Some important advice for international travellers.

The BBQ Pit
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  1. Do, at the very least, some basic research of the place you are planning to visit, lest you show up with your surfing board in Bolivia or your skis in Denmark.

  2. When you decide on accommodation it is well advised to make sure that it is in a location that is convenient for you. If you are not sure asking is always a good idea.

  3. Do not travel with people that you don’t get along with, or worse, that you are not well-acquainted with.
    Now I’ll explain a propos of what I am writing this:

My husband and I own a small apartment in downtown Santo Domingo, we rent it on a short-term (mostly weekly) basis. It is an OK business, doesn’t take me too much of my time and it is a good source of money for me after I decided to leave my job to become a stay-at-home mom. We have an internet company that does the marketing and collection, but the actual customer service I do myself. We have a website with a lot of information on the property, so much it might even appear redundant, I just want people to understand clearly what they are renting. I take pride in conducting my business with honesty, I lose more cheating on somebody, it is not enough money to damage my reputation.

As it is something that happens very often, I always try to ascertain if any inquiries coming about the apartment are from confused tourists that think that the whole of the D.R. is a giant beach. If they still did not understand that we rent an apartment in a large capital city, I am very careful in telling them to check the website thoroughly before they make a commitment. It had always worked; until today: I got two women who showed up today convinced that they had rented a beach-front accommodation. How they reached that conclusion is well beyond my capabilities for understanding the human mind.

As soon as it became apparent to them that there wasn’t any beach nearby (although Santo Domingo is a city by the ocean we have no beaches here, the nearest one is in a different province) they told me they were leaving and asked about returning their rental money, which I had, as I always do, collected before arrival. I was adamant that I would not return their money, considering that they were mistaken through no fault of my own.

They had no idea where they were, or where to go next but one of them was pissed off and wanted to leave “right now!”, the other was embarrassed and sad for her friend. I offered to help them seek accommodation somewhere else of their liking, offered to keep the apartment available for them if they didn’t find anything they liked, told them of any possibilities they would have of finding something like what they wanted, but for the bitchy one that was not enough. While one of them started to cry I told them I would refund two days of rental but I could not do anything else as I had turned down other reservations to keep theirs. They made the reservation months ago and had more than sufficient time to research about where they were going, or ask me.

The one that was crying confided that she didn’t know her travel companion very well, and that if she had known she was like that she wouldn’t have taken that trip with her. I felt very sorry for her and even offered to send her a present, a book or something to make up for her inconvenience (of which I accepted no responsibility).

Try as I may, I can not understand how somebody just up and leaves with no idea of at least the most basic geography of the country they are visiting. They had rented a car and called me from the airport telling me that the rental company had even told them that maybe it wasn’t a good idea to rent a car. Heh!

I think our country needs a new motto: 'The Dominican Republic: It’s Not Just a Fucking Giant Beach!

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I was on a cruise once. It stopped in Dominica for a day. On our tour was a woman who asked how far it was to Santo Domingo, and whether she could visit there before the boat left.

She seemed quite perplexed when the guide explained it was about a thousand miles away and she’d have to fly. She didn’t think the island seemed that large.

So, hey, at least your guests knew what country they were in.

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The Dominican Republican is only approximately 180 miles long at its farthest points. How could Santo Domingo be any farther than this no matter where the cruise ship landed in country?

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Am I been wooshed?

Dominica (pronounced do-mi-NI-ca) =/= Dominican Republic (pronounced do-MI-ni-can). Different countries, different languages, different cultures, different islands.

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And it’s much more than 180 miles.

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But…but…but it’s in the ocean!

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I feel your pain. I used to work at hotel in an often cold, cloudy northern California beach town where even at the height of summer nobdy gets in without a wetsuit. People would ask for their money back daily because the beach was cold. I’d also get barraged with complaints on the 4th of July when there were no official fireworks displays (although, as I told them, the illegal displays up and down the beaches beat anyting a city could put on hands-down)

Hey man. I didn’t plan your vacation. It looks like you didn’t either.

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Well, it’s not like people *have *to know geography. I am OK at it because I worked for a long time in international transport, you gotta at least know that there are no ship lines calling Switzerland. What *is *stupid is to plan a vacation without knowing where you are going, and what you can do there, which is basically what’s happening here. I mean, last time I was in the US I visited Philly, I couldn’t have blamed the hotel if what I *really *wanted to see was Disney.

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Is there a Dominican Democrat as well?

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“War is God’s way of teaching Americans geography.” - Ambrose Bierce

Just be glad we have no idea where anything is over there :wink:

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I live in Key Largo, FL and when I’m at the resort bars grabbing a beer and relaxing I constantly hear people complaining that there aren’t any sand beaches on the island. You have to go up to Miami or much further down the keys to enjoy a sand beach. Why? The whole damned island is made of old coral (the living coral is a few miles offshore)- it’s like living on top of a slab of bumpy concrete. I can see why people are confused, since all of the tourism ads show the incredible diving and water sports, but sorry- no sand (unless it’s trucked in at a private resort or something). Even if you see a “beach” picture, it’s not sand, it’s white rocks. I always thought it was funny to see a brochure elsewhere advertise “sand beaches” and thought “well, what the hell other kinds are there?” Now I know! The locals refer to the island as “the rock”, as in “Man, I haven’t been off the rock on months!”

(Don’t be discouraged by this, though- the snorkeling, diving, and fishing in KL are absolutely incredible and it’s a fantastic place. Just don’t expect to spend the day walking up and down the white sandy ocean or bay beaches.)

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I am afraid some Brits are just as bad. This is a actual complaint from a holiday maker “It took us nine hours to fly to Jamaica from England - it only took the Americans three hours”

There is a load more like this here

Last year I was on a flight from the UK to the Canary Islands. The young couple sitting next to me were surprised to find the flight would take over four hours . They thought it would only take an hour. Another case of non research.

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From where I grew up in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania:
[ol]
[li]Not everyone is Amish;[/li][li]Amish and Mennonites aren’t the same thing;[/li][li]Not everything you think you know about the Amish is correct;[/li][li]This isn’t like Colonial Williamsburg; people aren’t doing charming old-timey things for your amusement.[/li][/ol]

From my adoptive country of Norway:
[ol]
[li]Not all countries in Europe are the same size - Norway is significantly larger than, say, Belgium, and I’m sorry to inform you that you cannot take a daytrip from Bergen to the North Cape;[/li][li]Thanks to the Gulf Stream, it’s not frozen here all year 'round, and the only skiing you’ll find in July is some novelty stuff on glaciers;[/li][li]On the other hand, you’re still at 60+ degrees north latitude, and the weather isn’t like it is further south - pack something besides shorts and sandals, please!;[/li][li]The North is sparsely populated, but not empty, and they’ve had roads, electricity, phones etc for decades now;[/li][li]The moose and the musk oxen are herbivores, true. They can still kill you if they want to.[/li][/ol]

I feel better now.

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I feel your pain.

As a former travel agent ( corporate stuff, I hated vacationers with a firey passion.) the dingleberries I had to encounter were enough for me.
One lady wanted to book a train trip from the Detroit to London, England. No amount of patience with the convo with her could get her to grasp the concept of the big wet blue thing between our fair countries because she saw an advert on TV for going by train to London. Explaining that it was to London, Ontario (which does not have a Big Ben unless he is a porn star and she would have to fly there.

Like a dog with a frisbee, she wouldn’t drop the notion that I didn’t know jack shit ( and I had just been in London, Ontario the month prior) and she was omnipotent.

Eventually, realizing this was not a client we wanted, I told that I would book a train for her from Windsor, Canada to Newfoundland …and she went …" And then what…"

“I hope you are a good swimmer.”
Never heard from her again.

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Then I had a very long, tedious conversation with a coworker from another job who wanted to give me business as a travel agent. I had always enjoyed working with her and she was a nice, old lady ( 40). I was 22 or so.

This was a nice hard working woman who was addicted to cigerettes ( very polite smoker, btw) and thicker than a rock at times. When we worked together she never stopped smoking. One after another. All day long. I don’t think I have ever seen someone so addicted. except for one old -in every sense- german in his late 70’s, at our shooting club who never stops smoking, looks like death is riding his back and is a living poster of just why smoking non-freaking-stop for 40-50+ years is just not a good idea. But I digress.

It was shorter after the airlines all started their No Smoking on Domestic flights. Which was a godsend, IMHO. People with asthma, CF or prone to lung ailments suffered mightily on those flights.

She wanted to fly with her family from Detroit to Orlando. But couldn’t do a nonstop because she couldn’t go 2-3 hours without a cigerette. But didn’t want to take a connection flight (allowing her to smoke at the connection airport when smoking was still allowed in airports.) because it would take half a day of a precious weeks vacation.

That was the gist of the entire 1 hour conversation of going around and around with the “Well, then take the nonstop and get there faster.”

“I can’t go that long without a smoke.” 3 hours.

“Then take the connection via Memphis.” (or atlanta or St.Louis or Chicago. All Six in one-Half dozen in the other.)

“That will take too long.” Like six and a half hours.

Lather, rinse repeat.

I finally realised I was trapped with a stupidest person on the planet and it was a shame that I use to like her, but her ignorance and addiction were too staggering of obstacles to overcome (for me. She was completely reveling in her retardedness.) and it was time to pull the pin on the grenade.

" Then I suggest you drive." (24 hours straight thru, which everyone stops somewhere in Georgia for the night. Georgia, for those of you who have never done the Holy Trip to Middle Class mecca that is Disney, is the longest freaking state to drive through on your way north from Florida. It just keeps stretching long and longer like elastic.)

“Oh, that would take too long!” :rolleyes until my optical nerve snaps.
" I can’t help you." click.

Never heard from her again and I suspect she has probably died from emphysema or lung cancer by now. ( I am the age now at the age she was at when we had our last convo and looking back on it, she already looked like Jack Palance and had the voice of one of Marge Simpson’s sisters. GAH! If that isn’t scary, I don’t know what is.)

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From here:

Regarding tourists and the stupid things they do, ask me about the fun things some of them did back in Monterey. Once, while shopping on Cannery row, I actually witnessed a tourist stop his car in the middle of the road as a fire truck, lights blinking and siren wailing, was trying to pass him. Why did the dude stop his car in front of the fire truck? To take pictures of it, of course. Luckily, there was a cop nearby who ran up to him to inform him, “Sir, this isn’t Disney Land. That truck’s on its way to a real fire. Move your car or you’ll really be under arrest.”

And then there was the brilliant couple on their honeymoon who decided it would be cool to have a photo of the wife by the sign on the rocks that says, “DANGEROUS WAVES! Stay off the rocks!” Yes, she got pulled into the ocean by one of those waves. The wife died.

And it’s not just tourists, either. One citified lady moved to the countryside way up in Northern California. She then put some very expensive fish into the rock pond in her back yard. When one of the local wildlife (IIRC, a bird) dined there, she called the Sheriff’s office. Sheriff said he couldn’t do anything about it, “wild animals sometimes eat other animals, ma’am.” The Mrs. Douglas wannabe decided the appropriate action was to replace the expensive fish with expensive fish! The aforementioned wildlife said to itself, no doubt, “Ah, seconds!” Guess what the Sherrif’s response was to the owner.

I’m a Geography geek, I guess. I love both Physical Geography and Cultural Geography. And it drives me up the wall to hear the most inane comments from my fellow Americans regarding Geography. There was one gentleman who worked with me in Monterey years ago. He was convinced that there were nine continents, although he couldn’t name them. Two he was quite sure of, though, were Central America and Greenland. His reasoning on Greenland was interesting: “Look at it on the map; it’s really big.” Evidently, the concept of the Mercator Projection was completely lost on him.

Relating to Geography, I’m still stunned that Cultural Geography wasn’t a required course for my degree in Linguistics. As it is, I took the course because I like the subject.

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I few months ago I shared a van from the airport with three hippie types who apparently came to Panama on the spur of the moment without having even glanced at a guidebook. Among other things:

  • one asked where he could exchange money, being unaware that Panama uses US currency exclusively.

  • they had never heard of Colon, Panama’s second largest city.

It makes me wonder how many people plan on going to Panama and accidentally book a trip to Panama City, Florida, then happily spend a week there without ever knowing the difference (although perhaps somewhat surprised by how many people speak perfect English).

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I met a Yorkshire girl when I was in Europe, and we wrote each other for many years afterward. When her father was made redundant from his job, he decided to travel round the world. Of course I offered him a futon in L.A. I’m afraid I disappointed him when I told him that it would be impractical to make a day-trip to visit a woman he knew in Montana.

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A few years ago a British couple ended up in Sydney Nova Scotia, instead of the one in Australia. Read about it here

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I remember 10 or 15 years ago hearing of a man who wanted to fly to Oakland, California. He discovered after take-off that the plane was headed to Aukland.