A Lavish Encounter with a Bowlus Volterra Luxury Travel Trailer

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We rounded the corner and there it was. Behold, the Bowlus Volterra in all its polished glory beckoned us, lowly us, for a one-night stay. We politely obliged and settled in for the night, trying to act like staying in a $310,000 luxury travel trailer was normal, perfectly normal. We promptly excused ourselves to go buy some lotto tickets, promising that if we won the jackpot, the first thing we would buy was a Bowlus Volterra. We meant it.

The Bowlus Volterra travel trailer is all-electric, combining retro looks with state-of-the-art technology. It has an induction cooktop, Starlink high-speed satellite internet, a hydronic heating system, an AeroSolar setup, 17 kWh of lithium batteries, a 3,000 W inverter, over-the-air monitoring, a backup camera, and much more.

Unlike the Airstream and other travel trailers, the Bowlus has a front door. Literally. The aluminum door, a marvel in itself and complete with a house-like doorknob, is located at the front of the trailer instead of the side. Therefore, the tongue serves as a porch area. It's quite fascinating.

Whereas the standard travel trailer literally resembles a box on wheels, the Bowlus doesn't have those stark, perpendicular edges that make for simpler construction. Like a purposely designed airplane fuselage, it's smooth and curvy in all the right places—which is fitting, considering original designer Hawley Bowlus was involved in building the infamous "Spirit of St. Louis" aircraft. Like the shape of a falling raindrop, the Bowlus exude aerodynamics. You can't help but marvel at the streamline, futuristically retro shape of the original aluminum riveted travel trailer. (Yes, it pre-dates the Airstream by just a little bit.) Speaking of rivets—the aircraft-grade aluminum shell of a Bowlus has over 5,000 rivets.

As indicated by the outside, the inside feels like you're in an airplane, minus any overhead luggage compartments. Combined with the small, overhead ceiling vents every few feet, it reminds us of a submarine (if we're going by Disneyland experience, since, you know, most of us actually aren't real familiar with submarine interiors). Anyway, it feels like you're in a round tube. From the inside, you can really appreciate that all elements have to adhere to this roundness—the glass and the wood paneling, for example, share in the curvature. Even the most artistically impaired can attest that curves are harder to deal with than straight lines.

In shape and appearance, the tapered rear feels like you're in an upscale yet upside down canoe—again, as if any of us actually know what it's like to be in a capsized canoe. But rather than frantically treading water and gathering courage to exit the beautifully sculpted canoe, you're content. This is the sleeping quarters, after all.

Your head goes at the wide end, with your feet trailing to the narrow end. That means you get into bed and then turn around to sleep. You can nudge up against the curved wall, which is kind of unusual for sleeping. In case you were wondering, a standard rectangular mattress isn't going to work for this rather triangular setup, consisting of a combination of several mattresses. This setup must be a PITA when it comes to affixing sheets. Again, the whole thing's curvy rather than square. (The interior doors are square, though, because they have enough built-in clearance at the top, a standard practice for travel trailers.)

The (open) bathroom door spans the hall and doubles as a bedroom door, creating a true shut-door bedroom experience that blocks out any nighttime distractions. Opening the shower door opposite the bathroom door creates a sealed-off bathroom, shower, and sink in between the bedroom and living quarters. Or, shutting the bathroom door itself creates a small private space. The shower, across the hall from the toilet, has teak seating and flooring. There are two wardrobes (for less fighting) with bars to hang clothes.

The living quarters and the kitchen area are combined and make up the bulk of the interior. There's a couch on one side and a table on the other, with cool soft-close drawers beneath both. We could just open and close those drawers all day long. Two overhead skylights and large side windows make the interior feel connected to nature, the natural sunlight eliminating any feelings of claustrophobia. The kitchen, located at the front, has an induction cooktop and fridge on one side and a microwave and little sink on the other. It's not the roomiest kitchen of course, but it feels and looks unlike any other travel trailer kitchen. Oh, and the floors are heated.

The double whammy to its aerodynamics is its weight. At 3,250 pounds, the single-axle Bowlus can be towed by just about anything. (We did not verify this weight or what it actually weighed once loaded, but the reported figure is light.) The pictures might not show it, but the Bowlus is relatively narrow, meaning the fuselage shouldn't fully obstruct rearward vision when towing. If you've ever towed a wide, tall box, you know what it's like to not see a dang thing beside the front of the trailer.

Full disclosure: We did not actually take the Bowlus into the wild on a camping trip. But after spending just a few refreshing hours in its upscale belly, we could imagine that truly recreating in a Bowlus would be like wearing your pure white wedding dress in the muddy backwoods and expecting it to remain spotless. Not gonna happen. To some degree, dirt's gonna happen, and you're gonna have to get over the notion of perfection. If you use it at all—and definitely if you bring your pooch along, which Bowlus encourages but we honestly can't fathom—you'll have to work to make it perfect again, both inside and outside.

For example, even drips from washing your hands leave water spots on the aluminum and stainless steel surfaces. Grimy hands will leave smudges. As with any tight quarters, you'll need to move slowly and deliberately to prevent damaging the walls and floor with swinging bags and flailing body parts. The Bowlus interior would appreciate consistent cleanup (after all, tripping and falling would be bad for the Bowlus and the body), minimalistic packing (there's not an overabundance of storage, especially considering there's no overhead storage), and a generous dose of respect (it's like being in a really, really fancy house). After the first glass of red wine, it might be a good idea to move outside, if you know what we mean.

As for the aluminum shell, don't park under sappy trees. Bowlus walks owners through the steps of how to keep the Bowlus blindingly shiny, but as we see it, if you can afford a Bowlus Volterra, you can afford to have someone polish it (and those 5,000 rivets) on the regular.

As I stared at the interior of the Bowlus, alone in my own thoughts in the cool of the morning, trying to understand who would buy this and if it was practical and if it was worth it and if you'd actually go camping and so on, something popped into my mind that fully satisfied all my ponderings. (To my credit, I thought of it before seeing the exact same verbiage on the Bowlus website.) This was a work of art, and what I was doing—just staring at its lines and curves and colors—was exactly what I was supposed to be doing. From its etched placards to La Cumbre interior color palette, the Bowlus was built to be seen.

Therefore, the particular logistics of how one chooses to use it are inconsequential, with no right or wrong answers. Like all fine art, there's room for interpretation and creativity, room for bending the rules or strictly adhering to them. Every owner is going to relate to his or her Bowlus in a unique, personal way, and all ways are acceptable. One owner may see an adventure travel trailer that's fit for traveling the country and taking on some dings here and there. Another may see it as something to be protected and cherished, nestled safely in a climate-controlled environment.

Bowlus wouldn't tell us how many trailers it has sold, but like any premium product, it's bound to be a relatively low number. You would be hard-pressed to find a Bowlus for sale, and you definitely won't find one on a dealer lot. Truthfully, you'll probably never see one on the road, at a campsite, or anywhere; we certainly never have. Your likely only experience with one will be online.

Interestingly, many Bowlus owners buy them sight-unseen, having never actually seen one in real life. They are hand-made to order, and the process of sifting through 56 million possible interior color and material combinations takes place directly between Bowlus and the owner. Owners pay for artistic craftsmanship and for the experience of making the creation come to life. It's a journey few pocketbooks can afford, but experiencing it momentarily made me feel, for just a night, like that person. And I promise I would have been that person, had I actually hit the jackpot.