I’m back from our most recent European summer adventure, and this is the first post I’ve written—though not the one I imagined. I’m still dealing with the fallout from what I can only describe as a Booking.com nightmare: a five-night apartment stay gone terribly wrong, with little help from the platform I’ve trusted for years.
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.
The moment I purchase plane tickets, my next move is always the same: I head to Booking.com to line up our stays. I’ve developed a rhythm—booking promising places, comparing reviews, and finalizing bookings before cancellation windows close. Over the years, we’ve stayed in some truly lovely places this way.
I know the platform well. I’ve even appreciated their so-called “priority service”—at least before COVID changed everything.
But none of that made up for what happened on this trip.
We booked an apartment in Vienna for five nights. It was rated three stars, with a perfect 10 from a single reviewer. The photos looked clean and inviting. The location was great.
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 strong reviews and a clean, modern style, though it 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.
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 brand new—and honestly, it looked it. At the time, the apartment had a perfect 10 review score… from two reviews written by the same person.
I hesitated, 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.
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. Everything looked in order.
But here’s the twist: the listing I booked is no longer accepting reservations. It’s now been relisted on Booking.com under a new “brand-new” profile, once again with a perfect 10 rating. And—surprise!—my review is nowhere to be found on the new listing.
Photo above: Bad first impression; but cosmetic, so I didn’t panic yet.
Photo above: There were ant baits all over, but they must not have worked because it turned out there were ants running all over too!
Instant Regret, Upon Arrival
I wasn’t expecting luxury when we arrived. 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 pulled up 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.
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.
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 chipped, uneven 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.
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. 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!”
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.
Booking.com Priority Customer Disservice
Realizing the apartment didn’t match the photos—and still short on beds for seven—I called Booking.com. It was late, and I was already 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.
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 place had a known ant infestation. Afterward, 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. A child’s hand, a curious toe… it was a genuine safety hazard. I knew we had to leave.
Photo above: The electrical socket that finally pushed me over the edge, and out of this apartment.
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 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 that I was requesting a refund. 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
Forty-eight hours passed. Nothing from Booking.com.
In fact, I never heard back from them at all while we were still in Vienna.
Eventually—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. It wasn’t convenient to gather and send that while still traveling, but I complied anyway.
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 on the active listing. But they didn’t. They posted it on the original listing I booked through, which after receiving some lower reviews, was delisted and relisted.
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.
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.
They have.
There are countless horror stories out there—travelers left stranded, customer service dead ends, no accountability. Reading them, 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.
For years, I assumed that if I followed all the steps—booked carefully, communicated clearly, followed protocol—Booking.com would have my back. But they didn’t.
Not at all.
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. It’s a real protection policy—not just a bullet point on a website. 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
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 some dusty unit in a closet that didn’t work, the sofabed wasn’t made up and I couldn’t find enough bedding, and there weren’t enough towels.
But it was the smell that pushed us out.
We found another accommodation and moved. I let the property owner know, and I also contacted Booking.com. That time, I was told 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. Guests were complaining about being eaten by fleas.
So… yes. I should have learned the first time. But I gave Booking.com the benefit of the doubt. And I won’t be making that mistake again.
What I’ve Learned (The Hard Way)
This experience taught me something I didn’t expect: companies change.
Booking.com used to have fantastic customer service. Five years ago, I felt confident recommending them. But somewhere along the way, things shifted—and I didn’t notice.
I had done my research. I even searched to see if this apartment was listed elsewhere for more reviews. It wasn’t. And 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.
We likely spend up to $10,000 a year on accommodations. That’s not a small investment. And it’s too much to risk on a company that can’t be trusted when things go wrong.
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.
And maybe this is part of a larger issue. I’ve been reading more lately about how short-term rentals affect local housing. There’s pressure to turn anything into a rental, and the standards can be much lower than for long-term tenants. Sewer smells, cockroaches, broken furniture—these stories are becoming more common in some areas.
It also seems that many 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 shift. And honestly, 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.
This whole ordeal has nudged me to be more open-minded going forward. To explore other platforms. To diversify. And to value peace of mind as much as price or photos. I look forward to sharing more in the future, including my experience switching to AirBnB.
Bonus: The Penthouse Apartment that Saved the Day
If you’re wondering where we ended up in Vienna after all that—scroll down to see the photos.
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!
