Winding Through the Cascades

The Cascades have loads of great driving routes. We snaked through the mountains to the little town of Leavenworth before sleeping in Yakima for the evening. 



A Nighttime Intruder

Something felt weird about our Airbnb in Yakima.  We’re still not able to put our finger on what it was.  The host was friendly enough, and showed us to our room.  Our room was probably one of the most comfortable that we’ve stayed in, but something still didn’t feel right.   

As we went to bed, Annie was having trouble falling asleep.  She had a feeling that someone was going to sneak into our room in the middle of the night.  Annie thought she’d locked the door, but she still felt uneasy.  At around 1am, the door creaked open from a push.   It was completely dark and Annie almost yelled, “Hello!?”  There was no answer.  A few seconds later, we could hear the dog scrambling around the room.  We got the dog out of the room and closed the door.  Annie’s weird sense that this would happen rattled her.  Adam pretended to be asleep, but he wasn’t. This was one Airbnb that we wouldn’t miss.  We hit the road early the next day and left without seeing anyone again.


Boundaries with Airbnb Hosts

It’s a strange thing sleeping in someone else’s home.  When you go into a hotel, you know what is yours and what isn’t.  With Airbnb, it’s different. We always like meeting the hosts and in our first interaction with them, we always try to understand where the boundaries are.  Do they want to hang out and talk to us?  Do they want to pretend we aren’t there?  What do they mean when they say “make yourself at home?”  Every host is different, but the vast majority attempt to have a real conversation to get to know their guests.  They’re probably a little curious and nervous too.

In Yakima, the host’s daughter was having a birthday party. There were probably 30 guests there in the living room and kitchen.  He invited us to join the party, but we felt like it was a false invite, like it would be an intrusion for us to be there.  So we politely declined and went to our room to plan the next leg of our trip before heading out for Mediterranean food.  The son and his friends were on the stoop drinking bud lights and smoking cigarettes in their flat brimmed baseball hats when we returned.