I stayed in a tiny home Airbnb with a litter box for a toilet, and it was better than most hotels

Just 30 minutes outside Portland, Oregon, is a collection of five tiny houses called My Tiny House Village. Stays start at $65 a night, and the village lets you experience the craze of tiny living for yourself.

My partner Dan and I recently got engaged in Oregon during a cross-country road trip. A few days after Dan proposed, we stayed in one of these tiny houses.

My Tiny House Village is owned by Michelle Boyle, who lives in a tiny house herself on the next-door property. Boyle originally moved into a tiny house in 2015 to save money for retirement as a single mom.

Her own tiny house was featured in the 2016 House Beautiful Magazine as one of the year's most popular houses.

With this success, and the help of local and national sponsors, Boyle ended up designing and building the five additional tiny houses which she now rents out on Airbnb.

Dan and I always like staying in unique places. The idea of sleeping in a tiny house village sounded very quaint with a touch of the unusual, which is just our style.

We'd also recently quit our jobs and were gearing up for a year of backpacking. I have a lot of belongings and wondered whether tiny living could help me learn to live out of a backpack.

There was also the prospect of living in tight quarters with my partner, when we'd previously been in an international long-distance relationship and were now going to be together 24/7. Renting a tiny house for a couple days seemed like a good way to test things out.

The first day of our tiny house rental, Dan and I drove out of Portland to the rural Tualatin Valley. We spent the afternoon going to a couple wine tastings before self-checking into our tiny house in the evening.

Check-in is between 4 p.m. and 8 p.m. to limit noise for the neighbors. We drove down the long, bumpy driveway at about 5 mph and then turned right at the end when we saw the tiny houses. We stayed in "My Tiny Wine Wagon," which was all lit up and ready for our arrival.

My first impression was that the tiny house was more spacious than I expected. There's a high vaulted ceiling (with a wine glass chandelier made by Boyle), which makes it feel bigger than it is.

I was also surprised by how well-equipped the kitchen was. On one side was a mini fridge and freezer, a coffee maker, and snacks Boyle left for us. There was also space to store our suitcases and shoes.

On the other side was a sink, a two-burner stove with a kettle, a magnetic knife rack, and shelves with all the bowls, plates, and cups that we would need.

I immediately went to check out the bathroom. This was a small room with a locking door at one end of the tiny house.

Boyle had already warned us about the "cedar loo-style toilet." This consisted of a wooden box with a plastic bag-lined bucket in it. Next to it was a small bin of cedar chippings.

According to the instructions in the house, we were supposed to use the box like a toilet, then layer cedar chippings on top of our business. This would supposedly help with the smell.

Every day, we had to tie up the bag and empty it in a designated trash can outside. Boyle pre-lined the bucket with plenty of bags for our stay.

Dan and I had to agree to using the toilet as instructed or potentially pay a $150 sanitation fee. We were motivated not to pay $150, but also motivated not to overfill a non-flushing toilet in a tiny house we'd be staying in for two days.

The other interesting part of the bathroom was the outdoor shower. We thought it might be too cold to shower outside, but the water was hot and the pressure was great. In fact, it was peaceful to listen to the frogs and crickets at night.

We had two beds: a queen and a twin lofted above it perpendicularly. We slept in the queen and put some of our luggage on the twin, which would be great for people traveling with children.

When morning came around, Dan made coffee for us. The stove was easy to work and he even kindly brought me coffee in bed.

The romance did wane a bit when we had the inaugural use of the cedar-loo toilet. We were apprehensive but ended up being surprised by how good the chippings smelled — and how effectively they covered other smells.

We spent most of the day exploring the nearby area, including a food market in Beaverton, two more wineries, and some nature preserves. We also decided to eat dinner at an Italian restaurant. This was because we didn't feel like cooking, rather than because of the size of our tiny house's kitchen.

We returned to the tiny house that evening, and it was once again all lit up with twinkling lights. After taking our outdoor showers and having hot cups of tea, we got into our queen bed.

The next morning, we had a leisurely start with coffee out on the big wooden front porch. We thought there were other guests at the neighboring tiny houses, but we didn't see them.

Dan was gallant enough to deal with the cedar loo, which essentially involved tying the bag in a knot and carrying it out to the trash can. We packed up our belongings, did a little cleaning, and got ready for self-check out.

As we drove away, we agreed we'd definitely stay in a tiny house again while traveling. The name "tiny" is almost a misnomer, because compared to most hotel rooms, we actually found it more spacious with more kitchen amenities.

Part of our great experience could have been the unusual sunny Oregon weather. We had space to spread out on the porch, and we explored to avoid cabin fever. The only truly unusual aspect was the toilet, which we just took as a quirk of tiny living.

However, we also agreed that while it was great for a couple days, I'm not sure either of us would want to live the cedar-loo lifestyle long term. The outdoor shower, though, wouldn't be a sacrifice.

All in all, renting a tiny house for a couple days was a great option for us, and anyone else in our boat who wants to try out this style of living without actually committing to it. We'll leave the commitment to entrepreneurs like Boyle.