The Spartan Airbnb

I guess we were spoiled.

Since we began booking Airbnb homes rather than hotel rooms to visit our son in Dallas, we have stayed in some very nice homes. Many had been recently renovated, were creatively decorated, and were thoughtfully filled with amenities. We’ve stayed in places that had wall-mounted TVs in every room, surface phone chargers, and an easy-to-use printer. The kitchen was stocked with bottles of water, coffee pods, snacks, and condiments for meal prep. The bathrooms were chock full of fluffy towels, soaps, conditioners, and lotions. The beds were full of pillows and the closets with extra blankets. Binders full of house instructions, favorite restaurants, and nearby attractions. The owners weren’t obligated to provide all this, but we were glad they did.

Most recently, though, we stayed in what I have labeled the “spartan” airbnb. It was sparkling clean. It was well-maintained. It had lots of space for guests. I slept well in the comfortable beds.

Amenities? Virtually none. We could not find one dish towel in the kitchen. We were not able to locate any extra pillows or blankets in the bedrooms. Bath towels were few and far between. There was nothing in the refrigerator. Not a single ice cube in the freezer. One condiment: a salt shaker. Three or four generic coffee pods. Very few knick-knacks or wall hangings. Just a couple of hangers in the closets. No instructions whatsoever for the fireplace, TVs, or internet.

OK, so it wasn’t all bad. The wifi was very fast. The house was a five-minute walk from my son’s house. It was the week of Thanksgiving, and the hosts had put up a Christmas tree (although it was sparsely decorated). The home looked exactly like the pictures we had seen.

We had just gotten spoiled.

After I got home, I was surprised to read reviews from guests who described this house as the nicest they had ever stayed in. Obviously, these folks hadn’t stayed in too many places.

And I was also amused when I texted the host and asked about check-out instructions. (Remember, there was no binder of instructions.) The only direction was, “Please naked the beds.”

Lol. We did.