After I left Christine claimed “someone was smoking in the toilet" which made a small mark on the floor. She demanded to know what I was going to do about it before she wrote a review.
I politely replied that I am a non-smoker and my companion never smokes indoors. He didn’t, and he wouldn’t.
Christine doubled down on her accusation, and proposed that neither of us review each other. It felt as if I were being blackmailed into not leaving an honest review.
If Christine had been a fly on the wall – and there were many flies on the walls - she would have overheard criticism of her cramped sleepout, and anticipated an unfavorable review.
Calling it a tiny home is misleading. It is more of a nana’s boudoir, perfumed, claustrophobic, cluttered. Serious Delores Umbridge vibes. No pots, no pans.
We were good guests. We hung our wet weather gear in the bathroom, rolled up the pink fluffy monstrosity on the floor, washed our cups, stripped the bed, and most certainly did not smoke indoors.