Staying Overnight in an Airstream Tiny House

For our Kansas City weekend getaway, Susan booked a night in an Airstream trailer that had been converted to a permanent residence and being advertised as an “AirBnB tiny house experience.” Susan and I are always up for a fun adventure, and we were both excited to spend a night in this Airstream-turned-rental.

The drive to the property seemed sketchy. It was located near the end of an alley and surrounded by an industrial solid metal fence. The outside looked more like a maximum security prison than a weekend getaway, but once we were inside the view changed. Outside the Airstream was a large wooden deck with multiple chairs, couches, and tables. To the left of the camper was an outdoor grill, and directly in front of it was a hot tub built for two. That tall, metal fence provided plenty of shade and privacy.

The interior is simple to describe. Up front was a couch, in the back was a queen-sized bed, and the middle of the camper was split into thirds. From the front, the right third was a kitchenette, the middle third was an aisle, and the left third was the bathroom.

In the above picture, which I snapped while standing in front of the couch, you can see the back half of the trailer. By the way, that’s not a recliner Susan is lounging in. That’s the shower. (Yeah, we didn’t use it.)

The good news is, the Airstream did have a full-sized toilet installed. The bad news was, neither one of us could use it. As you can see, the left hand side pressed up against the drywall, and the space between the toilet and the front wall wasn’t big enough for my foot, much less anything else. This ultimately led to a fun game of “how do you think the bathroom is going to be at this place?” at every single place we visited over the weekend.

Finally, here the two of us are relaxing on the couch in the front of the Airstream. And by relaxing I mean I was stuck, as the couch was 6″ off the ground and there was no way I could get up.

For what it was, the interior was very functional (sans the toilet). There were two sinks, a small oven, and even a dishwasher. The air conditioner almost froze us out, and the bed and couch were both very comfortable.

That being said, we quickly learned that to survive in a small space, movements have to be planned. In the morning, I needed to get to the sink, but couldn’t until Susan had moved from the bed to the bathroom — which she couldn’t do until I unhooked my CPAP. Once I was at the sink, Susan was able to move to the couch and get her clothes, at which point I shuffled to the bathroom so she could move to the bed and pack so I could move to the couch to get my clothes. I’ve been referring to the experience as being similar to one of those sliding puzzles, although I just came up with a name for it: the Tiny Tango.

Susan asked me if I could live in the Airstream for a year for one million dollars. I could, although I think we would end up spending a lot of time outside on the deck. Inside the Airstream where was no room for a desk and the couch was too low to accommodate a TV tray, so either I would have to get creative or simply work outside at one of the tables and chairs out there.

Whether or not I could stay there for a year is debatable, but staying there for a single night was a blast!