Welcome to my First-Ever Airbnb Nightmare
It was bound to happen at some point. Whether you love reading about my travels or just enjoy a bit of delicious schadenfraude, this one’s for you.
Perhaps “nightmare” is a bit much. At least we weren’t robbed, assaulted or left without a place at all. Still, it’s stressful as hell to arrive in a place and realize things are not as they appeared.
We’ve had a good, long run, Airbnb and me. It’s how I stayed right in the middle of the action for Carnaval in Quebec City with my boys in 2018 and how I created a home base for exploring Florence, Italy, with friends last year.
There’s no way I could have afforded to visit Turks & Caicos for a self-imposed writing retreat were it not for my homestay with Betty, a lovely local woman who shared her granny flat and lent me her car for groceries. There’s little available on the island outside of $600+ per night luxury hotels, and that wasn’t in the budget.
I like Airbnb’s origins as a coliving and homestay site. But like many others, I struggle with the ethics of what it’s become. And so I try to avoid listings that look like ghost hotels, and carefully sift through photos and reviews in search of places that actually feel like home.
This latest one… was not that.
Don’t worry, we’re not sleeping on the streets. Even though my beloved World Nomads travel insurance doesn’t have coverage for “host is a lying liar,” Airbnb (somewhat surprisingly, given the stories I’ve heard) got us sorted.
Whether you love reading about my travels or just enjoy a bit of delicious schadenfraude, this one’s for you.