Airbnb my room?

Instead of doing wild camping, we bought an Airbnb for a night. Fuck it. We’re not in our twenties anymore and both of us have found out we can make money outside of the narrow brief of our handcuffed industry, so long as we apply ourselves.

Our day on the Tor yesterday brought my desire to be in financial flow right back to the forefront of my mind. I’ve been downloading and processing huge amounts of stuff towards myself and others recently. We went to Burnham on Sea in the morning and chanted to the rising tide. Then we drove back to the old Tor and on the way I started expelling a whole pile of gathered up energetic shit. I was on a motorway, behind the wheel of a car. Helen is the only passenger I know that would just peacefully say “perhaps you should blow that out the window or it’ll keep coming back at you.” I almost pulled over. But it passed. Some nasty bits coming out.

We had been talking about money and how to make the stuff, and the reality hit me hard for the first time. Driving for a living is largely out for me for two years. Just yesterday I saw a post I would have applied for : “minimum 3 points”. I can’t. Suddenly I’ve got 6. My first proper interaction with the police, and I’m with The Prodigy about The Law from here on in.

In some ways I’m glad of it. I used to hear the sirens and see the colours and think of all the hours I was working helping train detectives in Colindale years ago, and I’d affectionately remember the evenings with that pint glass full of cash and the slow dumb friendly animals I tried to help with empathy. They were alright, if single-minded.

Now I twitch when I see them as I assume they want a piece of me. Damage breeds the expectation of damage. The rozzas kicked me really hard when I was down. They took actual significant literal money, plus the prospect of future earning, plus costing me higher insurance premiums, all for a mistake. Of course it was my own fault. But intention vs action, anyone? I wasn’t running some sort of deliberate scam. I was just being a thoughtless idiot. We all need to get better at not being one of those. But still…

I drove without insurance after jumpstarting the car in an underground car park with no reception and then being so involved in the practical business of keeping it running until the battery was charged. I didn’t and couldn’t pull over to confirm queued up insurance on my mobile until I had. “I’ll sort all the admin once I’m safely home.” The bitterest part of it all was my own honesty. “Can I see your insurance documents sir?” “Oh it’s all cued up on my phone but I haven’t stopped to confirm yet.”

I wake up screaming about that one. This is what I could’ve done : “Yes of course, officer. Let me just get them up on my phone… CONFIRM… CARD DETAILS FROM MEMORY … FEW SECONDS … Here you are officer. As you can see from the date (no time) I bought it today. It’s why it didn’t show up on your scanner.”

It was my one journey before getting everything fixed up. I am “ineligible” for a course (aka there are none because COVID).

Suddenly it’s six points, after 20 years of absolutely nothing, after all the roadmiles you can possibly imagine in a rich variety of vehicles. I can’t drive for money so easily for two years now, particularly without my own vehicle. Why? Because I’m stupid. Plus the letter of the law. It’s meant to be a lesson but the only thing I’ve learnt is that I shouldn’t trust the law so much.

Flow. Time to look elsewhere, say the powers that be. I’ve got so much to sell, inside a flat that I could use as an Airbnb more effectively than the guy who hosted us last night. We gave him 5 stars as he was lovely. He had a bunch of friends round when we arrived and we ended up having a fun and varied conversation with his mates, until he somehow decided to tell a long form story about how he shat himself at work, thereby baffling Helen and myself and embarrassing his old mates.

I reckon I could get my room into a good enough shape to rent, go on the sofa or to a friend’s house, have interesting guests and not regale them with stories about poo. Profit.

It’s a win win.

Tor view.


Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

2 thoughts on “Airbnb my room?”

    1. Thank you Francis. And thank you so so much for carrying on with reading me. It means so much to see how consistently you take in this random pile of life that I throw out and take the time to click “like”. The view is from Glastonbury Tor and is one of my favourite places in the world, although it was full of flying ants… 😉


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