Final note: Airbnb did, however, mark our account with an official ‘damage incident.’ WTF… So if you ever stay there, do make sure to bring some chicken wings and messily enjoy the hot sauce collection on that white sofa. (14/14)

I sent the Walmart listing to Airbnb. The damages claim was concluded. Were the hosts pursued for fraud? Removed from Airbnb? Of course not. But at least we didn’t have to pay 10 grand for a budget sofa. (13/14)

Unable to refute this nonsense, Google Image Search saved the day. That ‘luxury’ RH sofa? Not actually a $399 special from Walmart. (12/14)

After a few days waiting, ‘Judge Jonathan’ asked us to prove we hadn’t broken the sofa. Ah yes, the old prove-a-negative routine again. (11/14)

A week later, an email arrived: a $10,000 damages claim. The crime? Apparently, we had destroyed the sofa. The ‘evidence’? A photo of a sofa with two metal legs slightly unscrewed and a link to a very different Restoration Hardware sofa. (10/14)

A week on, a twist: the host claimed we were STILL at the property. Now 3,000 miles away, I sent Airbnb a timestamped selfie with the Space Needle. Not sufficient. Several emails later, ‘Jonathan’ from customer support graciously accepted I was back in Seattle. (9/14)

Still, Airbnb would surely help us out? They required evidence to issue a refund. Slight problem—it’s quite hard to email customer support a cold shower, secondhand smoke, or a nightclub at 3am. (8/14)

At 2am, they returned from the casino. Loud, drunk, and very much not done partying. The dancing continued until dawn. At 6am, we decided we’d had enough fun for one Airbnb and left early. (7/14)

Friday night, cigarette and weed smoke started pouring through the heating vents. The Airbnb upstairs had transformed into a nightclub. Earplugs in, I tried to sleep. Fortunately, they quietened down at 11pm. (6/14)

It’s a street-level flat, so you’d think locking the windows would be good. Not according to our host. Apparently, it was a fire hazard. I wasn’t so much worried about escaping—more the unwanted additional guests. (5/14)

The shower had a window directly facing next door’s kitchen. No blind, obviously. The steam will sort it, I thought. Turns out, no hot water. Cold but gymnastic shower routine avoiding the eye-line of the older guy making his evening dinner. Magical. (4/14)

After a planes, trains, and automobiles kind of day, all I wanted was a drink and a shower. Three cupboards in: 90+ bottles of hot sauce, no drinking glasses. Fourth cupboard? Three more shelves of hot sauce. Quirky. (3/14)

We booked an Airbnb in New York to look after a sick family member. Not the best neighborhood. Rubbish strewn everywhere, but it was garbage day, and a frigid, gusty January afternoon. (2/14)