Inside a dream £110,000 SNP battle bus that became a nightmare for Sturgeon

Talk about timing. Here I am on a sunny Staffordshire forecourt opening cupboards and playing around with the swivelling seats in a headline-grabbing, high-spec, motorhome-cum-SNP battle bus, when word of another high-profile arrest comes through.

Colin Beattie, the party treasurer and sitting member of the Scottish parliament has been questioned by police about whether £600,000 earmarked for independence campaigning was diverted elsewhere in 2021.

Who he? It doesn’t much matter. The real focus now is on the luxury RV seized by police as part of the investigation threatening to bring down Scotland’s ruling party.

Stewart Hosie, the lickspittle MP for Dundee East and a former SNP deputy leader has vehemently argued that only people within the “political bubble” truly care about missing cash stories. These aren’t “cutting through” to the average voter, he claimed.

He’s right. Or at least he was right. Nobody turned a hair when it was just a discussion about balance sheets. But absolutely everyone is talking about the brand spanking new £110,000 SNP motorhome.

These things are like gold dust since Covid, with waiting lists of 18 months or more. They are also considered to be the only way to properly tour the Highlands, although admittedly they aren’t received warmly by many locals, more of which later.

Let me first luxuriate for a moment in a refurbished Smove, similar in age to the one seized by Scottish police. It’s one of several being sold through Erwin Hymer Centre, the model itself having been discontinued now the even more wondrous-and-pricey iSmove has taken its place.

Me, I’m perfectly happy with the original. Having admired the beautifully sprung mattress, the space-saving loo and its ambient lighting, I’m quite the convert to the German-built Niesmann+ Bischof pleasure wagon.

Ironically, the company slogan is “breaking all the rules”. Make of that what you will. But it is the job of the police to establish any wrongdoing, once they’ve finished showering and playing with the flyscreen roller blind.

It’s said that all political careers end in failure and if we’re lucky, there’s a random comedy element by way of a leaving gift to voters. Nicola Sturgeon’s career epitaph could be written on the side of a stationary deluxe motorhome.

It seems the vehicle was bankrolled by party funds during Covid and was due to be deployed in the spring 2021 Holyrood election campaign, as staff would be able to sleep on board, bypassing the need for hotels and minimising social mixing.

But after Sturgeon herself relaxed the regulations, it was never put into service. Instead, it was parked on her nonagenarian mother-in-law’s drive in Dunfermline. For two years. Neighbours say it never moved. Humza Yousaf, the new First Minister, says he was only told when he became leader. But then it became the focus of a police investigation earlier this month, whereupon police loaded it up on a truck and took it away. They arrested the former First Minister’s husband, Peter Murrell, who recently stepped down as SNP chief executive, and took him away. He was released without charge after 11 hours.

Of the embattled SNP bus there is still nary a sign. That’s the real worry, needless to say, along with who gets first dibs if the police do release it.

“The sight of a luxury motorhome being seized as part of the investigation into the murkiness surrounding the SNP’s finances was like something dreamt up by TV scriptwriters,” is the verdict of Craig Hoy MSP, the Scottish Conservative chairman.

“It would be funny if there weren’t such serious questions for Ms Sturgeon and her husband Mr Murrell, to answer in relation to it.”

Three cheers then for ambient lighting. Besides, she’d probably have to get a licence upgrade; you need a C1 to drive some of these behemoths.

Even if Sturgeon rides shotgun, the obvious candidate for any Thelma and Louise road trip would be her right-hand woman and loyal aide of 20 years, Liz Lloyd – who quit the SNP last month amid controversy. Obviously.

Truthfully, it’s hard to keep track with all the comings and goings; the SNP’s head of communications also resigned around the same time after denying a (bleeding obvious) fall in membership figures. Oh and the party auditors jumped ship last year. No wonder it’s the immobile motor home that’s drawing all the fire; rather like the SNP, it’s going nowhere.

Which is a great shame; these vehicles are in huge demand for the North Coast 500, a 516-mile epic road trip that starts and ends in Inverness and takes in the glorious Highland coastline via sweeping, single track road.

It’s indisputably splendid but as the route was only invented as a marketing concept in 2015, facilities (accommodation
and comfort stops) are in short supply – motorhomes circumvent both issues. Locals, however, are left struggling with traffic queues, mess and inconsiderate parking; motorhome tyres have been slashed and windscreens pelted with eggs
and yoghurt.

Sutherland councillor Kirsteen Currie is under no illusions about the decidedly mixed blessing of motorhome tourism. “We have overflowing bins when it’s only May,” she told a newspaper. “The grass around parking places is burned by the chemicals from campervan cleaning systems. I’m sick of seeing human faeces at the side of the road.”

Will Nicola Sturgeon end her days roaming the Cairngorms with her husband crying Freedom from behind the wheel of the battle bus that never was? Who knows, but some would argue they’ve already done more than their fair share of dumping on Scotland.

Fold-down taps and an ‘intelligent bathroom’... but is it worth the money?

The SNP may not have the best record in government – Scotland’s budget deficit is £1,300 higher per person than the rest of the UK, drug deaths are rocketing and it has the worst health inequalities in western, central (and increasingly eastern) Europe.

But when it comes to choosing their Covid battle bus to fight an election only the best would do. The Niesmann+Bischoff brand is a classy, reliable and high-quality choice, which has the added benefit of not being English.

The Smove range – by no means the most expensive – is no longer in production, having been overtaken by the iSmove. But, happily, it retains value to an almost unheard of degree; the 2020 Smove I tested was built around the same time as the £110,000 SNP model and had a price tag of £105,995.

“Because there are such long waiting lists for the new versions there’s a real demand for refurbished models,” explains Reece Penn, handover co-ordinator at UK stockist Erwin Hymer Centre. “Sales remain very strong.”

Anyone buying new can specify everything from trims to upholstery; the Grand Cru No 1 could pass for tartan albeit with a distinct and mildly troubling Burberry vibe. Saltires will not be provided, but there’s surely an SNP slush fund for those.

The exterior can be sexed up too, at extra cost; the brochure recommends a Frozen Red Metallic finish which would put the wind up any stray Cheviots or Highland cattle clogging up the passing places.

Other accents include Champagne, Lava Orange and Carbon, which is a bit ironic given the iSmove – the improved iteration – only manages 26-30 miles per gallon according to caravanguard.co.uk, putting it in the same ballpark as a gas-guzzling Land Rover Discovery.

This, from a party with a virtue-signalling transport policy that states “we will reduce the use of cars – measured as ‘car kilometres’ – by 20 per cent by 2030” and “we will remove the majority of fossil fuel buses from public transport in Scotland by 2023”.

But nobody invests £110,000 of someone or other’s money in a motorhome for the sake of the planet. It’s the shiny bits and bobs that secure the sale.

I know I should be impressed by the Smove’s 30 per-cent higher torsional stiffness but my favourite gadget by far was the fold-down tap (yes, really) followed by the “intelligent bathroom” featuring a retractable loo and a sink that disappears into the wall.

The capacious boot is called “the rear garage”, there’s underfloor heating, an electric skylight and for some reason the dashboard is called the “cockpit”. Still, when it’s been paid for by Indyref 2 (aka the pretendyref that never happened) donations, made in good faith, better cockpit than conspiracy.