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Welcome to the First annual
"Worst Caravan Park Manager in Australia" Award!
(drum roll)
...and the winner is ...
Christopher Dorn
from Lake Glenbawn State Park!
Okay, I seldom feel the need to rant about poor service - well, publicly at least, but I have never encountered a worse Caravan Park Manager in my life!
Now, I realise I come from the Northern Rivers (read - lower Gold Coast) where Tourism is king and patrons are considered bread and butter and treated very well indeed, and I realise that it's not necessarily the same everywhere.
I'm not talking about staff putting up with rude people, or meeting unreasonable demands, but just plain good manners and most importantly, a friendly greeting.
In fairness to this Park, I must mention that the receptionist, Sue, was a lovely "meet and greeter". We were well into the transaction, chatting and she was giving me the info I needed about the swimming pool, and the lake, and the washing machines, etc. etc., when the manager came in and made what I took to be a joke about parking in the driveway.
This place is miles from nowhere and certainly not busy at this time of the day, and there were no signs posted saying where to park or what to do, and in my opinion, there wasn't enough road to park a caravan on other than in the boomgate drive -- and in any case, we were about to drive in.
I joked back, asking if they were expecting a tour bus or something? And he pointed out that we should never park in a driveway, it's only common sense and good manners, etc etc. By this time, I had figured out from his agressive tone that he wasn't joking, but I tried to lighten it up. I said, "Is there a queue out there waiting to get in?" and opened the door as if to check.
He started to give instructions about where to move the car, and I passed them on word for word to John in the car. John moved the car forward as requested, but the manager must have heard me echoing his tone as well as his words, because at the end of his spiel he added into the long silence, "please."
He then continued on with a list of things we were NOT to do, involving tokens and other driveways, and all manner of things that made no sense to me at this time, because I'd just walked through the door. I got a little sarcastic in return, and he left. After the bushfires, and a long, hot, stresful day, I got a little weepy.
I looked at Sue, the receptionist, and said, "Is he always like this? Or has someone just died?"
He must have heard me, because he came back in and glared at me. I told him how (nicely and without sarcasm) that I thought his people skills were seriously lacking for a tourist industry professional, and pointed out that it might be better to post a sign describing the parking regulations, and perhaps a handout with the park rules rather than an offputting diatribe.
He said he was sorry I felt that way, and walked out the door, SLAMMING IT behind him!
That was it. I would have slept on a park bench rather than stay there after that, so I asked for a refund. He came back in just long enough to glare at me and left again, slamming the door harder. I laughed, and walked over to the door he had exited. I opened it, yelled, "this is how you slam a door!" and slamed it hard enough to make the windows rattle. Okay, childish I admit, but he started it!
Anyway, I got my refund and left furiously. John went back in, ready to throttle him when he heard what had happened, but Mr tough guy apparently behaves very differently with 6 foot tall angry man. He apologised. We left. I suggest you do the same!
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