In general, we’re fans of Airbnb… well the good ones and the concept.

- Having your own kitchen: tick.
- Having somewhere for a longer stay where you don’t have to look at the hotel receptionist for the 10th day in a row (and she clearly thinks you’re taking up residence): tick.
- Being able to shout through the walls to each other because you actually have more than one room: tick.

Overall Airbnb has been a good thing for us, especially as we have now been on the road for nearly two years. We’ve saved money, had some space, and could feel a bit more at home at points.

However, not all Airbnbs are created equal. When you have something which isn’t really regulated, you can get some pretty misleading listings. Until this one, the worst we’d had were a few (still great) places in New Zealand being liberal with the term “kitchen”. Those kiwis are clearly stuck in their student days as a kettle and microwave does not a kitchen make.

However, the worst Airbnb we ever stayed in was on a trip to a desert in the Middle East. This place really took the biscuit.

Sidenote: I know what you’re thinking – “why would you go for an Airbnb in the middle of the desert? Wouldn’t that be a pretty strange thing to do?”. Turns out that you dear reader, are indeed correct. In hindsight it wasn’t the best idea!

However, we were probably too eager for this place to be good and wanted a different experience to the usual hotel stays. The listing we chose was fairly new, but had five positive reviews (there really isn’t much choice where we were going!).

The reviews all talked of a generous host, and a wonderful family with cute kids. That seemed promising. After all you can always trust the internet.

It was only afterwards that we realized no one actually talked about the property or the room they stayed in.

The Airbnb with no bed

Even the start was weird. As soon as we booked the phone calls started. Nothing was to be done on email, it had to be in a phone call. I get it - we’re in a foreign country and most people in the Middle East will learn to speak English but not write as most of the time you don’t need it. But we were getting daily phone calls to work out our arrival! It was full on already.

A few days later, we turned up and met our host out of town. It felt more like the start of a drug deal than arriving at an Airbnb!

The host instructed us to park our car at some random patch of dirt. and then picked us up and drove round some back roads before arriving at his place. After passing derelict streets with stray dogs, trash everywhere and graffiti we weren’t feeling too optimistic.

After walking in we were shown to ‘our room’. Our room seemed to be a general living area (although separate from the main family home) with lots of low seating and not a bed in sight.

Now this was the Middle East, so maybe a mattress on the floor might have been expected as opposed to a bed. Sadly, this is probably where it peaked.

The host

As we sat down, the host came in. We were expecting the usual small talk: “where are you from?”; “where have you been so far?”; “what do you do for a job?”.

First he started with “so do you want to book a tour?”. We’d already booked a hiking tour with a different company (which also went wrong but that’s another story). It was clear that the gig was that you weren’t just meant to stay here: you were meant to book his tour. He wasn’t happy - the hard sell continued until he relented when we refused for the tenth time. Suddenly all pleasantries disappeared.

Then he switched his attention to the next pressing issue: his PayPal account!

Yes, I was now being recruited as his financial advisor. For all his bookings, Airbnb had been paying into his PayPal and the money stayed there. At the first sight of a westerner, he clearly assumed that I was a banking genius.

Fumbling my way around (and trying my best to be polite - British people really struggle with saying no to anything) the first problem was that he didn’t know any of his bank details.

The second problem was he kept guessing said bank details incorrectly and insisting everything else was wrong. The third problem was that everything was in Arabic. The fourth problem was, I had no idea about anything he was talking about.

He kept talking about conversations with his account rep as if I was in the meeting and that I worked at Airbnb!

The British awkwardness was at sky-high levels and I tried to work it out. I used Google Translate, entered every number I could see, I searched for every conceivable answer. An hour later - yes, seriously 1 HOUR - and with no success. The host left in a mood.

This left us with a pretty weird and stressful start to our stay, sitting on their living room floor on the foam cushions (that were covered in sand), knowing this would be our bed for the night.

We looked at each other and thought what on earth is this?

The grand tour

Moments later the host returned, slightly calmer and told us he would give us the grand tour - the host shows you round, you politely agree everything is nice and then you part ways.

It’s like when the waiter lets you taste the wine at dinner - has anyone ever actually said “no, that’s foul. Bring another!”. Nope, you nod and smile, no matter what you’ve been served.

However, this was the Airbnb from hell, so the host started with the sand covered living room. Little did we know this was the luxurious part before we got to the bathroom.

I don’t think we’ll ever forget this one. It started with him holding up a sink… Yep, he held the sink in his hand that should have been plumbed in and said “Sorry, the sink is broken”. So no running water.

Then there was the squat toilet. This isn’t unusual, we’ve seen plenty, but none where the squat toilet was under the shower.

You can only imagine the architect thought this was a genius idea, having the hole in the ground double up as a drain for the shower. The thought of wafting sewage while you showered was enough to make us wretch.

What made it worse was that we only discovered the true horror of what no sink meant when it came to cleaning teeth. After going to buy a bottle of water I realized the only place to spit after cleaning was the squat toilet.

I hope that is the closest my head ever has to come to a squat toilet for the rest of my life!

Somebody get us out of here!

By now its 10PM. We’d retreated to our “room”, and then heard the host suddenly set up a few things in the courtyard. I thought this is where things could improve: our host was inviting the family and friends around, and we may get a glimpse of authentic Bedouin culture away from the tourist staged events.

Nope, instead a massive flat screen tv was set up and blared out a Jordanian soap opera until after midnight, millimetres from where our heads were. I guess all they wanted to do is watch trashy tv after a long day like everyone else! Fair enough but not quite what we had envisaged.

I don’t know how I still had any optimism left but by the time it came to sleeping I thought we might be given a sheet to put over the foam cushions - otherwise known as our bed for the night. But nothing came: no sheets, pillows, blankets or anything that resembled a bed. It was just the sandy cushions on the floor.

Finished by the mossies

The other thing that made the night just a little more intolerable was the mosquitos. Jordanian mossies were a special kind of torture.

They loved nothing more than buzzing in your ear waking you up from a fitful dose, just to let you know you were about to be eaten alive. Add to that copious amounts of flies that particularly enjoyed resting on your lips and this was one of the worst nights sleep of our lives.

Let’s just say we’ve never been more happy to leave a place.

It taught us a lot about what to look for in an Airbnb! Here’s a few tips to help with your search.

Things to look out for when booking an Airbnb:

Even if the reviews at first glance look good, try and read between the lines. If all the reviews are focused on how nice the hosts children are or how great the breakfast was but speak nothing at all of the actual room, AVOID, AVOID, AVOID.
If you can’t see photos of both the bedroom and bathroom. Avoid.
Always scrutinise the detail, if it says kitchen, scroll down and see if they have mentioned what is in it. This one believed cushions on the floor be an acceptable bed, but we’ve also seen a sink and microwave being called a kitchen and a room in a house being called a “private apartment”. Often reviewers will mention these things too. Check photos and e-mail the host. They will normally fess up.
If you’re renting a place with more than one room is there a picture of the second one? If not check the bed figurations that all Airbnbs list. On a recent trip our second bedroom just had children’s camp beds which we hung off the end of, and many claim that a sofa bed is a second bedroom!
Private bathrooms are another classic that sometimes goes wrong. It might not be the ensuite you’ve assumed, it might just be a bathroom in a completely different building that supposedly “no one else uses while you’re there”.
That’s fine if you’re happy with that, but not everyone is imagining that it’s not in their actual room. We once had one where we had to walk through the family garage and garden before arriving at our private bathroom!