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The revolting truth about being an AirBnB host - from the bizarre items one man left in a bin to exactly what's lingering on the bedsheets
Visitors often say that my home would not look out of place in an interiors magazine.
Indeed, the beautiful three-bedroom Cotswolds house is my pride and joy – and will eventually be my pension fund.
So you might think I’m utterly mad to let strangers in, leaving me to stay nearby at my mum’s. But the £4,000 a week they pay me via AirBnb sweetens the deal pretty well.
Still, that’s not to say that renting out my home to paying guests doesn’t come with pitfalls.
Like a friend told me four years ago, when I started acting as a ‘host’, if people are paying to stay in my home, they’ll use it as they see fit.
In my experience, guests are either a total dream or a total nightmare.
'Some families are amazing, but safe to say, changing the bedsheets can often be a hair-raising experience. For this, I always wear latex gloves'
I’ve had lovely feedback comments from visitors, exclaiming ‘what a simply wonderful host and a very special home!’ I’m not surprised at all. I like to think I go the extra mile; I do everything from answering the initial inquiry email to welcoming my guests personally. I’m available out of hours for anything they may need, and do the big clean up myself after they’ve left (but more on that later).
So when guests abuse my home, boy do I take it personally. I’m not a swanky business owner with a string of properties to let out: this is my home and my livelihood.
I’ve travelled the world, and whenever I’ve stayed in people’s homes as an AirBnb guest myself I have always treated them respectfully. I’d naively hoped that people would do the same with my house. But I was quickly disabused of that notion.
After one family stayed, I went in to clean and was initially pleased to see my home left in an apparently impeccable state.
That was until I discovered a gruesome colony of bogies that a child had smeared on one of the beds. It had all hardened, and I had to resort to picking it off with my bare hands.
That’s not even the worst of the bodily fluids. Take the man who left all of my hand towels stiff enough to crack with a hammer. They went straight in the bin. And safe to say, changing the bedsheets can often be a hair-raising experience. For this, I always wear latex gloves.
On another occasion the principal bedroom was flooded thanks to the shower room door being left open. The departing guest claimed he’d left the window open and the rain must have got in. The costs involved were removed from the guest’s deposit – when he eventually admitted to it.
One businessman left a pan on in the kitchen and I got called out by neighbours because the smoke alarm was going off.
Some guests are just downright bizarre. I’m thinking of the man who threw out all of his socks and underpants at the end of his stay. I use translucent binbags so I know what’s being consumed in my home, you see. I still have no idea why he did this.
When guests leave, I’m straight in to clean. I do it myself, as it’s too hard to find a professional cleaner on an ad hoc basis. I make sure I’m swift, as a quick check usually means I can spot things that have been left behind before they’ve got too far away.
One guest left a classic car on the driveway after they left. That’s quite a signficant piece of lost property. But when I sheepishly told him that he’d forgotten his vehicle, he said that he’d always planned to have it collected the next day, after the end of his stay. Thanks for asking me!
'Thankfully, AirBnb gives me the option to not accept ‘instant bookings’, where guests can reserve their stay without my permission'
In a dream world, people would be shaved from top to bottom before they step over my threshold. The shower drain is the worst. I resign myself to having to yank out hairballs the size of rats as part of my routine. It’s quite the workout.
Used condoms on the lawn, nail clippings in a neat pile under the sofa... I’ve seen it all. I’ve thrown out pumped breast milk left in a Ziploc bag in the fridge and almost screamed at the sight of what I thought was a small mammal that had died behind the sofa. It turned out to be a clump of discarded hair extensions.
All this is despite me conducting serious vetting before allowing people to stay. Thankfully, AirBnb gives me the option to not accept ‘instant bookings’, where guests can reserve their stay without my permission. And I’m getting a garden room converted so that I can stay on site in the future while guests stay, to keep a closer eye on them.
I’m very picky. First of all I look through their reviews from other hosts. If they haven’t got wholly positive feedback – or if they haven’t got any at all – then it’s a ‘no’ from me.
To be honest, I turn away more holidaymakers than I accept. It’s a curt ‘no thank you’ to pets, parties, barbecues and it’s categorically no smoking.
If they’re unclear about why they want to book, I probe them to an extent that CIA interrogators would be proud of. I want to know exactly why they are visiting my neck of the woods. Who is in the party? How old are they? When will they check in and out? I want a profile of who is staying, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I’m all too happy to go back and forth until they satisfy me that they won’t trash my home – although, of course, you can never really tell. It takes a long time for me to hit the ‘confirm button’.
But don’t get shirty with hosts like me. We aren’t managers at a hotel; these are our houses that we love and have worked hard for. People do get exasperated with my questioning and I’ve been accused of being too nosy. But what are you trying to hide? Plus, if I know more about you, I can be a far more helpful host.
I’m not even overly strict on rules. My requests are totally reasonable. Close the windows, turn everything off (don’t forget the coffee machine!). You’d be amazed by the number of people that stroll out with the place lit up like a Christmas tree.
Of course, you do get complaints – one visitor was furious that I didn’t have a knife sharpener in the house – and I treat complainers and curmudgeonly types who leave a bad review to a carefully worded response, putting them firmly back in their box.
At the end of the day, if you don’t like my rules, then you know what to do. You may be on holiday - but this is my house.
As told to Samantha Brick