Viv Kershaw's Last Camper Van Weekenders
“After forty-four years, my hands won’t stay still any more.” — Viv (71) is selling her last hand-quilted camper van bags at a special price. When the shelf is empty, that’s the end of them.
23 September 2026
Vivien Kershaw is seventy-one. For forty-four years she has sewn the same bag by hand, in a small room in her cottage in Hebden Bridge, Yorkshire. Every one has an old camper van stitched on the front. Now she has to stop. What’s left on her shelves is the last of the Hippie Bus Weekender.
“Everybody thinks it’s the eyes. It isn’t.”
Viv’s workroom is in an old weaver’s cottage, built in 1823. It has one long, low window that lets in lots of light. That’s where she sews.
The walls are full of cotton in orange, turquoise and lavender. At the far end are four shelves of finished bags. One shelf is already half empty.
“My eyes are fine. Everybody thinks it’ll be the eyes. It isn’t.”
The problem is her hands. Around 2020, her right hand started to shake. By 2024, both hands did. Her doctor in Halifax called it essential tremor. It doesn’t get better.
“I can still lift a full kettle,” she says. “But I can’t hold a needle still any more. Every stitch has to be even. Mine aren’t now.”
Forty-four years, 7,900 bags, and one van that never came home
Why is there a camper van on every bag? The answer goes back to 1974.
Viv was eighteen. Together with a friend, she bought an old 1962 camper van that used to deliver vegetables. They put a mattress in the back and set off.
They drove from England towards India, like lots of young people did back then. Through Europe, through Turkey, through Iran and into Afghanistan.
In Kabul, Viv found a street full of hand-sewn coats and bags. She had never seen anything like it.
“I sat in one shop for two weeks and watched a man sew. He let me stay because I kept buying tea.”
Then the van broke down in Kandahar. It couldn’t be fixed. They sold it on the spot and carried on by bus.
In Delhi, a woman at a market showed Viv a simple hand stitch. It’s called kantha. Women in India have used it for hundreds of years.
Viv has used that stitch ever since.
She came home in 1975 with a bag full of fabric and one single photo of the van.
In 1982 she bought a second-hand sewing machine and started sewing for her neighbours. In 1986 she made a bag for her sister. On the front she stitched the old van — exactly as it looked in the photo.
By the end of that summer, four of her sister’s friends wanted one too.
“I didn’t design it. I just wanted to look at my van again. Every bag since has had that same van on it.”
Since then, Viv has made 7,900 of these bags. All by hand. No two exactly the same.
What makes Viv’s bags different
Pick one up and you feel it straight away. It’s solid, but soft. The colours aren’t printed on. They are layers of real fabric, sewn on by hand.
“I never trace it and I never use a computer,” Viv says. “Sometimes a flower comes out a bit bigger. That’s not a mistake. That’s how you know a person made it.”
Here’s what you get:
Quilted by hand. The whole bag is stitched by hand with the stitch Viv learned in Delhi. One bag takes about twelve hours. It keeps its shape, even when it’s packed full.
The van from the photo. Cut out and sewn on piece by piece: peace signs for wheels, two round headlights, sunflowers on the roof.
Colours from the road. Orange, turquoise and deep blue — the colours Viv saw on her trip in 1974.
Comfortable handles. Padded all the way along, so they don’t dig into your hand when the bag is full.
Just the right size. 45 × 23 × 25 cm, about 22 litres, 820 grams. Enough for a weekend away. Fits in the boot, and as a cabin bag on most UK flights.
Numbered by hand. Every bag has a numbered tag inside. Viv writes each number in a notebook she started in 1982. The last number is 7,900.
Check availability →
“One of mine from 2004 still goes to the Hebrides every summer”
What Viv is proudest of is how long her bags last.
“A woman in Ilkley bought one in 2004,” she says. “Her daughter has it now and takes it on holiday every summer. Twenty-two years. It’s needed one new zip pull. That’s all.”
A few years ago, a customer sent Viv a postcard from Kathmandu — the city where Viv’s own trip ended in 1975.
“Dear Viv — I brought it to where your trip ended. It’s been over the Himalayas on a bus and it still looks better than I do.”
— Kathmandu, 2015
Viv keeps it above her sewing machine, next to the photo of the van.
Five designs, one journey — and then the shelves are bare
There are five designs, each with its own picture: Flower Power Caravan, Sunset Strummer, Stay Wild Forest, Coastal Surfer Camper and Cherry Blossom Glamping.
“People ask where I get the colours,” Viv says. “I saw them once, a long time ago. I’ve been sewing them ever since.”
The last batch — and why there won’t be another
For thirty years, Viv sold her bags in three shops in Yorkshire and at craft fairs. There was always a waiting list.
In 2023 she had to stop. She couldn’t promise delivery dates any more. She closed the waiting list — with names still on it.
“That’s the part I still think about. Some people had waited two years.”
So Viv made one last decision. She used the time her hands had left to make one final batch, all at once. That’s what is on the shelves now.
There won’t be any more. Her son is a teacher. Nobody else wants to sit for twelve hours to make one bag.
“I’d rather finish with a full shelf than stop halfway through a bag.”
Final collection →
What buyers say about the Hippie Bus Weekender
Sue T., 58, Shrewsbury
“People keep asking me about it. Twice on the train platform, once in a car park in Wales. It’s the only bag I’ve owned that people want to touch.”
Denise M., 63, Stirling
“I bought it because it looked lovely. What surprised me was how well it’s made. Every stitch is where it should be.”
Angela H., 55, Norwich
“A present to myself for my fifty-fifth. It’s been on three weekends in Northumberland and a week in Ireland, and it still looks new.”
Where can you buy Viv’s bags?
The bags are sold through Backroad Goods. Viv’s granddaughter Nell, who is twenty-five, runs it for her.
“Nell does everything,” Viv says. “She takes the photos, packs the bags and takes them to the post office. I just sew.”
One warning: copies of these bags have started to appear on big online marketplaces. They may look similar in photos. But they aren’t made by Viv, and they don’t have her numbered tag inside.
When the last one goes, that’s it
Since the special price started, the bags are going faster than Nell expected.
UPDATE:
“We’ve sold more this week than in the whole of last month. There’s no restock. When the shelf is empty, that’s the end.”
— Nell Kershaw, Backroad Goods
Final collection →
Common questions
Where can I get one?
Only through Backroad Goods, the shop Nell runs for her grandmother. Not on Amazon, and not in any shop.
How long will they be available?
Until this last batch is gone. There won’t be another one.
Can I try one without any risk?
Yes. There’s a 90-day money-back guarantee, no questions asked. If it isn’t right, email info@backroad-goods.com and send it back.
How do I look after it?
Wipe it with cool water and a little mild soap. Let it dry flat, out of the sun. Don’t put it in the washing machine. Looked after like this, it will last for many years.
The bottom line
This bag has a real van on it.
Viv drove that van towards India when she was eighteen. It broke down in Afghanistan in 1974 and never came home. She has sewn it onto every bag since 1986, from one old photo — because she never stopped missing it.
You get a bag that’s made to last. And you get a piece of one woman’s life’s work — ready for your next weekend away.
Thank you, Viv.
Viv’s personal 90-day money-back guarantee
Viv asked for one thing: a 90-day money-back guarantee, no questions asked.
“I want them used, not collected,” she says. “If it’s not for you, send it back. I just want it out there being used.”
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What people are saying online
Fiona G., Bristol
“I went to Hebden Bridge in the spring and looked through her window. Fabric everywhere, bags up to the ceiling. I bought two — one for me, one for my sister’s sixtieth.”
Jacqui R., Newcastle
“I took mine to Lisbon last month and got stopped three times in one day. A woman outside a café wanted to buy it off me!”
Helen P., Cardiff
“Finally a weekend bag that doesn’t look like it came from the supermarket. Four years old, eleven trips, still looks new. If you can still get one, get one.”
The last of Viv’s bags →