If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you’ve probably noticed I often book through Booking.com. In fact, I’ve even recommended them here. So this post feels a bit like an emotional breakup. I’ve developed a routine—booking promising places, devouring reviews, and finalizing bookings before cancellation windows close. Over the years, we’ve stayed in some truly lovely places this way.
Let’s just say, I know the platform well.
But none of that made up for what happened on my most recent trip.
We booked an apartment in Vienna for five nights. Booking.com rated it three stars, with a perfect 10 from a single reviewer. The photos looked clean and inviting. The location was good.
But, what we walked into wasn’t even fit for a desperate night’s sleep.
Here’s how it all unfolded—and why, after a decade of loyalty, I think it’s time for me and Booking.com to part ways.
Booking Confirmed, Thought I Booked a Great Place for my Family
Finding accommodations for this trip was a bit tricky—especially in Prague and Vienna. Prices were sky-high, even months in advance, and large apartments that could comfortably fit our group were few and far between.
Eventually, I found a place in Vienna that looked lovely. It had consistently strong reviews and a clean, modern style. But, was located well outside the city center. I booked it, thinking it was the best option at the time. But I kept checking for alternatives—just in case. We’ve learned that we are happier when we stay closer to the old town.
One day, a new listing appeared: Central Stone Spacious Apartment. The location was much better. The photos looked clean and modern. The description said it was new to booking.com—and honestly, it looked brand new. At the time, the apartment had a perfect 10 review score… from two reviews written by the same person.
I hesitated because of the no cancellation policy, but decided to go for it. I canceled my original reservation and booked Central Stone instead. It was nonrefundable, so I paid the full $850 up front. I wasn’t expecting luxury; just a clean and comfortable space for cooking dinners, sleeping, and showering. For seven people. That’s what it advertised.
Right after booking, I messaged the property owner to let them know we’d be arriving late at night. I also made sure to accurately list all seven guests—ages included—just as required. The price increased for each guest. Everything looked in order.
Photo above: Bad first impression; but cosmetic, so I didn’t panic yet.
Photo above: There were ant baits all over the apartment, which clearly weren’t working, as we later discovered lots of ants living there.
Instant Regret, Upon Arrival
It was around 10 p.m. after a long travel day, and we were mostly just eager to find our beds.
The listing had mentioned an elevator, so I was a bit thrown when we searched the street for the right door number and found the apartment was actually a cellar unit, tucked directly off the street—not inside the main building at all. But we were tired, and I was grateful to have something booked for five nights. A place to get some rest and feel comfortable.
Then we opened the door.
The smell hit first: stale cigarette smoke. Not faint. The kind that makes you sick if you aren’t used to breathing it. Something you don’t want to smell, if you aren’t a smoker. The cigarette packages in Europe provide excellent visuals and warnings of what happens when you breath this smoke and the toxins. The apartment was advertised as non-smoking, but I guess that just meant guests can’t smoke.
Straight ahead, a dishwasher sat with its front panel completely missing. Under the counter, I noticed ant baits tucked along the floorboards.
I stepped farther in, trying to stay upbeat. Maybe it just needed a good airing out. But as I walked across the unusually chipped, and beat up flooring, that hopeful voice in my head was already starting to go quiet.
Photo above: The sofa that was said to sleep two people – and had no bedding.
Photo above: The top bunk with no bedding to be found.
Booked for 7; Set Up to Sleep 4
As is typical, the first thing everyone did was look for their bed. I claimed mine and set my bag down, then started checking the other rooms to help assign the rest. I had already planned the sleeping arrangements when I made the booking: my youngest would sleep on the twin in the living room, her two older sisters would share the double sofabed, and the boys would take the bunk beds in the separate bedroom.
Except—two of those beds were bare.
The top bunk and the sofabed had no bedding. Nothing. Maybe some crumbs.
I looked in every obvious place—closets, drawers—but came up empty. So I messaged the property owner via WhatsApp (his preferred method), letting him know we were missing bedding. He replied right away:
“The unit sleeps 7.”
To which I replied:
“Yes, I booked for 7—but there’s only bedding for 4.”
He asked me to send photos, then told me he would “research” the issue.
While I waited, I kept searching. It was really late at night. I opened a hallway shoe rack—maybe something was stuffed inside? Instead, the whole thing tipped over onto me. I yelled a warning to everyone: “Don’t touch the shoe rack or the stuff on top might fall and break!”
At this point, it was becoming clear that much of the furniture was broken or damaged. Even the giant cuddly teddy bear sitting in the corner had a giant rip down its backside, stuffing leaking out like a sad crime scene.
And worst of all? The top bunk bed wasn’t even usable. Several slats were missing entirely, while others were inverted, sagging inward in their final days. I only looked there because I noticed so many other items broken, that I got worried about the boys sleeping safely.
Booking.com Priority Customer Disservice
Realizing the apartment was short on beds for seven and that the owner didn’t seem all that responsive—I called Booking.com. It was late, and I was feeling uneasy. Now I was also racking up international roaming charges.
The agent took down all the information and filed a complaint with the property owner while I was still on the call. He recommended we stay the night—if possible—while they tried to sort things out. I was told it could take up to 48 hours for a resolution, and that it was too late to book alternative accommodations through their platform.
I hung up, feeling worse than before. People were tired. We were all trying to stay calm. But the smell in the apartment was starting to make us feel physically unwell. There seemed to also be sewer smell coming from the bathroom. The toilet was running, because someone flushed it.
My husband tried opening a back window for ventilation, only to have it nearly fall on his head. It turned out to be only partially hinged, and could only stay safely attached to the wall if locked shut.
Still, I tried to problem-solve. I thought: If the owner brings bedding, maybe we can move the top bunk’s mattress onto the floor. Not ideal, but safer than using the broken frame.
But that’s when the kids sounded the alarm.
“There are ants. Everywhere.”
Apparently, those ant baits weren’t doing their job. The kids showed me all the places they found with armies of ants in procession. The place had a known ant infestation. I found a review that had been posted after I booked:
“The next day there were ants everywhere—in the suitcase, in the kitchen, in the bathroom… The socks were black if you didn’t wear shoes.”
So… sleeping on the floor was no longer an option.
And then came the final straw.
While looking for outlets to charge phones, we found one near the floor that was completely exposed—no cover, just open electrical components anyone could touch. I wasn’t really sure what I was looking at. My kids could have tried to plug into either side. It was a genuine safety hazard. I knew we had to leave.
Photo above: The electrical socket with exposed electrical components.
Photo above: The missing and inverted slats for the top bunk bed. I didn’t get the best photos but at the other end, the slats are warped and sagging.
Communicating with the Property Owner Was Hopeless
I messaged the property owner again, explaining the situation in detail—missing bedding, broken furniture, ants, and the exposed electrical outlet. He showed no concern whatsoever.
Eventually, he sent a casual message saying the bedding was “in the sofa,” and I just needed to pull it out. That still didn’t solve anything—we were still short on beds, and by this point, it was very late at night. If we were going to relocate, we had to act quickly, before public transportation shut down for the night.
My husband booked two hotel rooms at the Hilton. We grabbed our bags and vacated the apartment. I messaged the owner again, explaining why we were leaving and suggesting that if he had another, more suitable property, we’d be open to a transfer. He read the message. But never replied.
The next morning, still no response. We had to check out of the hotel and move again. My husband booked a new apartment—again, through Booking.com.
I notified the original property owner requesting a refund. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, that perhaps he didn’t know the property’s condition and could use my feedback to improve it. I explained that we’d had no choice but to find alternative lodging, and even with a full refund, we were still at a financial loss.
His reply?
“You can cancel the reservation and I will apply the cancellation fee.”
That fee, of course, was the entire cost of the stay.
Ghosted by Booking.com Customer Service
I held faith in Booking.com. Forty-eight hours passed. Nothing from Booking.com.
In fact, I never heard back from them at all while we were still in Vienna. They left me stranded, as they did nothing to resolve it or help while I was there.
Eventually—many days later—they finally responded with an automated email, telling me I had 48 hours to submit evidence of the apartment’s condition in order to keep the complaint open. So I did. Fortunately I had snapped a few quick photos that I had sent to the property owner. I wish I had gotten more, but I didn’t realize I needed to build a case at the time and I was focused on the immediate needs of my family. I sent what I had, including screenshots of the conversations with the owner.
Then silence.
Maybe a week later, I got another email. This time, they said the complaint was being escalated. Still no human contact. No one replied to my message asking for an update.
Nearly two weeks later, a final message arrived:
They were unable to resolve the issue with the property owner.
So, they offered me about one-third of the cost of the stay—in Booking.com credits.
That was it.
And today? I received an invitation to “share feedback on their customer service.”
At this point, I think I’d rather invest my energy in sharing that feedback here, on my blog—where it might actually help someone else.
Filed Dispute with Credit Card Company
After Booking.com informed me they would not be issuing a refund, I filed a complaint with my credit card company.
I’ll update this post once I know the outcome.
At this point, I’m hopeful that they’ll have my back—because clearly, Booking.com doesn’t.
Left an Honest Review that No One Will Read
I was sure to leave a detailed review of the property. I had hoped that Booking.com would post it where future guests could see it. But they didn’t.
The property owner did respond to my review, not disputing any of my concerns. He took on a strangely helpful tone publicly, that was absent when communicating privately.
And how does Booking allow this: the listing I booked is no longer accepting reservations. It’s now been relisted on Booking.com under a new “brand-new” profile (new to booking.com), once again with a perfect 10 rating. And—surprise!—my review is nowhere to be found on the new listing. Yes, I did mention this to Booking.com; they ignored this part of my concern.
I'm Not the Only One
Now that the rose-colored glasses are off, I went online to see if others had experienced something similar and what they did to get a refund.
There are countless horror stories out there—travelers left stranded, customer service dead ends, no accountability from Booking.com or property owners. Reading these stories, I immediately felt grateful that we at least had the means to book hotel rooms and a new apartment on top of the original loss. It was stressful, yes—but we were able to get our family somewhere safe. Some people ended up sleeping in their cars, the street, etc.
For years, I assumed Booking.com would have my back. I have the highest loyalty tier (tier 3). I receive “priority service” (laugh). This all amounts to nothing. I feel foolish.
And now I know that’s not unusual. Booking.com takes no responsibility for the accuracy of listings. They act purely as a middleman, shuffling messages back and forth and eventually shrugging their shoulders if a property owner refuses to cooperate.
I’ve since learned that Airbnb offers something called AirCover, a guest guarantee at no additional cost. So, it looks like I’ll be switching platforms going forward.
Breaking up is hard. But in this case, it turns out it was a one-sided relationship all along.
Yes… This Wasn’t the First Time Booking.com Disappointed Me
Okay—now for the slightly embarrassing part.
This wasn’t the first time I got burned.
A couple of years ago, we stayed in Mulhouse, France. I had booked a place that looked great in the photos—and to be fair, it actually did look like the photos when we arrived. But it had been advertised as hypoallergenic, and the moment we walked in, we were hit with the overwhelming smell of cat urine.
Especially in the bedroom.
We stayed one night and woke up feeling like we’d inhaled ammonia in our sleep. There were other issues, too: the “air conditioning” turned out to be a mobile unit in a closet that wasn’t set up, the sofabed wasn’t made up and I couldn’t find enough bedding, and there weren’t enough towels. There was jack hammering across the street beginning early in the morning.
But it was the smell that made the place unbearable.
We found another accommodation and moved. I let the property owner know, and I also contacted Booking.com. The owner said they don’t allow animals and that they couldn’t smell the pungent cat urine.
Booking.com told me I hadn’t followed the right protocol—I should have called them first, and worked with the owner, who might have been able to move us to another property.
We were out about $300. But at that point, it seemed worth it just not to breathe in cat urine for another night.
Later, I checked the reviews again to see if anyone else noticed the odor. Guests were complaining about being eaten by fleas. Hmmm….
What I’ve Learned (The Hard Way)
Booking.com used to have fantastic customer service. Five years ago, I felt confident recommending them. But somewhere along the way, things shifted.
With Booking.com offering no guest guarantee and barely-there support, it turns out that no amount of careful planning can protect you when a platform fails to stand behind its listings. Other people had been warning me about things they had heard, but I insisted my experiences had been fine.
We likely spend up to $10,000 a year on accommodations. That’s not a small investment. I am not sure how that compares to the average customer, but I would think they would try to protect me. I have even started using the site to book car reservations and transfer services.
Part of what kept me loyal was the convenience: the app knew my preferences, my travel history, my saved favorites for dozens of cities. I was comfortable. But I’ve learned the hard way that relying too heavily on a single platform isn’t wise—especially one that offers no real accountability.
I’ve been reading more lately about how short-term rentals affect local housing. There’s pressure to turn anything into a rental. Locals struggle to find housing as a result. Sewer smells, cockroaches (we’ve put up with them at 2 places), broken furniture—these stories are becoming more common in some areas. It seems companies like Booking.com need to step it up and be a part of solutions, or they will become a bigger problem.
It also seems that some property management companies are juggling huge portfolios, cutting corners to keep costs down, and letting maintenance slide.
For a large group like ours, hotels are often impractical—but as the kids grow up and our travel style changes, I imagine we’ll consider hotels again. The idea of returning to a well-run hotel, where someone hands you a key and there’s always someone at the desk… it’s starting to sound kind of wonderful.
Bonus: The Vienna Apartment that Saved the Day (Highly Recommend for Large Group)
If you’re wondering where we ended up in Vienna after all that—scroll down to see the photos for the Premium Suites Vienna – Rooftop Apartment. This one I can recommend even if booking through Booking.com. I mean, the platform works great, until you stumble upon a bad place.
It was a last-minute booking, and yes, it cost more than the original apartment. But given the circumstances, I think we actually got a pretty fair deal. And most importantly: it was clean, safe, and quiet. After the chaos of Night One, that felt like luxury.
At first, I was still carrying the stress of the whole fiasco. But then Gary gently reminded me to look around. We were in Vienna. Staying in a penthouse apartment.
And he was right. The night before was bad, for sure, but at that moment, things were good.
Photo above: We loved the living room. It was very comfy and there was plenty of seating for everyone.
Photo above: The kitchen was well stocked for cooking. The dishwasher was broken, but otherwise, things worked well.
Photo above: Our girls each got their own bed – the room had two queens and a king!
Photo above: Gary and I loved that our room looked onto the rooftop terrace!
Photo above: The rooftop terrace was great for hang-drying our clothes!
Photo above: There were two rooms like this one, so both of the teen boys got their own room instead of their own bunk!
