Airbnb has been functioning in Australia for only 12 years, so until recently, I hadn’t jumped on the bandwagon to book a holiday on the site, lest I turn into some sort of reckless adventurer.

But needing a place to stay in Sydney recently and with the usual accommodation at my sister’s in such a state of renovation that Kevin McCloud would confidently predict it was “unlikely to have a completion date this side of 2030”, we decided to splash out and:

#116 Give Airbnb a Try

Why not book an upmarket apartment in the heart of the city with great views and all the mod cons?

Every review for this new apartment was glowing, the ratings universally 5-stars and the praise for our host ‘Anna’* was fulsome. What could go wrong?

Indeed.

We messaged ‘Anna’ from the airport cab as advised, but alas, she wasn’t at the destination to greet us. And the foyer of the 30-storey building where we were staying needed a swipe card to enter, which we didn’t have, so we slipped in behind a Deliveroo chap who obviously knew the secret code. All very James Bond.

When there was no sign of ‘Anna’ inside either, we wandered up to the kindly concierge who we noticed greeting many of the passing visitors by name. We asked if he could let our airbnb host know of our arrival. He seemed puzzled. He didn’t know an ‘Anna’. So we continued to wait for her.

The place was a bustling metropolis reminiscent of a stay in Shanghai or Bangkok. Students and city workers, retired elders carrying bags of groceries, fit young things with dogs on leashes and numerous delivery men criss-crossed the space. Fascinating! It was like entering another world existing in parallel to the one we knew.

Finally someone walked over to us, said he was ‘Anna’s’ partner, bustled us into one of the sleek lifts and sped us up to our apartment 1310. Was I a little disconcerted that there was, unusually, a 13th floor in this building? Perhaps.

But with its neat layout and great views of central Sydney, the apartment was exactly as advertised.

We nipped out to a nearby food court to buy provisions, but it was only on our return that we noticed the sign in the lift.

AIRBNB STRICTLY PROHIBITED?

Surely this sign didn’t pertain to our stay. It must be a new rule, we thought, a rule for others. How lucky were we to be exempt?

So we went out again to explore Sydney and admire the beauty of the QVB.

The evening was drawing in when we returned.

And that’s when things took a darker turn.

The lift refused to accept the electronic code on our key ring. Others sharing the ride up to different floors had no trouble, but for us, persuading the lift to stop at the 13th floor where resided the apartment with all our belongings wasn’t going to happen.

So unless we were happy to ride up and down all night, never being allowed to exit, it looked like we were stymied.

Back to the kindly concierge. Why could we not access our floor, we asked? He told us we’d have to message ‘Anna’ and tell her to ring the National Facilities Management to sort out the issue.

Could we not do that ourselves? No, he said, it had to be ‘Anna’, the owner he now seemed to know.

Hmm. Suspicious. Did he have anything to do with our predicament?

Fortunately ‘Anna’ agreed to message the management for us.

But then asked us to say we were friends of hers.

Sure, ‘Anna’. I’ve no doubt we look just like all your friends.

After a longer wait, by which time I was ready to throw myself on the mercy of the Management Court if I could just be permitted to retrieve my clothes, two very well dressed executive-types walked officiously towards us holding clipboards. They were very stern. We were not entitled to be there. These gorgeous apartments were for owners and tenants only. Airbnb was strictly forbidden. ‘Anna’ knew the rules!

I suspect it was only by virtue of our age, our gender and by now, our bewildered manner that they agreed to unlock the freeze and let us ascend to the 13th floor. We could even stay for the 3 nights we’d paid.

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Since our return home, Airbnb keeps asking us to rate our stay. But oddly, when we go looking for the apartment again on their site, all we get is …

And my conclusion from this adventure?

#116 Don’t give Airbnb a Try. Unless you really love stress in your life.

* ‘Anna’ is not her real name. She may – or may not – even exist. We never met her!