Let me know exactly what time you’ll arrive” writes the landlady of my B&B, “because I might need to pop down the hospital. Little Jimmy’s just been hit by a car.”

Poor Jimmy I think, checking my emails on the service station Wi-fi. As a parent I can imagine the distress.

Should we arrange alternative accommodation?

We’re staying in Doncaster, unlikely to be besieged by Easter Pilgrims, so I’m sure we can come up with something else.

There’s no reply, so at about 4 o’clock I ring the bell.

A hunchbacked old lady yanks the door open. Inside, I see Jimmy slumped on the floor, looking like he‘s on his way out.

His broken leg is suspended in a leopard print cast. And his tail is wagging. For Jimmy is a dog.

He takes one look at me, and throws up. “You’ll have to excuse Jimmy” she says softly, “he doesn’t like his pills.”

As the rest of the gang pile in with their suitcases, Jimmy continues to wag his tail. If only his owner was this pleased to see us.

This is our first experience of Airbnb, an online B&B service where you book someone’s entire house or flat over the internet.

Or in our case, you book rooms within someone’s house while they stay to cook you a nice breakfast in the morning.

What’s unique about Airbnb is that the proprietors review you, the guests, rather than the other way around.

Which is why we’re all bending over to pat Jimmy’s head, and turn a blind eye every time he’s sick on the carpet.

We should be perfect guests. But being in an unfamiliar house has disadvantages.

On Friday after work we go straight back to the B&B and put the kettle on.

One of us accidentally flicks the wrong switch, which turns the landlady’s bedroom light on.

She stumbles onto the landing in her dressing gown as though she’s been blinded by an explosion, which sets Jimmy off barking. An unpropitious start.

On Saturday after work we decide it’s safer to take in a Beatles tribute band. The wine is flowing.

The band are tight – Paul in particular seems to have filled out.

I don’t have much recollection of getting back. I will however never forget, as I made my way down the staircase of the B&B to the breakfast table, the sight of my trousers turned inside out, dangling off the railings.

If either Jimmy or the landlady saw them hanging there, then nothing was said.

But I can’t wait to read the review and find out what happened.