The pitches are laid out like a small, slightly disorganized village where everyone has a wheeled house. You’ll see massive motorhomes that look like they could survive a zombie apocalypse, parked right next to a tiny, battered caravan that has clearly seen more campsites than a postman on a bank holiday. The space between them is just enough to wave hello without having to share your packet of biscuits.
There’s a lovely, unspoken hierarchy here. The folks with the awning that could house a small family are the established ones, while the couple with just a pop-up tent are the free spirits. Everyone nods knowingly as you try to reverse onto your pitch for the eighth time, offering advice you didn’t ask for but secretly needed.
Facilities: The Glorious Washroom
Let’s talk about the showers, because that’s the real test of any campsite. Black Knowl’s shower block isn’t a sterile, clinical lab; it’s like a warm, slightly steamy hug after a muddy walk. The water pressure is surprisingly good, strong enough to blast the confusion of the journey right out of your hair, but not so aggressive you feel like you’re being interrogated.
The floors are clean enough to eat your dinner off, but you won’t because that’s weird. You’ll find the occasional rogue puddle that someone “accidentally” left, but the heated floors make the whole experience feel oddly luxurious. It’s the little things, like a hook that actually holds your towel, that make you think, “Ah, this is the life.”
And the washing-up area? It’s the true social hub, where you’ll swap tales of leaking tap connections and the best local pub. It’s a lot like a kitchen table, but with more soap suds and the faint smell of dishwater.
Black Knowl Club Campsite | The Caravan Club
