A Family of Eight Turned a Double-Decker Tour Bus Into Home

Two stories, two bathrooms, and a rooftop deck you can throw a movie night on. It’s big, it’s scrappy in places, and it works because they use every inch.

You Step In and It’s a Cockpit-Office Mashup

Right inside the front door, the driver’s seat becomes a home office. Dual monitors pop onto a slim desk, GPS gear tucked up front, and the whole nose of the bus turns into a work bay with pedals under the desk. It’s literally the cockpit, just multitasking.

A Farmhouse Kitchen Tucked Into a Bus Lane

Mid-bus, the kitchen splits down the aisle: fridge on one wall, freezer facing it, so cold stuff is a quick grab either way. The cabinetry is all farmhouse style, pale and clean, with a long countertop and deep drawers below.

On the opposite side: a chunky 30-inch sink with a fitted cutting board and drying rack, plus a two-burner induction stove and an oven. No propane lines in here—everything’s electric—and a bit of open shelving keeps the working bits close.

Windows for Days and a Table That Hides

Behind the kitchen is a wall of windows, huge panes that make the bus feel like a moving sunroom. The seatbacks fold up and snap into a dining table—kind of a magic trick—so the evening meal just appears out of benches.

Floor-to-ceiling pantry cubbies take over one side, stuffed with cereal, snacks, and the kind of dry goods that feed a crowd. Up high, a pair of ceiling units handle the air—one for drive days, one for when they’re parked—tucked into a slim soffit line.

Tiny Bathroom, Big Hack

Downstairs bathroom at the back: compact and practical. The toilet sits low because it has to clear the access panels, and a macerator sends everything uphill to the black tank. Small sink, tight footprint, and it’s all business.

The Stairwell Hides a Real Shower

Halfway up the stairs, a full-size shower lives where you wouldn’t expect. They cut into the old storage bay to steal height, so the showerhead actually sits above a tall person—no hunching. The door slides out of the way and disappears when you’re in.

The walls are cedar—oiled, warm, and it smells like a sauna. It’s the one place on board that feels like a cabin, not a vehicle.

Laundry Lives Up Here (With a Vacuum Slot for Crumbs)

At the top of the stairs: a ventless washer/dryer combo tucked into a cabinet. Smaller drum than a house unit, but the trade-off is space—they just let it run and go do life.

Right under it is the slick part: a built-in Sweepo Vac. Crumbs and grit get brushed toward the toe-kick, hit the button, whoosh, crisis over—no dumping dirt down the stairs.

A Row of Bunks and a Mini Bathroom

Past the laundry, bunks line the wall—RV twins in a neat row with little shelf cubbies at each kid’s feet. Only one bunk has a window, on purpose, so the rest feel like cozy little train compartments.

There’s a tiny upstairs bathroom right in their zone—smaller than the one below, but it keeps bedtime traffic jam-free.

At the very back: a single reading chair where bedtime stories happen, flanked by slim closets. Hooks everywhere, towels stacked, kid stuff corralled as best it can be when there are six of them.

Schoolroom, Game Cabinet, and the Hot Upstairs

Moving forward again, a little lounge opens up. Bench seats flip into a table like downstairs, and the cavities underneath hide homeschool supplies on one side and board games on the other.

A mini split perches up front to fight the heat—upstairs gets toasty—and honestly, you can tell it’s doing its best. It’s a long, shallow space up here with a lower ceiling, so airflow matters.

By Day: Play Zone. By Night: The Parents’ Bed

Front of the upper deck is all theirs—until bedtime. A king bed folds out at night with headboard and footboard; during the day it tucks away so the kids can spread out toys in the same footprint.

There’s a dresser up front and the toy stash is obvious—bright bins, a Nerf blaster peeking out like it’s on guard duty. It’s the one area that says “family room” before it says “bedroom.”

Rooftop Hangout at 13 and a Half Feet

Up the ladder to the roof deck—once the safety rails go up, it becomes an outdoor living room with a broad view. When they travel, the rails fold flat so the whole rig rides around 13.5 feet tall.

Movie nights happen up here. Hammocks sling between the rails; those funny tripod-ish outdoor chairs scatter around; it turns into a breezy, private patio.

Four big solar panels sit fore and aft, each 355 watts, soaking up sun while the kids lounge a few feet away. The panels bracket the deck like shiny bookends.

Underfoot is adhesive boat decking—faux wood, but grippy and slightly squishy. Way safer than bare fiberglass, and thin enough not to mess with clearances.

The rails themselves ride on gas shocks and pin into place, making a clear “do not cross” lane in front and back. Smart boundary for small feet who like to roam.

Big Bus, Bigger Tires

Outside, the bus still wears a plain gray wrap that’s due for a do-over, but the new shoes are the star—eight fresh tires all around. Not cheap, but you can see why that was priority number one.

Front and rear axles match; the middle drive tires are a different brand. They already checked the axle weights—47,000 pounds give or take—and sized everything to handle it.

All the Guts Live in the Belly

Open the side bays and it’s the utility zone: an outdoor shower head tucked behind a small door, and the port for the black tank is right there for clean, quick hookups. The rest is cavernous storage for travel gear.

Inside that same belly space are the water tanks in a neat stack: black up high (about 70 gallons), fresh and gray at 75 each. Enough to keep a family of eight rolling if hookups aren’t handy.

There’s a 166-gallon diesel tank onboard too, and the math pencils out around six and a half miles per gallon on a calm day. It’s a brick, but a determined one.

Battery Bank and Hot Water Stuff

On the power side: eight lithium batteries from Lion Energy and a 6,000-watt inverter, wired like a clean little data center. A backup generator rides along but apparently just for peace of mind.

Water hookups live here too, plus a 20-gallon residential water heater so showers feel like real showers. All the big-house comforts, just rearranged to fit in the bays.