During our San Francisco Bay Area weekend getaway, I emerged from the bathroom looking for my teenage daughter, Hannah, and my husband, Brady. Normally, in a hotel room, the loved ones you travel with are easy to find — most likely channel surfing from a queen bed.
But the silence in our lodging took me happily by surprise. My family was there. I just couldn't see them. No, they weren't hiding in a penthouse suite. They had retreated elsewhere in our spacious Airbnb rental.
Our two-bedroom, cosmopolitan apartment faced a busy street in west Berkeley. We paid $145 a night, at least $100 less than if we'd stayed in a three-star hotel in San Francisco with expensive parking.
With all the controversy surrounding Airbnb, I had my doubts about renting a stranger's apartment. But let's face facts: The sharing economy is here to stay. More than 80 million travelers have used Airbnb, so we thought we'd give it a shot.
Getting started
Hannah is a huge fan of "The Hunger Games." A traveling "Hunger Games" exhibition, with props and behind-the-scenes stories from the films, landed in San Francisco in February. We told Hannah we would take her to the exhibition during Presidents' Day weekend. With college for her a few years away, we decided to add tours of campuses to our itinerary. The Bay Area's amazing dining scene was also on our list.
We'd visited San Francisco countless times and had a few favorite hotels in mind. But everything was more than $250 a night. We looked across the Bay Bridge, but the tab was still $200 or more. We abandoned any hope of finding an affordable place.
That's when we began researching Airbnb and the similar VRBO. Prices, it seemed, were reasonable and the options seemed plentiful.
We took the plunge.
Read the fine print
Always take the time to read each listing closely. If you don't, you might end up in a bad neighborhood or taking care of someone's pet.
We thought we'd struck gold when we found a large house with grand views, listed at $250 a night.
The only quirk: The property came with a cat. "The cat sleeps in the master bedroom," the listing said. Brady and I are allergic to cats, so that wasn't an option.
We kept digging. Our Berkeley apartment didn't have TV, which could be a deal-breaker for many. But it did have Wi-Fi, which was all we needed.
Other things to look out for are cleaning fees and hefty deposits. Ours came with a cleaning fee of $95, which was moderate compared with other listings'.
Pictures worth a thousand words
Most listings provide room-by-room photos. Look at each one closely so you know what you're getting. Some listings stated they slept "up to four," but the images told another story.
Some homeowners have different definitions of what they consider a "bed." Many of our choices were studio apartments with one bedroom and a foldout sofa or futon. That works for a toddler, but not a teenager who is 4 inches taller than her mom.
Airbnb and VRBO both provided maps of the area where each listing is located. We used Google Maps to zoom in on neighborhoods.
In many cases, we found listings that looked nice but were granny flats, tucked behind a house. Privacy seemed a bit sketchy, so we narrowed our search to apartments or houses.
Welcome, stranger
After a two-hour search, we settled on the chic loft in west Berkeley owned by a graphic designer from Paris. Once we put in the request, our reservation was accepted that same night by our host, Rod.
He was prompt and friendly during e-mail exchanges. After I told him we were foodies, he suggested I snap up an OpenTable reservation quickly for Chez Panisse.
As our getaway approached, Airbnb sent e-mail reminders about our trip. So far, so good. This made me feel like we had not been forgotten.
Two days before our trip, I e-mailed Rod to ask him about checking in early — around 9:30 a.m. on a Friday. Rod told us to talk to his business partner, Brian, who would give us the key. He gave us Brian's cell number.
Until this point, every exchange I'd made with Rod was through Airbnb. Now, things were getting personal — privacy barriers were coming down. At some point, you have to meet or talk to a stranger to get access to your accommodations.
Brian was terrific. When I texted him, he promptly told us he'd be able to meet us at our scheduled arrival. When we arrived in Berkeley, Brian was waiting for us at the apartment.
As we entered the home, a bottle of wine and two glasses were sitting on the coffee table. Next to it was a one-page list of house instructions and a map of local restaurants.
Brian gave us a tour and answered questions, including tips on where to find good coffee and beer. After he told us what to do with the keys when we checked out, he let us be.
I couldn't believe our luck. The charming, spacious, Spanish adobe apartment had coved ceilings, wood floors and mosaic tile accents in the kitchen and bathroom. The apartment, which also had a covered back porch and a balcony, was as big as our home. It not only lived up to the photos in the listing, it was quite honestly better than we'd ever imagined.
It was also two blocks from Acme Bread Co., a Bay Area institution. A few minutes away by car were Whole Foods, the famed "Gourmet Ghetto" and several hipster espresso bars.
After a long day sightseeing, our gorgeous flat was a welcome retreat. It didn't dawn on me how homey and relaxing the Airbnb experience would be until I emerged from the shower one evening. My husband was sitting in a chair reading the day's news on his phone. Hannah was in "her" bedroom, watching a Netflix movie on her iPad. Her door was shut. When I walked into the master bedroom to change in privacy, I was ecstatic.
Here we had the best of both worlds: We were on vacation, but it felt like we were at home.
