For the past few years, I’ve reserved a condo on the Alabama Gulf Coast and taken my (grown) children there as a family vacation. It’s usually a pretty relaxing and fun time.
This year, though … this year it’s been challenging. And we haven’t even gone yet.
I booked a condo in February for August 2 - 7. In the past, I’ve always booked directly with the condo leasing agency. This time around, though, they weren’t showing a ton of available condos, which surprised me. One of my kids suggested going through Airbnb instead, so I did … and lo and behold, there were a multitude of options. (Apparently owners have migrated away from the leasing agency and have started going to Airbnb to offer their condos.)
So, I find one that looks good, pay the half-up-front deposit, and don’t think much more about it. A few days later I got a message from the leasing company who manages that particular condo: Vacasa.
(In hindsight, I should have known this wasn’t going to end well. I mean … “Vacasa”? That name just SOUNDS evil, right? Like it ought to be one of the minor villains in a Marvel movie. Somebody Thor defeats on his way to fight the REALLY bad guy.)
Anyway, Vacasa lets me know they manage the condo I rented, and they’ll be messaging me about it from time to time, and I ought to do nothing for the next six months but sit back and relax and imagine all the fun I’ll have in this condo.
In mid-June, they automatically bill me for the remaining half of the condo rental. I pay it, and all is well; nothing stands between us and a relaxing beach trip but the few remaining weeks until August 2.
(“That’s what YOU think, Thor! You didn’t count on the mighty Vacasa! Take that!”)
So. Tuesday night, July 26. Beach trip is officially one week away. I get an email. From Vacasa.
It seems the condo I’d rented is experiencing HVAC issues. Vacasa (in the form of Jasmine, their helpful agent) is letting me know about this, and offering to do whatever they can to make it right. They have helpfully made another reservation for me at another condo, and all I have to do is agree to use that condo instead of the one I’d originally rented. Or they will work with me to find another suitable condo. Or we can move our trip dates to a later time and stay in the original condo, assuming the HVAC issues are resolved. Or they can give me a refund.
All this sounds pretty neato-keen, right? In fact, as Jasmine cheerfully noted, the new condo they’ve reserved for me normally costs about 25% more than what I originally paid, but because they’re such nice folks they’ll just eat that cost to help me out. They’re obviously bending over backwards. How nice.
I take a look at the new condo they’re recommending. It’s good, for the most part, but it’s lacking some things we really wanted:
- It’s not beachfront. We’d have to cross a highway to get to the beach.
- It doesn’t have a lazy river.
- It doesn’t have an outdoor pool. It DOES have an indoor pool, though.
So I reply, and thank them for the disappointing news. I also point out the amenities we’re losing as a result of the new condo they’re recommending. And because I’m sometimes a jerk, I noted that I’ve done a price comparison for the new condo vs. the old condo by plugging in various five-day stays in their booking engine for both. In every single instance, the new condo is about 30% LESS expensive than the one I’d originally booked, not MORE expensive (as they say).
Wednesday afternoon (with my trip now six days away), I get a reply. This one is from Haven; apparently I offended Jasmine in some way. Haven tells me the new condo is indeed 25% more than the old one, and I need to either move my reservation or cancel it.
Gone is the “we’ll help you find another option if this one doesn’t work.” Gone is “we can move your trip to another series of days while we resolve the HVAC issue.” Now it’s just “take what we’re offering you or cancel.”
So I reply to Haven. I’ve done some research, and (wonder of wonders, because we’re in the height of the Gulf Coast tourist season) I’ve found a couple of beachfront condos still available with the same amenities as the original. Best of all, while these are slightly more expensive than the original condo, they’re not 25% more. I suggest to Haven that Vacasa just move my reservation to one of those two options; that way, they’re still keeping me as a (relatively) happy customer AND it’s not costing them as much as the condo they proposed.
Wednesday night, I get a reply. This one is from Kayla. She reiterates how nice Vacasa is being by offering me a condo that’s 25% higher than my original booking. She also says there’s no question about the rate difference, and she doesn’t know where I got my price information. I need to let her know ASAP if I want the new condo, or if I want to just cancel my reservation.
So in my response, I tell her:
- I got the rate information from their site
- I offered two options that are less expensive than the price they’re quoting for the new condo (even though they’re going to be nice and cover the additional cost)
- I’d prefer one of those two options, because they have more of the amenities I wanted when I first booked this trip in February
This morning (Thursday – the trip is now five days away) I get an email, this one from Kelly. She tells me Vacasa doesn’t manage the two condos I’d suggested, so they can’t book them. I can either take the condo they offered or cancel my reservation.
To quote Foghorn Leghorn, after a bomb blew up in his face: “Fortunately, I keep my feathers numbered, for just such an occasion.”
I had the booking site for the other two condos pulled up already, and had been refreshing the availability screen regularly waiting for Vacasa’s reply. Once I saw Kelly’s email come through, I immediately booked one of the condos. Then I replied to Kelly (with likely more malice than was required) to tell her to cancel my reservation.
The best part? The condo I booked was actually slightly cheaper, because it was a last-minute deal.
Airbnb reached out to me this afternoon to apologize for the whole brouhaha. (You’ll recall that Vacasa was essentially a third-party vendor to this transaction; it all started with Airbnb.) They’ve offered a coupon worth several hundred dollars for a future booking if I’ll use them again. Which I will, for a trip we’re taking in October.
But Vacasa ain’t gettin’ NOTHIN’ from me again. Except scorn, and possibly a loogie as I drive past their offices on my way to the condo next week.