Hotel Rooms will always be Preferable to Airbnb


I reserved an Airbnb a week in advance for a six-guest stay in an apartment. The host and I talked back and forth and she was very polite. We rolled up around 1:00 AM, drained after our 4.5-hour drive and just ready to get settled in and maybe hit a few bars to get our trip started.

We unlocked the door and walked in to see this very large man on the living room floor about ten feet away from the front door we opened. We all jump back, thinking: “Is this the wrong room? No, it can’t be because the code to unlock it is working.”

The guys went inside to find sections of the living room separated by sheets/curtains and three beds on the floor for us to sleep on. These beds were a curtain away from this random man on the floor. The guys went back in to take pics and videos of this place as proof to send to customer service for a refund. There were even two rooms in the back that had people in them.

I promptly cancelled our Airbnb and immediately called customer service. The customer service rep told me he had to contact the host to get her side of the story. They contacted the host who finally woke up and started freaking out, sending me crazy rude messages. At the point we were all just so done; we just needed somewhere to sleep.

After calling around and driving around until after 5:00 AM we finally found something to accommodate all six of us (thanks to the nice front desk lady at the Comfort Inn). The crazy host kept messaging me until 4:30 AM.

Now, looking at the reservation, it does say a shared room up to eight people. This was my first Airbnb experience to I thought shared meant shared with our guests (since there were six of us). However, we were never informed people would be there at the same time as us a sheet away – scary.

In the end, the host was just as rude to my customer service guy as she was to me which, isn’t going to help her. Hopefully, she is removed from Airbnb. She refused us a full refund but we called and filed a claim with Chase.

P.S: it looked nothing like the pictures. I’m attaching the photos from the website, the guy on the floor, our “room”, and screen shots of this crazy lady going off on me. The door auto locks so we didn’t leave anyone in any type of danger/harm. You can’t break and enter if you were given the gate and door code to get in.

Apartment in Paris: Definitely NOT Calm and Cozy

This is one of those rare Airbnb horror stories that is so wild, it’s hard to believe. Luckily, I have attached the slew of text messages the host exchanged with me as proof. The first thing to note is how misleading the location of this Airbnb is. All the pictures, as well as Franck’s description of the environment, makes it seem like a “calm” and “cozy” apartment in a cute side street. This is far from the truth. Franck’s apartment in Montreuil is in the middle of a GHETTO. The street two steps away from his apartment is LITTERED with destitute African migrants – the majority of whom ask you if you want to buy drugs when you pass by. In addition to this, there’s a very apparent stolen goods market there – people always peddling things in the streets. At night, the place feels very dangerous to walk through – I can’t imagine how it feels for a young woman. If you’re a white European, you feel like a stranger there. I felt like there were nightwalkers as well. There’s NOTHING cozy about this neighborhood. It’s also beyond filthy. That’s just the environment.

The host, Franck, is an entirely different monster. Before I even arrived, Franck send me over 100 WhatsApp messages, most of them having nothing to do with my rental of his Airbnb. He was sending unusual pictures of his friends partying, and implying that I should respond to him ASAP because he might be “too wasted” to let me into his apartment on time if I don’t tell him when I’m arriving. I thought “whatever” at first… maybe he’s too friendly… but that shouldn’t be a problem. I’m one, like most Airbnbers, to just keep to myself. However, the messages kept on coming, long before I even arrived. Most of them were verging into very business personal territory, until finally, at 3 AM one night, the host messaged me with totally inappropriate drunk texts. This made me feel insanely uncomfortable, obviously. I am not homophobic, nor do I have any problem with staying at a gay Airbnb hosts apartment. I simply stop replying politely to the messages and expected he would get the hint.

However, when I arrived, the host’s attitude had completely changed. He appeared angry or upset about my lack of responding to his (literally) 75 texts. I began to feel as though this guy was expecting a “friendly” (quotations relevant) guest but didn’t get what he wanted. The worst thing to come was when I stumbled upon one of his neighbors in the building, who demanded to know who I was. When I told them I was an Airbnb guest, THEY told me Airbnbing in this complex was illegal and that tourists were generally not welcome. NOW I began to be extremely uncomfortable. I decided at first to stay quiet about it and make it through one more night, but after my host sent more passive aggressive messages (totally inappropriate) in regards to demanding to know when I’ll be in and out of the apartment, I spilled the beans. I told him I paid him and I don’t need to talk to him or explain myself period. I want to be by myself and left alone. I also told him I don’t appreciate the constant comings-on, or so they could be interpreted.

Lastly, I said that it was making me uncomfortable being in an illegal Airbnb, especially since the neighbors said that cops have been called in the past regarding this. He told me that it wouldn’t behoove me to leave a bad review of him regarding this, because via Airbnb review policies, I am at bigger risk than he is. One bad review won’t do anything to him, but leaving a bad review of me as a bad guest essentially ruins my chances of Airbnbing. Needless to say, it was a complete clusterf#$k. I left the Airbnb without much of a hassle after that, and told myself I would not leave a bad review and we can just go our separate ways. Two weeks later, the host leaves a completely libelous review of me, way after the period in which I could have left a review for him. He timed it out perfectly. The review was an immature scatological reference that apparently accused me of “not flushing” (it’s the best he could come up with). The irony, of course, being that after all the questionable prescription drugs I found in his apartment, I never even considered using his toilet. (Needless to say, the guy has an open homosexual lifestyle – not that there’s anything wrong with that – but he’s not the clean type).