When we arrived, in Enrique's apartment's frankly frightening, run-down neighbourhood (we saw rats), we spent a while unable to figure out the door; Enrique wasn't available on the phone. In fact, we never heard from him, except for when he and/or his (SENSITIVE CONTENTS HIDDEN) got home at 430am. It would appear he sleeps on the couch when he rents out his room.
The door handle to his room fell off when we got in. The BO stink of the room is almost covered by the cigarette stink, and you don't immediately notice the mould pattern over the curtain in the bedroom, which is otherwise so cluttered you don't have room to unpack. Instructions are written in Spanish with the explanation, "No time to translate to English!". The walls are covered in kitsch.
The bathtub jets doesn't work, like the wifi. The bathroom is as cluttered as the bedroom with dusty shower products and gnawed-up toothbrushes. The shower grouting is mouldy and crud comes off when you shower, which results in water all over the room. There's no ventilation. The door doesn't lock and the toilet seat was a balancing act. If you hang your towel there to dry, someone will use it.
The doors to all the rooms are kitschily covered in various weird, hanging sheets, so no natural light comes through. The hallway is as cluttered as everything else.
Every surface of the kitchen in its entirety is covered in a fine sheen of dusty grease, including your hands if you touch anything. Even the ceiling has stains. The dishwasher smells like putrefying roadkill. You can smell it while it's shut. Some of the crockery is broken but still in use. Instead of a garbage bin there is a full garbage bag lying on the ground. The countertops are cluttered with everything imaginable. The table is mercifully free of grime because it has a tacky plastic cloth over it--which is grimy. Keep your voice down at breakfast so as not to wake your host on the couch next to you.
This was a disturbing experience. Avoid.