Yes, this Airbnb Had a Blender

a month away from home

We just got back from a month-long road trip across the country. I scripted and shot six long form youtube videos in Idaho which, trust me, is more work than it sounds.

On the way home, we stopped in Wisconsin to visit friends. My friend Kevin arranged the accommodations. His friends, Lucas & Melissa, own a small grocery in the charming, brimming-with-potential little village of Wonewoc, Wisconsin, which sits right in the heart of the Driftless Region, a storybook landscape of rolling hills, forests, and beautiful farms.

Above their store, they finished a loft apartment which they rent on Airbnb.

simple, yet profound

We’d been on the road for hours with two boys under two. If you’ve had young kids, you know exactly what we were up against.

It was early evening when we rolled into town, desperate for rest. The check-in instructions directed us to an old weathered door and a long flight of stairs.

At the top of the stairs, I punched in the code—and the moment we stepped inside, we felt it.

There was a presence of peace and welcome in the room. The lights were set just right, the air cool and faintly scented with a candle. The space was simple but perfectly clean and well decorated. A huge rug covered the living room floor, giving the boys plenty of space to romp after being buckled in for hours.

It was exactly what we needed.

And then came the details.

Being hot outside, I instinctively opened the fridge to find an assortment of cold drinks from the store below.

On the counter sat gift bags, a pastry box, and an envelope.

Because of my work, we’ve stayed at some of the nicest places you can stay. I can truthfully say that none of them matched the thoughtfulness of this welcome. Inside were fresh scones and muffins, local snacks, honey, and homemade candles.

And a whole bag just for the boys: play dough, bubbles, baby puffs, juice, and a beautiful book. But not just any book—it was from a series Lucas already loves, and this was one he didn’t have yet.

He was ecstatic. “I got my own pwesent, Daddy!” he shouted, again and again.

The value went far beyond any price tag. It was in the thought, the care. These hosts clearly have little children of their own. They live far from anywhere. They must know what it’s like to road trip with toddlers. And they’d put on a masterclass in welcome—without even being there. But they were. They showed up in every thoughtful detail.

a blender says it all

Unlike pretty much every other airbnb I’ve stayed at, this place had everything. Washer and dryer. Box fan for white noise. Iron and ironing board. Space for the playpen. Basic things, I know. But you wouldn’t believe how rare it is to have all the basics in place and working.

And then there was the blender.

I’d invited a friend over. We hadn’t seen each other in a while. I ran downstairs and bought milk and ice cream to make milkshakes. Only after spending $14 and barreling up those stairs again did I realize my stupidity. What Airbnb has a blender?

This one.

Those shakes tasted extra good.

celebrating ceiling tiles

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I noticed the ceiling tiles. As somewhat of a design snob, few things in modern building irritate me more than ceiling tiles. Sterile, bland, institutional.

I had to laugh. I hadn’t even noticed them before—the entire ceiling. Everything else in the space—decor, cleanliness, amenities, that magical welcome—was so full of heart, I didn’t care.

Design affects how we feel, but care is even more powerful.

How do you show care?

I once heard someone say: “hospitality means: we thought of you before you got here.”

Amen.

As if we hadn't been spoiled enough, the next night our friends Rory and Rebecca invited us to stay at their old, beautiful farmhouse in Tennessee. In it sits an old, beautiful Steinway grand piano. Yes, that’s a nice thing to own. But to have it in your house for a guest to play? And especially for a guest who loooves great pianos?

Heaven.

All of it reminded me: You don’t need a big budget. You don’t need a fancy space.

No, to make a lasting emotional impact on someone, you just need care.

And a big, giant heart.

Big hearts beat big budgets every time.

—Isaac