: “If you’re an overlander looking for the ultimate in safety, capability, and reassurance that you’ll reach your destination, then this car will take you places others simply can’t.”

The Joy of Driving Something Extraordinary

Let’s not pretend passion doesn’t matter. Some machines simply spark something inside.

Is there anything missing?

A sensible, purpose-driven power philosophy. Bernhard explained that this build wasn’t commissioned by a customer, so he deliberately decided not to add Matzker’s performance enhancement. But, he adds: “If the future owner plans to use this car for serious driving, then the upgrade is a no-brainer.”

Matzker has seen too many cars become undrivable in low range when the ECU amplifies throttle signals. The Quartermaster already modifies the throttle maps when shifting into low range, so doubling that effect is a quick path to disaster.

Bernhard is blunt: “That’s the worst thing anyone can do.”

Instead, Matzker’s optional performance upgrade is at engine management level, torque-based, and usable:

• +50 horsepower
• +130 Nm of torque
• Maintains a smooth, predictable power band
• Keeps the diesel character intact
• No twitchiness, no low-speed chaos

It turns the Quartermaster from a hardworking diesel into something closer to a long-distance grand tourer, especially when combined with the MG6-Commando’s features.

Final Thoughts

The MG6-Commando is much more than just a Quartermaster with portals. It’s a reimagined Quartermaster from the ground up.

A truck built with military-grade engineering, civilian usability, and expedition reliability. A vehicle that shocks you twice: first with its stance, and then with its drivability.

Most portal builds resemble weapons but drive like compromises. This one? It looks like a weapon and drives with precision.

And if you’re the kind of traveller who wants the most capable, most confidence-inspiring, most beautifully engineered version of the Grenadier platform available today…well, this is it.

Comparison Figures

MATZKER

Photography: Tristan Brailey | Jan Werner

The post MG6-Commando: Matzker’s Portal-Axled Quartermaster appeared first on overland-europe.

He laughed when he picked up. That kind of dry, weary laugh that belongs to people who are doing too much and know it … but wouldn’t have it any other way. Three customer vehicles finished on Monday, he told me. One show car due this weekend. Then, maybe, a little breathing room for the Quartermaster project. The one bound for Dubai.

I imagined the scene: aluminium panels stacked against the wall, sparks still warm on the floor, and a black Grenadier sitting centre stage like a beast in mid-transformation. Around it, tools, jigs, cables, and a sense of quiet defiance. Black Sheep Innovations isn’t known for half measures. They build things that work, things that last. But this time, the bar was set even higher.

“We’re not just building another expedition truck,” he said. “We’re building something that proves what’s possible—even under pressure.”

Lessons from Sheepmaster One

The first Sheepmaster, built a couple of years ago, had been a revelation, but also a warning. It did everything it was meant to do: rugged, comfortable, self-contained. But it was heavy. Too heavy for Thomas’s taste. The new Quartermaster, Sheepmaster Two, would be different: stripped of excess, engineered to the gram, and focused on function.

“Every kilo matters,” he said. “When you’re overlanding, weight is the enemy. You learn that the hard way.”

This time, aluminium takes the lead. Not just in panels, but in the logic of how those panels come together. The structure is lighter, but stronger—overlapping, interlocking, folding into itself like a puzzle. Four walls and no full floor, just a rigid box that owes its strength to geometry as much as material.

Then there’s the clever part, how he uses the necessary kit as part of the design itself. The Maxtrax recovery boards aren’t simply bolted on; they’re recessed into the bodywork, each set sitting in a shallow cradle that doubles as a structural brace. The jerrycans, too, are half-sunk into the aluminium walls, their forms stiffening the box while providing vital fuel storage.

“People think of design in terms of aesthetics,” Thomas told me, “but for us, it’s always structure first. If you can make something functional and beautiful, great. But every curve, every recess, has to earn its place.”

He’s right. Look at the build long enough and you start to see it: a philosophy of economy, where nothing exists for show. Even the cut-outs and folds add stiffness. The result isn’t flashy. It’s purposeful. And that’s where the beauty lies.

Lightweight Doesn’t Mean Fragile

When he says “lightweight,” he doesn’t mean fragile. The rig is still built to take punishment. But rather than relying on thick plate and brute strength, he’s rethinking the way the structure carries its load.

The roof supports an Intrepid Geo 3.0 hard-shell tent, but even that has been re-engineered. The tent floor has been removed to create a direct access from the shell below. There’s no need to step outside in wind or rain. Gas struts will lift the bed, creating standing height and giving the space a sense of volume that’s rare in compact expedition setups.

Inside, the bed frame is still a work of mental engineering. It has to fold, tilt, and shift to make space for two people. “It’s not just furniture,” Thomas said, “it’s choreography.”

Every Millimetre Counts

Under the flatbed lies a masterpiece of packaging. When he first looked at the Grenadier’s chassis, he saw wasted space between frame and floor. To most builders, that void is too shallow to be useful. To Thomas, it was an invitation.

He spent two weeks measuring, adjusting, mocking up components until everything fit with millimetre precision. Into that space went an 18-litre air tank, air horns, a diesel heater, dual freshwater tanks (32 litres each), a pull-out kitchen box from MOKUBO, and additional storage modules—all neatly mounted on slides that extend a full metre and a half from the rear.

“We’ve got maybe two or three millimetres clearance left,” he said, almost proud. “But everything fits. It’s tight, but it works. And when it works, that’s a good feeling.”

A fold-out stair system tucks beneath, ready to deploy when needed. Every corner serves a purpose. The goal is not to show off, it’s to make sure that no space goes unused and no weight is wasted. Even the smallest detail is guided by an understanding of what happens when you’re thousands of kilometres from home and the terrain stops forgiving mistakes.

Simplify, but Add Function

Step inside the cabin and the same thinking continues. The rear bench is gone. A clean sixty-five kilos shaved straight away. In its place sits a partition and a practical workspace: a fridge on one side, a Milwaukee tool array on the other.

“We’ll be out there for weeks,” he said. “We need to be able to repair whatever breaks, wherever we are. There’s no calling a service truck.”

Milwaukee joined the project as a partner, providing a full suite of cordless gear. It’s a small victory in a build otherwise powered by sweat equity and long hours. “Sometimes,” he added, “when people believe in what you’re doing, they make the impossible a bit more manageable.”

Up front, new aluminium mounts are being machined for laptops, cameras, and comms devices—designed to match the cockpit’s lines rather than clutter them. The Delta Bags seat covers are already fitted, and five-point harnesses are coming next. Not for show, but for posture. “When you drive long distances, you start to collapse into the seat. This helps keep you upright. And, yes, it looks a bit like rally spec,” he admitted with a grin.

Power and Independence

Modern vehicles are ruled by electronics, and the Grenadier is no exception. But Thomas treats electrical systems the same way he treats everything else: understand it, simplify it, make it work.

“We’re not fans of the factory wiring,” he said bluntly. “It’s overcomplicated. Too many shared circuits. But you can’t just rebuild it—it’s too deep.”

Instead, they’ve re-routed what they could, lifted the looms higher to protect them from the terrain, and added layers of redundancy. The onboard power comes from an EcoFlow Delta 2 Max, fed by roof-mounted solar and an alternator booster. If the main batteries go down, the EcoFlow can backfeed and jump-start the system.

That’s independence … not in the romantic sense, but the practical one that keeps engines turning when things go wrong.

He’s also testing a Global Guard OBD module. Developed in Switzerland, it lets his workshop monitor the vehicle remotely in real time. Engine data, transmission behaviour, even fault codes can be read and reset from home.

“It’s the first one made for the Grenadier,” he said. “Our workshop can watch it live while we’re driving through Iran or the Emirates. It’s a safety net, but also a glimpse of what’s coming for modern overlanding.”

And as for INEOS? He just laughed. “They like what we’re doing, privately. But officially? Nothing. Not even a sticker. That’s fine. Independence cuts both ways.”

Suspension and Stance

The Sheepmaster stands taller than most (other than those fitted with portals). That’s partly because of the prototype rally suspension that’s about to go in. A system worth eight thousand euros, built to take the punishment of high-speed gravel and corrugations. Massive dampers, heavy-duty Eibach springs, and travel figures that will make even seasoned off-roaders raise an eyebrow.

“It’s only been fitted once before,” Thomas said. “We’ll be the first to test it properly. Expect about seven centimetres lift, maybe more once it settles.”

The Invictus alloy wheels, flown in from the US, complete the stance. Ultra-light but rated to carry fifteen hundred kilos each, they feature integrated air-release valves and the sort of machining you usually see on aerospace parts.

Beneath, the belly is armoured in 12mm aluminium—doubled to 24mm in impact zones. The Black Sheep rock sliders and stainless mid-plates are designed to take abuse without complaint.

“If something breaks, we can unbolt and replace it,” he said. “So far, nothing has.”

Up front, a removable Australian bull bar is on its way. If it arrives in time, it’ll be a bolt-on accessory — something travellers can mount for expeditions and remove for legality on European roads. A factory winch sits ready behind the bumper, because if you’re travelling solo, you plan for self-recovery, not rescue.

Insulation, Safety, and the Subtle Stuff

Inside the box, the walls are 30mm insulated panels covered with felt … warm to the touch, soft enough to turn aluminium into something habitable. Hidden behind the side-mounted Maxtrax are concealed windows, invisible from outside. Security sits high on the priority list, especially when you’re parked up far from civilisation.

Even the door locks are unconventional. Some are the kind you’d find on a gun safe rather than a camper. “You can’t stop everyone,” he said, “but you can slow them down.”

There’s a quiet logic to it all. Not paranoia, just preparedness. When you’ve spent months building a home on wheels, you don’t want it broken into for a packet of biscuits and a phone charger.

Boxes That Build Themselves

At the back of the cabin, the furniture is almost non-existent, by design. Instead of plywood or composite cabinetry, Thomas uses Tradom (formerly Tread) storage boxes, the heavy-duty polymer crates better known for strapping to roof racks. Three sit side by side, connected so that their lids open in unison. It’s modular, indestructible, and easily replaced.

“They’re overbuilt for off-road use,” he explained. “You can sit on them, sleep on them, throw them off a truck. And they link together, so you can open all three at once. It’s brilliant.”

Black Sheep is now importing the boxes directly, with plans to distribute them across Europe.

“They’re too good to keep to ourselves,” he said. “And soon, Maxtrax will have a European base in Holland, so things will move faster.”

The Man Behind the Metal

There’s a moment in every call with Thomas when the conversation slows, when the technical talk fades and the man behind the metal takes over. You can hear the fatigue in his voice, but also something else: pride.

“It’s chaos,” he admitted. “But it’s good chaos. We’ve got maybe two weeks left. The list keeps changing, but that’s fine. It’s always like this before a big journey.”

He’s not one for corporate polish. There are no slogans, no speeches about brand alignment or marketing reach. What he builds is born from use, not theory. And that’s what makes it worth writing about.

Before we ended the call, I asked if he ever wonders why he does it—the long nights, the deadlines, the endless tinkering. He paused for a moment, then laughed again, the sound of a grinder sparking somewhere behind him.

“Because it’s what we do. We build. We test. We push. And when it’s done—when it all works—that’s the moment that makes it worth it.”

The connection faded, replaced by the steady whirr of the workshop. Somewhere in Cologne, I closed my notebook and smiled. The beast was coming to life—not through hype or sponsorship, but through the sheer will of a man and his team who refuse to settle for “good enough.”

In a few weeks, Sheepmaster Two will roll into Dubai. And when it does, it’ll carry more than just tools and gear. It’ll carry proof that craftsmanship still matters … that true adventure starts not on the road, but in the workshop, long before the dust ever hits the tyres.

Follow their journey as it unfolds on Instagram

BLACK SHEEP | INSTAGRAM

The post Black Sheep to Dubai — Episode 2: Building the Beast appeared first on overland-europe.

Back then, he wasn’t running a company. He was a Swiss carpenter chasing a drunken bet across Asia.

Thomas didn’t begin in a workshop full of CNC machines and laser-cut aluminium. He began on rooftops, hammer in hand, a site foreman shaping timber under Alpine rain. The work was precise, physical, and unforgiving. When something leaked, you couldn’t talk your way out of it—you fixed it. That mindset stayed.

Off-road driving was his escape valve. Spanners at night, trails at the weekend, the satisfying logic of machinery after days of wood and weather. Then came the Indian Ocean tsunami in 2004, a disaster half a world away that would end up redirecting his life.

Thomas and his partner were regular divers in Thailand. After the waves hit, local friends begged visitors not to stay away—tourism was their lifeline. So the couple kept returning year after year, helping the region recover in the only way they could: by being there.

One night the beer and whisky flowed freely and bravado did the rest. Flying with dive gear had become torture. “Next time,” Thomas said, “I’ll pack it in a truck and drive.” Everyone laughed. Four years later, he rolled into Thailand in a home-built overlander, dive kit in the back.

He hadn’t picked a Land Rover, the crowd favourite. Instead he went with a Santana PS-10—the Spanish cousin with more heart than glamour. Cheaper by miles, square-cut, leaf-sprung front and rear. Simple, repairable, honest. He saw the weak points and built around them: pop-top roof, full interior, everything by hand. When others sank into the sofa, Thomas stayed in the workshop.

Then he pointed the bonnet east and just kept going.

The journey that followed was pure, old-school overlanding. Improvised borders, improvised repairs, and a crash course in the physics of weight. The Santana was originally specced for just over three tonnes and ended up well past four. It coped until it didn’t. In Laos the axles lost their sense of geometry. In Mongolia the leaf springs capitulated day in, day out—as many as eleven breaks in just one day. Each time Thomas fixed them in the field and carried on.

He and his partner reached Thailand the hard way and came home the long way: through Pakistan during the war, Syria before it ignited, even an illicit dash into Vietnam. Thirteen months on the road. Seventy-five thousand kilometres. Fifty-six countries.

When they rolled into Bad Kissingen for the Abenteuer & Allrad show a year later, the truck looked every bit of it—scarred, dirty, and alive. The previous summer it had gleamed under the lights; now people came to see what had survived. The answer was clear: the parts that were light, logical, and easy to fix.

Back in Switzerland, the rhythm of construction work resumed, but only briefly. The body was wearing out—discs, back, patience. Thomas could keep earning a wage until something broke for good, or turn his obsession into a living. He chose the latter.

The VW Amarok became his canvas. In those early days the Amarok world was a blank sheet. Toyota’s Hilux owned the numbers, Land Rover the legend. The VW had clean lines, solid bones, and almost no aftermarket. Perfect.

He built what the truck deserved: smart storage, accessories that looked like factory options, not bolt-ons. Everything guided by two rules—keep it functional, keep it light. Each kilo saved was one less failure waiting to happen.

The name came easily. Amarok means “wolf” in an Inuit language. In his own words, Thomas had always felt like the outsider, the black sheep. Accessories for the wolf, made by the black sheep. Black Sheep Innovations—the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

He worked mostly alone, building and testing on his own Amarok, which doubled as prototype and advert. Word spread. Hunters, municipal crews, and travellers saw the difference: practical design that felt engineered, not improvised. Orders followed, and with them a reputation for precision and restraint.

But the industry shifted. VW tied the Amarok to Ford, and the new truck didn’t feel right. The gut said no. Thomas walked away rather than compromise. A brief flirtation with the Isuzu D-Max confirmed what he already knew: he needed a platform that inspired him, not just paid the bills.

Then came the Grenadier.

The first time he saw one, it was surrounded by over-eager students at Bad Kissingen, stumbling through brochures about “heritage.” The presentation was awful, but the bones looked promising. Switzerland later received the first 136 vehicles, and Thomas had contacts in the right yard. Before the official launch he was crawling through one, removing panels, tracing welds, looking for logic.

He found it. Square steel, straightforward design, solid mounting points. Subtle roof bars and airline tracks built in—not decoration but function.

While others tried to shoehorn Land Rover habits onto a new chassis, Thomas followed the Grenadier’s own cues. A roof platform bolted to the factory bars. A fold-out table mounted to the airline track on the rear door. MOLLE carriers tied cleanly into factory fixing points. Every line looked like it belonged.

The reaction was instant. Orders from across Europe and the US flooded in. For 18 months, two men tried to meet global demand from a small Swiss workshop. They couldn’t keep up—but they kept their standards. Customers waited because they trusted the hands behind the metal.

Success brought its own problems. A distributor in the States began copying parts, tariffs rose, margins shrank. For a bigger company it might have been fatal; for Black Sheep it was just another test. They’d learned long ago how to improvise under pressure.

Then, early 2025, came the call from Dubai.


A new 4×4 Expo in the Safari Park, under the shadow of the Burj Khalifa. The easy option was to ship a demo truck and fly. Thomas chose the harder one: drive there, from Switzerland, and make the journey part of the story.

The Quartermaster sits in pieces on the shop floor. Five weeks to go. The goal: lighter, smarter, truer to the Grenadier’s bones. Instead of a heavy camper box, he designed four structural walls, with stiffness coming from the interior fit. The “roof” would be an Intrepid hard-shell tent with the floor cut out and the bed on gas struts—enter from inside, keep the weather out.

Water and air systems sit low in the chassis. Drawers claim the dead space. Nothing added that doesn’t earn its keep.

Partners stepped up with top-tier kit: 4×4 Proyect from Spain supplying Bilstein-based rally suspension, the first set in Europe; wheels from the US with integrated deflators; Osram lamps so new they won’t hit the market until November. For Thomas it felt like Christmas, only louder and greasier.

But the parts list is secondary. The philosophy drives everything: weight is the enemy, clean design wins, and authenticity beats marketing every time. In Dubai, with the desert sun on the paint and the city skyline beyond, the Quartermaster will either look right—or it won’t.

On the map the route seems simple: Switzerland, Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, then the dream line through Iran, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and into the Emirates. If politics shift, there are alternates. Worst case, a ferry from Greece. The plan is flexible because it has to be.

Safety isn’t theatre. Updates will post 48 hours late, never live. Camps are chosen by instinct—if one of the crew feels uneasy, they move on. Nights are spent in the truck; hotels exist for showers and laundry, not stories.

The further east they plan, the more invitations arrive. Off-road clubs in Kuwait, friends in Saudi, all eager to host. Hospitality is genuine but eats time. The key is to reach Turkey fast, then let the Middle East set the pace.

The Quartermaster will be heavy enough to matter but light enough to live. Tools, fluids, and critical spares only. Thomas trusts the vehicle; he knows its quirks. A warning light means conversation, not catastrophe. Cover the dash if you must—but keep moving.

Time constraints mean they will only be driving one way. Black Sheep can only close the workshop for three and a half weeks. Once the show ends, the team will fly home and the Quartermaster will follow in a container, probably to Bremerhaven.

The challenge isn’t the kilometres—it’s the rhythm. Seven thousand of them can be done; the art lies in covering ground without burning out, saying yes to people without losing days, staying loose while the clock keeps ticking. It’s not off-road bravado. It’s logistics, discipline, and a taste for uncertainty.

And when the truck finally rolls into Dubai, dusted but intact, it won’t just be another display piece. It’ll stand as proof that good design and real-world thinking survive the miles.

Thomas calls the trip an Egotrip, but there’s no arrogance in it. It’s about feeding the restlessness that built the company in the first place. Running a small workshop ties you to the phone, the orders, the routine. A long road trip blows the walls out again. New countries, new faces, new sparks of ideas—that’s what keeps him moving.

He’s clear about the philosophy: this is overlanding, not off-roading. The goal is to arrive with the truck intact and your head full of stories. Breaking things for applause never made sense to him. A machine that survives speaks louder than one that dies dramatically.

The Santana taught that lesson. Every failure came from excess weight. Ever since, he’s treated simplicity as survival.

He also trusts the Grenadier. The so-called sensor circus doesn’t scare him. Older trucks overheated and nobody noticed; now the dashboard just tells you. Experience filters the noise.

Risk, he says, is mostly about how you behave. During that first long journey, the most dangerous country wasn’t war-torn Pakistan but peaceful-looking Nepal. Stay small, stay respectful, talk to people, and the road will look after you.

That outlook threads through every weld and line of the Quartermaster. It’s built to go the distance and come home stronger. The Dubai show might be the official destination, but the real story will be written between the borders—one kilometre, one conversation, one idea at a time.

Black Sheep Innovations began because one man couldn’t leave an idea alone. It grew because those ideas worked: light, functional, honest.

Now that same thinking heads east in a Grenadier Quartermaster, chasing the horizon once more.


By the time it sits under the Burj Khalifa, gleaming in the desert light, the journey that made it will already be behind it—written not in press releases, but in dust and distance.

BLACK SHEEP

Watch this space for more details on the Quartermaster to Sheepmaster conversion.

The post Black Sheep to Dubai 2025 – Episode 1 appeared first on overland-europe.

Looking at friends and colleagues who climb down from their rooftop tents in the morning, drop the tailgate and brew coffee strong enough to wake the dead and evict the devils left behind from last night’s fire-side storytelling, I join a community of travellers who see a pickup as both overlander and daily driver. School runs and office commutes aren’t on my to-do list. More a case of squeezing through alleys in ancient towns on the brink of extinction, or following a faint trail through remote terrain to help a conservation project or trace trade routes so pale they no longer show on maps.

So why has Larry, my faithful 1963 Land Rover, fallen into disrepute? He hasn’t. But driving a vintage truck with no creature comforts isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. I love the bare-bones simplicity and the fact that maintenance can be carried out anywhere with cheap, readily available parts.

But a modern pickup with comfortable seats, air conditioning, power steering, suspension that forgives oversight, the ability to melt into modern traffic, and the capacity to satisfy weekend warriors and long-haul overlanders alike…that’s a different challenge. One for the modern family man—and his wife who also needs space for kids, luggage and sports kit.

The VW Amarok PanAmericana with its factory-fitted hardtop has an air about it, hinting it’ll fare better than its SUV siblings once the asphalt runs out. Probably? Well, that’s what I wanted to find out. And what better way than to live with one for a couple of weeks.

First Impressions

Walk around from near or far and the sculpted form comes across as rugged, purposeful…and enormous. A long beast, which should mean a roomy cabin and plenty of bed space. Good for travel. Urban parking? We’ll see.

It sits on 20” alloys shod with road tyres—not ideal for off-pavement work, but that’s an easy fix. Steel rims and A/T, M/T or R/T tyres will slot easily under the squared arches.

The hardtop is a win: security, weather protection, and a look that’s less workhorse, more refined traveller. Locks tie into the central locking, so no fumbling with keys on a dark night and less chance of leaving the tailgate open.

On the road, the PanAmericana is planted and predictable. Steering has feel. The Ford-sourced 3.0-litre V6 TDI flows with traffic in comfort. Even the neighbours were impressed. These are people used to seeing 4x4s and expedition trucks in front of my house, yet the Amarok drew praise. “So you’ve finally got a normal car then!”

Driving back from the Eifel, an oncoming Amarok flashed its headlamps and the driver raised a hand in salute. I thought that was a Land Rover habit. Turns out Amarok drivers are an enthusiastic bunch, too. Love that.

Inside the Cabin

VW’s team has done a fine job. Sliding behind the wheel, the driver’s seat adjusts to fit all physiques. Plenty of shoulder and leg room. At first the smart dash layout and big centre screen felt out of place, but the leather upholstery, Harman Kardon sound system and general ambience soon proved otherwise. This is not just a polished load-lugger in disguise.

Appearance and comfort rival some premium SUVs. Controls are well placed. Visibility from the driver’s seat is excellent. You know you’re in a “proper” truck when you look out over the magnificent bonnet and see exactly where the corners and arches sit. Other drivers think twice before cutting you up.

Even on the hottest days, the air-conditioning kept the cabin cool without the fans drowning out a podcast.

Rear seats? Great for kids. Taller adults may find it tight behind my driving position, but quality is consistent throughout.

And then the litmus test: door shut. Hollow bang or solid thud? The Amarok passes with a reassuring thump. On the highway, you can hold a conversation without shouting. Solid. Soundproofed.

Powertrain & Handling

The recipe: V6 TDI, 240 bhp, 600 Nm, 10-speed auto, 2H/4H/4L transfer box, rear diff lock. Enough to get you anywhere across storm, rock, sand or snow.

But this isn’t just about spec sheets. Empty or loaded, the suspension won’t rattle your fillings, and body roll isn’t excessive. Firm and comfortable is the verdict.

Big number: 2,399 kg unladen. Don’t expect to win drag races. Country lanes and twisty climbs are simply dispatched: point, press, go. On the motorway, the long wheelbase irons out imperfections. Long hauls are easy miles. Top speed? 180 km/h, but who cares. Loaded with kit and maybe a rooftop tent, you’ll cruise at 120.

Off-road, torque through the 10-speed box makes for predictable progress. And when it gets sticky, flick the diff lock.

Rooftop tents? No problem. Dynamic and static load ratings of 85 kg and 350 kg respectively make the Amarok an ideal overlanding platform.

Practicality

On road: 5.35 m long, 1.9 m wide (without mirrors), just under 1.9 m tall. Not as long as the Grenadier Quartermaster, but longer than any SUV you can name. Urban parking bays can be a squeeze. Turning circle is 12.9 m—less than the Quartermaster’s 14.5, more than a HiLux.

Load space: two Euro pallets fit easily. With the hardtop, gear stays safe and dry. Just remember, unsecured loads will slide. Tie it down, or risk climbing in after your groceries.

As a daily driver, patience may be needed for parking.

As an overlander: this is your basecamp. Bedroom high above the critters. Kitchen on the tailgate. Space for everything. Four seats—unless, like me, you use one for the fridge.

If you take your overlanding seriously, off-the-shelf stats are solid: 800 mm wading, 30°/23°/21° approach, departure and ramp. After-market accessories can boost them further.

Likes & Dislikes

Every owner has different priorities, but as an expedition contender or weekend escape rig, here’s my take.

Likes: payload capacity; accurate steering; excellent visibility; comfort that sets the benchmark.

Dislikes: exterior panels feel thin—dings will show; modern electronics mean field repairs aren’t always straightforward.

The Takeaway

So, does the mythical creature of the overlander/daily driver exist? Not everyone can afford two vehicles. If you’re serious about vehicle supported remote travel and need one car to do it all, the Amarok PanAmericana (or a simpler trim) deserves a place on your shortlist.

Off-road it’s capable. On-road it’s comfortable. Payload is generous. VW has a global footprint, so spares shouldn’t be a problem when you’re far from home.

The PanAmericana spec is good value: capable, comfortable, and (almost) showroom-ready for travel. Add your own kit and personal touches—the accessory market is ready to help.

Second-Hand Tip

The Amarok PanAmericana isn’t your average building-site hack, so keep an eye on the used market as leasing contracts end. Well-specced, well-serviced examples—likely with few off-road miles—will appear. If you’re looking for a solid pickup foundation for travel, why not a pre-owned Amarok? The first owner swallows the depreciation. You swallow the miles.

VOLKSWAGEN

The post Myth-buster: Two Weeks with the VW Amarok PanAmericana appeared first on overland-europe.

Meet the Grand California Dune

Built for adventure. Finished like a show car.

The new Grand California Dune makes its debut with an exclusive Ascot Grey paint job–a chalky, dune-inspired tone straight out of Europe’s beaches and African deserts. High-gloss black 17-inch Lismore alloys, black decals, and compass graphics complete the rugged, all-terrain look. Want 4MOTION all-wheel drive and a rear diff lock? No problem, they’re on the options list.

Standard kit includes:

• Advanced Assist Package with Adaptive Cruise Control, Travel Assist, and Emergency Assist
• LED headlights, Rear View camera, folding mirrors
• Air Care Climatronic auto air conditioning
• Camping essentials: table, folding chairs, and customisable mood lighting

Prices start at €88,964.40 for the Dune 600 and €91,885.85 for the longer Dune 680. Both come with a 163 PS TDI engine and 8-speed auto. And there’s an early bird saving of up to €3,623.

Inside, things get a serious upgrade: bamboo-look surfaces, durable PVC flooring, black-out blinds, luggage nets, and a reworked outdoor dining table system. A new optional thermal mat / blackout kit rounds it off.

California Energy: Icon Recharged

Volkswagen’s California camper range got a full refresh in 2024. For 2025, three new Energy editions are landing at Caravan Salon: the Beach Camper Energy, Coast Energy, and Ocean Energy.

All three come stacked with practical gear.

California Beach Camper Energy

With a pop-up roof and two upstairs beds, the Beach Camper adds:

• Full kitchenette with 230V shore power
• Auxiliary heater with remote control
• 3-zone Climatronic A/C
• Travel Assist and Basic Parking Pack
• Blackout blinds / thermal mats
• Black 17-inch Dundrod wheels
• Heated seats, heated leather steering wheel, and safety tech galore

Price: from €75,102.09 – savings up to €4,600.

California Coast & Ocean Energy

The Coast adds wall-mounted kitchen units and premium extras. The Ocean takes it further with:

• Electro-hydraulic pop-up roof
• IQ.Light LED Matrix headlights
• Dynamic Light Assist + cornering lights
• 18-inch black Toshima alloys

Prices:

• Coast Energy: from €83,319.04, saving up to €4,480
• Ocean Energy: from €88,775.19, saving up to €4,570

All models go on sale 29 August, 2025, coinciding with Caravan Salon 2025. VW will showcase the full camper van lineup–Grand California, California, and Caddy California–in Hall 16.

Ready to explore? These new models bring premium tech, smarter interiors, and real-world value to Europe’s favourite camper vans.

Gallery

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Back in 2005, it launched as a curious crossover between the Multivan and the California. Fast-forward to 2025, and it’s a fully-fledged camper legend–with the brand-new Beach Camper Energy special model landing just in time for its big birthday.

Let’s take a look at how this cult classic earned its stripes.

2005: Born on the T5, The Summer Never Ended

Sundown Orange decals, surfboards on the roof, and grey metallic paint: the Multivan Beach hit the scene in full beach-bum glory. It looked like a camper. It was a camper. But it could still handle the daily grind.

The idea? Take the flexibility of the Multivan, bolt in smart camping gear, and create a more affordable entry to vanlife. It worked. The Beach made freedom feel accessible–and it became a hit straight away.

Clever, Modular, and Ready to Roll

Inside, it was all about smart space. The bed folded from the back seats. A clever rail system locked everything in place. Chairs and tables stowed into panels and tailgates. You could even turn it into a 5-seater with a removable rear seat.

Curtains attached with magnets. Camping boxes slotted into floor rails. Netting, hooks, storage units–all simple, all functional.

2007: Enter the Pop-Up Roof — and the California Name

Two years later, the Beach got its now-iconic pop-up roof and adopted the California badge. Now families could sleep four with ease–two up, two down–and stand up inside. It was still a Multivan underneath, but now it had real camper credentials.

2009: Cape2Cape and the Off-Road Spirit

The Beach wasn’t just for campsites. VWCV proved that in 2008 with Cape2Cape — a 24,000 km expedition from Norway to South Africa in just 60 days. The yellow, kitted-out Beaches that made the trip inspired a special edition: the Cape2Cape model.

All-wheel drive, diff locks, lift kits, snorkels — this was a Beach with bite.

That same year, the pop-up roof became standard, DSG replaced the old auto box, and the whole interior got a smart upgrade.

2015–2019: Two-Tones, Touchscreens, and Tiny Kitchens

The T6 generation arrived in 2015. Cleaner lines, smarter drives, and the return of two-tone paint — a nod to the T1/T2 glory days.

By 2019, the Beach was available with an optional kitchenette (fold-out, single-burner) and came in two versions: Camper and Tour. Both had new control panels, touchscreen roof consoles, and better electrics — plus a pop-top with zips, windows, and full open-air mode.

2024–2025: The Smartest Beach Yet

Built on the long-wheelbase Multivan (MQB), the latest California Beach is smarter, lighter, and more modular than ever.

• Standard pop-up roof
• Optional mini kitchen in the rear
• 2+2+2 seating with lighter removable seats
• Sliding doors on both sides
• New camper control unit in the C-pillar
• Optional plug-in hybrid (eHybrid 4MOTION)

Three versions are now available: Beach, Beach Tour, and Beach Camper.

2025: Enter the Beach Camper Energy

To mark 20 years, VW is launching the Beach Camper Energy — a factory special packed with comfort tech and gear that normally sits on the options list.

Standard features include:

• Awning + rails
• Camper heater with remote
• 3-zone Air Care Climatronic
• Travel Assist + Park Assist
• Blackout blinds and thermal mats
• Heated seats and leather steering wheel
• 17″ Dundrod alloys in black

Price: from €75,102.09 — with savings up to €4,600.

Wrap-Up: From Sundown Orange to eHybrid Freedom

What started as a funky surf van has become one of Europe’s most iconic camper concepts: adaptable, compact, and ready for anything. Whether you’re heading for the Alps or parking at the office, the California Beach is still that Swiss Army knife on wheels.

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