$500 a night to stay in a treehouse with no loo? No thanks
WHAT do you think Airbnb’s most “wished-for” abode is? A castle in Scotland? A villa in Tuscany? It’s this place, which has three separate rooms joined by rope bridges — and no loo of its own. Ah, no thanks, writes Susie O’Brien.
Susie O'Brien
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WHAT do you think Airbnb’s most “wished-for” abode is? A castle in Scotland? A villa in Tuscany?
A house in East Melbourne overlooking the MCG? Nope.
It’s a treehouse in Atlanta, Georgia, that consists of three separate rooms joined by rope bridges that doesn’t even have its own loo.
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Haven’t they heard about hallways? Indoor plumbing? Electric lighting?
It’s billed as a “cute little love shack that looks as if it’s in a charming woodland” but in reality is minutes from downtown Atlanta and shares the same block as the main house. You can wheel the bed out under the stars, where you can hear the burbling stream — and traffic.
“What could be better than a great bed up in the trees?” the ad reads.
A bed on the ground with enclosed walls and indoor dunny, that’s what.
As Airbnb celebrates 10 years this month, it’s having a huge impact on rental housing supply and the popularity of hotels and motels. It’s been extraordinarily successful by cashing in on people’s desire to get a bargain and make a buck on the side.
The range of diverse international offerings includes a yurt, a converted plane, a railway carriage, a gypsy caravan and even a ball suspended among branches in the Loire Valley billed as a “bespoke nest”. You can even rent a geodome, which looks a sheet thrown over some bent sticks in a garden. My kids used to build better-looking cubbies under our dining table. But people pay $500 a night for this “dome from home”.
It’s clear you have to be an expert to decipher the accommodation listings so you can be sure you’re getting what you want. It’s usually best to read between the lines.
An “energetic neighbourhood” could mean there’s a brothel next door. A “back-to-nature experience” means there aren’t any walls or floor.
It could be “littered with antique pieces” or it may just be littered with old junk. “Luxuriously finished using traditional building methods” means it’ll fall down if you slam the door.
“Facilities are rustic” means you have to bring your own loo paper.
“One-in-a-kind digs” should make you suspicious — there’s probably a good reason there’s only one.
“Brilliant sea view” could merely mean a 2006 calendar from the Greek islands hangs in the kitchen.
I can’t bring myself to hire out my house. I could list it as a “charming hideaway in a tree-filled garden” but I know people would be disappointed when they saw the reality.
I’d also struggle to have complete strangers living in my house. What if they don’t think much of my reading matter in the loo? (Dog-eared Donna Hay mags.); or found stray hairs in the sink? Rifle through my undies? Try on my clothes? Or — even worse — muck up my Foxtel recordings of The Bachelor and Fixer Upper?
There’s also the fact that Airbnb says many guests “like to be treated like family”. Ah, no thanks. That’s why I go on holidays in the first place.
Who wants whiny guests behaving like my entitled offspring? They’d be banging on about how there’s NOTHING to eat and they NEED to “borrow” $10 to go to Maccas otherwise they’re going to DIE of STARVATION. Or complaining that the internet speed is TOO SLOW for them to stream four social media services and watch three movies while pretending to do homework.
In any case, there are too many horror stories about people encountering bugs in the kitchen, dodgy sofa beds that collapse when they lie on them, door codes that don’t work and intrusive hosts.
I personally couldn’t think of anything worse than renting a bedroom in a house where people lived. Would I have to queue up for the loo? Eat breakfast with them in my dressing gown? Make polite conversation before I’d had my morning coffee? No way, Jose.
One Airbnb user thought he was sharing the home of an “active, artistic family” only to find he was in a cot in the basement of what sounded like a children’s dance studio. On the third day of his stay, he came home to find the host reading in his living room. “I’m doing a load of laundry,” he explained. “Please, have a seat.”
Another rented out his apartment to what he thought was a Chicago businessman and his family only to find it was the scene of an orgy with “nearly nude overweight people” that’s now highly ranked on redtube.
Things can get even more weird. A guy rented a unit in Berlin, only to be greeted on the second day by the real owner who wanted to know what the hell he was doing in his house. Airbnb isn’t for me — unless someone’s willing to pay $500 a night …
Susie O’Brien is a Herald Sun columnist