I booked an Airbnb in Folkestone for New Year holiday week. We arrived on Boxing Day and immediately I felt this wasn’t going to go well; the place looked tatty and the kitchen cupboards were bare. There was no welcome pack or explanation of anything. The kids couldn’t find the wifi.
The front room was a horror show; it contained a dreadful sofa bed with enough room for three people and that was it – no other furniture in the room. There was a tiny electric heater and a wood burning stove; at least excited about burning wood, we set out to make a fire. There was a basket with wood. We put a plank on that nearly killed us as it contained toxic materials. We are not wood burning stove users usually; we had to open all the doors and windows and start again.
The morning brought the full horror of the house: frayed curtains, stained carpets, cold, awful furniture, signs of people trying to break in – just horrendous. The host came the following day after I had messaged him. He was acting weird, called me a liar, and said I had too high standards. However, he was busying himself with all the points I had brought up in my communications with him.
Little did I know of the horror of dealing with Airbnb; he knew all too well what he was doing. We left after three days and I tried to get my money back. Dealing with Airbnb has been just awful – I can’t even start to explain it; it has made me suicidal.
I will never use Airbnb again… never ever ever ever. The host was allowed to call me a liar and I’m £1000 out of pocket. I’m going to tweet their help page for the rest of my life.