Right then, let’s be honest. You’ve done it. You’ve navigated the treacherous maze of online...
Motorhome accessories are dangerous things. You pop into a shop for toilet fluid and come out with a heated egg poacher, a collapsible washing line shaped like a dreamcatcher, and a receipt long enough to qualify as soft furnishings.
The problem is not that accessories are bad. Some are genuinely brilliant. A good levelling ramp can save a marriage. A decent chair can turn a lay by sandwich into a royal banquet. But some gadgets are sold as life changing when, in truth, they are mostly wallet changing. Here are five motorhome accessories that often promise far more than they deliver.
The satellite TV dome that thinks it is mission control
The roof mounted satellite TV dome is the classic overhyped accessory. It sits on top of the motorhome like a small white UFO and gives the impression that you are either watching the football or communicating with a distant planet called Brian.
The sales pitch is glorious. Watch your favourite channels wherever you travel. Keep up with live sport. Enjoy home comforts on the road. Then you park under a tree in Devon and the thing gives up quicker than a deckchair in a gale. Satellite systems need a clear view of the sky, which is awkward because campsites are fond of trees, hills and weather.
A lot of money to watch the same repeats
A good system can cost a fair bit once fitting and equipment are included, and for many casual tourers it simply does not earn its keep. If you are away for months, follow live sport religiously, or tour in places with miserable mobile signal, fair enough. It may be useful.
But if you mostly head away for weekends, the cheaper solution is painfully simple. Download a few programmes before you leave, take a tablet, pack a book, or speak to the person sitting next to you. I appreciate that last option may feel extreme, especially after they reversed you into a hedge earlier.

The tiny motorhome washing machine with big appliance energy
Portable washing machines sound like genius. Clean clothes on the road. No hunting for launderettes. No standing in a campsite laundry room beside a mystery sock and a man called Geoff who wants to discuss detergent settings.
Then reality arrives wearing damp trousers. These little machines need water, power, space, draining, time and somewhere to dry the clothes afterwards. In a motorhome, that last bit is important. There is nothing quite like trying to enjoy breakfast while yesterday’s pants are swinging gently above the table like a warning flag.
Laundry freedom, but only if you enjoy chores in miniature
For full time travellers, a portable washer might make sense. For everyone else, it can become a plastic tub of guilt that lives in the garage and rattles accusingly every time you go round a roundabout.
Most short trips are better served by packing sensibly, using campsite laundry facilities when needed, or accepting that a fleece can be worn more than once if nobody makes eye contact with it. Motorhome life is about freedom, not spending Tuesday evening wringing out socks in a lay by.

The luxury coffee machine that demands a power station
Coffee machines are tempting because they whisper sophisticated lies. They say, “You are not a tired person in a fleece looking for the waste point. You are a European café owner with excellent cheekbones.” Unfortunately, many proper coffee machines are not built for gentle off grid motorhome life.
Some need plenty of power. Some take up valuable worktop space. Some require pods, water tanks, cleaning cycles and the sort of patience normally reserved for flat pack furniture. The dream is barista quality coffee. The reality can be a loud little box draining your battery while you stand there muttering, “I only wanted a cup.”
A kettle never needed a software update
The most reliable motorhome coffee solutions are often boring, cheap and smugly effective. A cafetière, moka pot, AeroPress or even a decent instant coffee will usually do the job without demanding half your leisure battery and a counselling session.
If the machine genuinely makes your mornings better, keep it. I am not a monster. But if you bought one because a glossy photo showed a couple smiling beside a mountain while holding perfect cappuccinos, remember they probably had a photographer, a generator and no grey waste tank to empty.

The drive away awning that wants a week of your life
A drive away awning can be brilliant for longer stays, especially if you have children, dogs, bikes or the sort of camping furniture collection that suggests you are opening a village hall. Extra space is lovely. Shelter is lovely. Somewhere to dump muddy shoes is almost a spiritual experience.
But for short trips, some awnings can feel like assembling a small fabric cathedral in a crosswind. There are poles, pegs, straps, groundsheets, instructions, arguments and one mysterious part that nobody can identify but everyone agrees looks important. By the time it is up, you have lost daylight, patience and possibly a neighbour.
Great if you stay put, silly if you keep moving
The clue is in the name. Drive away. You set it up, detach the motorhome, go out for the day, return, and attempt to line everything back up without looking like you are docking with the International Space Station.
If you mainly tour from place to place, staying one or two nights at a time, a big awning may be more trouble than it is worth. A simple canopy, windbreak or quick shelter can be far less dramatic. Nobody wants their relaxing weekend to include a wrestling match with canvas while nearby campers pretend not to watch.

The gadget packed outdoor kitchen that follows you around
The outdoor kitchen setup is where many sensible people lose their minds. It starts with a small barbecue. Then comes the folding table, the griddle, the pizza oven, the prep station, the spice rack, the lantern, the special tongs, the storage box and a cast iron pan heavy enough to anchor a ferry.
In your head, you are cooking a relaxed sunset feast. In reality, the wind has blown the napkins into another county, the sausages are both burnt and raw, and you have spent longer setting up dinner than it would have taken to find a pub.
Sometimes a sandwich is the hero
Outdoor cooking kit is not bad. A good barbecue or stove can be a joy. The problem is the overbuilt version where half the payload is taken up by things designed to char vegetables artistically.
Before buying another shiny cooking accessory, ask yourself how often you will really use it, where you will store it, how you will clean it, and whether you actually enjoy cooking outside when the British weather is behaving like a thrown bucket. If the answer is “only when the advert looks nice,” step away from the pizza oven.

The real test before buying any accessory
The best way to judge a motorhome accessory is not to ask, “Would this be nice?” That is how people end up with inflatable footstools, solar fairy lights for the shower, and a collapsible colander in three colours. The better question is, “Will I use this often enough to justify the money, space and faff?”
Space matters. Weight matters. Setup time matters. So does your personal tolerance for fiddly equipment. Some people love gadgets. They enjoy the process. They read manuals with a cup of tea and a highlighter. Others want to park up, open the door and sit down before anyone says the word instructions.
Spend money where it actually improves the trip
For most motorhome owners, the best accessories are not flashy. They are the things that quietly make every trip easier. A comfortable mattress topper. Proper outdoor chairs. Good levelling ramps. Useful storage. A reliable torch. A kettle that does not make life difficult. These items do not look exciting in a showroom, but neither does common sense.
So before you hand over a small fortune for the latest miracle accessory, picture yourself using it on a damp Tuesday evening in Norfolk. If it still seems useful, go for it. If it feels like another thing to unpack, plug in, clean, fold, charge, drain, align or apologise to, leave it on the shelf and spend the money on fuel, campsite fees and emergency cake. That is the holy trinity of motorhome happiness.
Subscribe to our newsletter and get the latest articles delivered straight to your inbox.
