What to put in an Airbnb welcome book

Why it matters more than the welcome basket

Almost every message in the first hour of a stay is one of the same five questions: the Wi-Fi password, how the hot water works, where to park, what time is checkout, which bin takes what. A good welcome book answers them before the guest reaches for the phone. That means fewer interruptions for you and less friction for them, and friction is what quietly turns a five-star stay into a four-star review.

It also sets the tone. A guest who finds the door code, the Wi-Fi and the coffee in the first two minutes relaxes.

The ten sections, in the order guests need them

Order matters more than design. Someone standing in the hallway with two suitcases wants the Wi-Fi and the lock, not the history of the neighbourhood.

1. Wi-Fi. Network name and password, big, right at the top. If you can, add a Wi-Fi QR code so phones join without anyone typing a sixteen-character password. If there are two networks, say which one reaches the terrace.
2. Check-in and checkout. Times, the door or key-box code, what to do with the keys when leaving, whether late checkout is possible and how to ask, and where bags can wait if guests arrive early.
3. House rules. Short, polite, specific. Quiet hours with an actual time, smoking, pets, extra guests, shoes indoors. One line on the why (“the neighbours below have a baby”) gets far more compliance than a list of don’ts.
4. How things work. The section that saves the most messages. Heating and air conditioning (which remote, which button), the boiler switch, the oven, the dishwasher, the washing machine, the TV and its streaming logins, the stubborn lock, the shower that needs a minute. A photo of the thermostat beats three paragraphs about it.
5. Local tips. Five to ten of your favourites, not a city guide. The bakery, the grocery store that stays open late, the place for a quiet dinner, the beach locals use, the pharmacy. One line each on why, plus walking time.
6. Transport. From the airport or station to your door and back, the nearest bus or metro stop, which taxi apps actually work in your area, parking rules (permit zones, free hours, where never to park).
7. Emergency. The local emergency number (112 across most of Europe, 911 in the US), the nearest hospital with a 24-hour emergency room, the nearest pharmacy, where the fuse box, the water shut-off and the fire extinguisher are, and your number plus a backup person.
8. Trash and recycling. Which bin takes what, collection days, where the bins live, bag colours if your town uses them. Guests want to get this right; they simply do not know the local system.
9. Extras. The things that make a stay feel generous: where the spare blankets are, umbrellas, beach towels, board games, the travel cot, the iron, the hairdryer, the first-aid kit, which capsules fit the coffee machine.
10. Contact. How to reach you, when you usually reply, who to call if you are unreachable, and which channel you prefer (the booking platform’s chat or a phone number).

Writing it so it actually gets read

Write the way you would explain things at the door, not the way a hotel writes its terms and conditions.

Keep it short. One idea per paragraph, one task per bullet. Nobody reads a wall of text with their coat still on.

Make it scannable. Use headings that match the question in the guest’s head: “Wi-Fi”, “Checkout”, “Hot water”, not “Amenities overview”.

Be specific. “Quiet after 22:00” beats “please respect the neighbours”. “The boiler switch is the red one under the sink” beats “hot water may take a moment”.

Write in the guest’s language. If a third of your bookings come from Germany, a German version is not a luxury. Even a machine translation checked by a friend is far better than none, and a page that lets guests switch language at the top is better still.

Add photos for the hard parts only: the thermostat, the key box, the bin area. Skip photos of the view; they have already seen the listing.

Binder, PDF or QR page?

Each format has an honest case, and most hosts end up with a mix.

The printed binder. Always there, works when a phone is dead, and feels personal. But it goes out of date the day the Wi-Fi password changes, the pages get sticky, guests never take it out with them, and it is one language unless you print several.

The PDF. Cheap to make from a template, and guests can read it before they travel. But by check-in day it is buried under twenty emails, reading it on a phone means pinching and zooming, every change means export and re-send, and past guests keep old copies that still contain your door code.

The QR page. A web page behind a printed code: edit it once and every guest from that moment on sees the new version, directions open in the maps app, the Wi-Fi can be joined in one tap, and several languages fit on one page. The catch is that it needs a working phone, so print the Wi-Fi details and the emergency number on the sign itself; that covers the dead-battery case.

To see the page version from the guest’s side, open the sample guest page; the guest guide page explains how it is built.

Keeping it current

A welcome book is never finished. A few habits keep it useful:

• Read your last twenty guest messages. Every question that appears twice is a missing paragraph.
• Changed the Wi-Fi password or the key-box code? Update the book in the same minute, before you forget.
• Walk through it at the start of each season: opening hours shift, the café you recommended may have closed.
• Ask a friend to do a cold read with a suitcase in hand and tell you where they got stuck.
• Put a “last checked” date at the bottom.