April 27, 2026, 8:55 am | Read time: 6 minutes
The German Ina, 59, has already traveled through numerous countries around the world. In Europe, she is mostly on the road in her converted camper van–and as a solo traveler, she has already undertaken many fearless tours. But sometimes she finds herself in situations she would rather have avoided. This was the case on one of her recent trips, where she wanted to treat herself in Austria by staying in a warm accommodation instead of her camper. However, the booked Airbnb turned out to be an absolute nightmare. She shares her story with TRAVELBOOK.
Report: Alexandra Cavelius
After starting from the Allgäu and traveling almost 3,000 kilometers to Romania, staying in simple vacation homes or deserted forest campsites, I wanted to treat myself to a nice accommodation in a secluded manor house on the way back through Austria. So far, I had always felt safe. I booked my last night through Airbnb for just under 90 euros. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen to my inner voice, which quickly warned me: “Better leave while it’s still light!” In hindsight, I have to admit it was my own fault. This way, I experienced a creepy night I will never forget. To help other women react faster than I did, I’m sharing my story here.
Doubts Came Quickly
“How romantic,” I thought when I discovered the freshly yellow-painted solitary farm on the internet, nestled among wild vines. In the garden, wildflowers and ivy-covered stone benches. Located between Linz and Passau, surrounded only by nature. I had only skimmed the house descriptions and the few online reviews. One was good, the other critical regarding cleanliness. But I’m not picky, and of course, there are people who always have something to complain about. The room I chose looked large and clean, nostalgic and bright in the photo.
My contact person online had offered to pick me up with a wheelbarrow from the parking lot to transport my luggage along a roughly 200-meter-long path through the woods, but I shouldered my backpack myself and set off. My knee-high mixed-breed dog ran ahead, wagging its tail, while I marveled at the fairy-tale forest, where the manor house soon appeared among gnarled trees, with an old farmhouse attached. “Maybe 19th century,” I estimated its age and thought: “Wow, it looks just as enchanted as in the photos.” I was still unaware of what awaited me there.
Struggle Against Reluctance
A woman around 30 greeted me warmly. I was taken aback because large patches adorned her jacket. Several rags were tied around her narrow hips like skirts. In a movie, this would probably be a witch’s house, and she the wicked witch, I thought. Herbs were laid out for sale everywhere or hung in bunches from the beams. She said she had heated the house just for me. Hopefully, it wasn’t too warm for me? “No, no,” I said, as it was quite chilly in the old building.
She immediately showed me two tiled outhouses on the ground floor. I flinched because everything was very grimy. No faucet for washing hands. Instead of a door, there was a yellowed curtain. “The outhouse brings back funny childhood memories,” I recalled a sentence from the host’s description of the accommodation. I had imagined it differently.
My host led me over to the farmhouse. As depicted, there was my wooden room, with a bathroom and shower in the hallway. However, no toilet. And instead of a bed, to my great disappointment, there was an ancient pull-out couch. I could have left again, but it was too cold for me to sleep in the camper.
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Suddenly Fear Crept Up
Soon after, the friendly-looking host introduced himself. While I shivered in my anorak, the bearded man chatted about the old family property in a T-shirt. As soon as he left, I wanted to light the wood stove. “Yuck,” I exclaimed when I reached for a piece of wood, as the logs in the tub were covered in mouse droppings. The fire soon burned, but the stove couldn’t heat the large room. The temperature felt like it stayed around six degrees. I decided to quickly use the toilet. But I couldn’t find a light switch. And suddenly fear crept up in me.
The hallway was dark and winding, only the beam of my flashlight visible. Who knows who might meet me around the next corner? I heard my heart pounding in my ears as the host’s words came to mind, that he was a bachelor and enjoyed the company of nice women. He had his room somewhere down there. My imagination ran wild. In the program, a horror film à la Stephen King. “You’re here all alone as a woman!” became increasingly clear to me.
I actually made it to the destination, but the toilet had no doors I could lock behind me. I quickly lifted the heavy wooden lid over the hole, but at that moment, an icy draft shot up from the depths of the shaft, howling like a startled ghost. I froze in horror and thought: “Whoever falls in there will never come out again!” I immediately slammed the lid shut and hurried up in the dancing beam of the flashlight to curl up in my ice chamber on the thin mattress of the couch.
“Sleep!” I commanded myself. But as soon as I closed my eyes, mice pitter-pattered in the ceiling, on the floor, and not far from me over the kitchen counter. Heavier steps followed them on the wooden floor above. “Dong, dong, dong.” Rats? Martens? No idea! I didn’t want to know either. Suddenly a step creaked! What if that bearded man suddenly stood in front of me? My little dog would probably be the first to save herself. With clammy fingers, I typed what might be my last message to my husband on my phone: “If you’re looking for my body, I’m probably in the woods or the outhouse!”
Get Out of There!
As soon as dawn broke over the forest, I was behind the wheel of my camper. Get out of there! Later, I wrote a review on the Airbnb site, suggesting that the hosts provide lockable doors for solo female travelers and address the mouse problem.
In retrospect, I would advise all women: If you want to ensure that the accommodation meets your desired standards as a solo female traveler, it’s best to read the host descriptions and reviews from other visitors thoroughly. Additionally, it’s best to immediately look for an alternative nearby in case uncertainties arise or expectations are bitterly disappointed on-site. And even if the money has already been paid, sometimes it’s worth biting the bullet and moving on. Better to leave immediately than to stay and experience a nightmare with open eyes.