Vacation clubs–travel clubs–or whatever they’re going by these days to avoid the tainted “travel club” label, ought to immediately remove journalists from their lists of people they’re planning to scam with the offer of a “complimentary vacation.” Because when writers get taken for a ride-and it turns out not to be the free ride on a luxurious cruise ship they were promised–they don’t just get mad, they write about it. Here’s our story. Don’t let it be yours.
My husband and I had always scoffed at the postcards that arrived in the mail inviting us to attend one travel seminar or another in exchange for a “complimentary” vacation or cruise. After all, we were savvy ex-New Yorkers. We had heard it all and seen it all, and nobody was going to take advantage of us. We were educated, and skilled, and worldly. But after years of spending our hard-earned dollars renovating our South Florida home, we were also exhausted, in desperate need of a vacation, and maybe a little vulnerable. This time, the free cruise offer sounded good and we called to reserve our “spot” at the seminar.
We drove to the specified location laughing and joking with each about practicing the word “no.” We suspected we might have to survive some high-pressure sales tactics in order to “earn” our free cruise. But we had lasted through a lengthy time-share presentation in Orlando once, and gotten free tickets to a theme park, no problem.
As we pulled into the strip mall in Coral Springs on a steamy Sunday afternoon, the parking lot was deserted as most of the businesses were closed, except for a “travel agency” housed in a store front. A receptionist greeted us and asked us to be seated in the cool waiting room. The walls were covered with framed travel posters, many of them promoting resorts in Mexico. W were soon whisked away into a dimly lit room, and offered coffee, cute little cookies, and fresh-made popcorn along the way. Aww. What nice people!
Inside, tables-for-two filled up with couples. A handsome man walked to the front and asked about our occupations. There was a sociologist, a genetics engineer, a college professor and a retired executive, among the group. An impressive bunch, no doubt.
The presenter led a discussion on travel, and as the roomful of participants shared where they had been, the excitement mounted. He told the group he was the son of a missionary (aw), and had traveled extensively. He presented the company’s credentials, in case anyone had any doubts (in retrospect, credentials are meaningless without a reference point, and we had no reference point). He showed slides of exotic destinations–Africa, Europe, Mexico, Australia, Hawaii. His own wedding, he said, would one day take place in Tahiti. He involved everyone in lively discussions about the places they had been, and asked how much they expected to pay to spend a week here, or a week there. Then he showed how little we would pay to stay in these places as members of “the club.” Example after example after example showed how we would save up to 70% on travels all over the world. The offer to join at the Gold level would only be available to three lucky couples, and only today. The first couple to join would get the free cruise (which everyone was told they would receive whether they joined or not), plus, a complimentary stay at a resort in Mexico, and an upgrade to an even higher membership level.
Somewhere between Tahiti and New Zealand, my husband and I took leave of our senses. I still don’t know how it happened. We were tired. We were vulnerable. We wanted to be able to afford to see the world. We weren’t the first couple to sign up to pay $7,900 for membership; we were the second. We managed to “negotiate” for the same “extras” that had been offered to the first couple. Our salesperson went to “talk to the manager,” then came back and agreed. It was just like buying a car.
Soon we were in a brightly lit office filling out paperwork. We would travel at great discounts from now on. We agreed to a nonrefundable processing fee of $495. We were told that if we were “prone to buyer’s remorse” that we should not do this (aw). Does anyone really know that they are prone to buyer’s remorse? My husband asked if we could see the web site that listed all the resorts available at these great savings rather than just the sampling they had shown. We were told the list was proprietary and that you had to be a member to access it (ding-ding). I thought I heard a warning bell go off.
We paid the $495 by check, and were handed over to a finance person who managed to make quickwork of obtaining financing (at 24.99%) for us (ding-ding). We signed the paperwork and were handed a slick book filled with a “sampling” of the destinations available (all could be found on the web site once our membership went through).
That evening, as we flipped through the book of “grand getaways,” visions of Victoria Falls, African safaris, gorgeous tropical beaches and the powdery white ski slopes of Vail all danced in our heads. Until my husband said, “This book is all dog-earned, and some of the pages are falling out. Look, the tabs are torn, and the book is stained. A lot of people must have returned it.” Dead silence, then the alarm went off. We may have taken a temporary vacation from our senses, but hadn’t left them behind entirely. We had just purchased $7,900 worth of thin air, without even an airplane slicing through it. No guarantees, no promises, not even a complete list of offerings!
I raced to research the company in particular, and travel clubs in general. I knew that, by law, we had three days to rescind our offer. The more I read, the more nervous I became. And the sicker I felt knowing that, even if we could get our money back, we were still out $500! Over the next couple of days I found out that with the worst vacation clubs, the resorts and travel days requested were never available. The one we were dealing was high on the list of rip-off companies. I quickly wrote and sent by certified mail the letter canceling our membership; I also sent an email to the company, and left a telephone message so there would be no doubt the cancellation was made within the legal three-day recission period.
I received a phone call acknowledging the cancellation. Then another call came from corporate headquarters, offering us the same package for half the price. When we pressed for more details about what we had bought, they gave us access to the web site. No surprise-when I tried to sign on, it was not available. We pursued our cancellation and were told that, before the contract could be voided, we would have to return the materials-the ripped and stained book that had first queued us in that something was rotten in Denmark. The only time they could make available to us to return the materials was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, necessitating my husband and me to take time off of work. So much for the convenient Sunday hours they had used to bait us!
When we returned the materials, we were told that we would have to forfeit the $495, but that we could keep the “free cruise” as well as an offer for $100 in free gasoline. We figured that would “make up” for the $495. That was last October. It’s almost May now. The gas offer required that you turn in receipts for no more than $10 at a time, and had ridiculous time lines associated with it. But we followed the instructions meticulously. We have not yet seen the first $10, let alone the $100 worth of rebates.
The free cruise proved even more elusive. I filled out cumbersome paperwork three times already. The requirements included that we select a cruise that was at least 90 days away, and that the selected dates (you could write in two) be a minimum of 30 days apart. There were no dates to choose from-just a request that you fill in the form with a request date of your choosing. Each time, I received a notice that the date and/or cruise was not available. I thought I would outsmart them the second time and sent my form back with a note that said we would accept any available date out of Miami. We received a form back listing reasons they could not accommodate our request. Among them, “The date(s) requested were too far in advance,” “The Planning Form was not filled out correctly,” and “Selected port location(s) was sold out for the dates requested.” However, we got the box checked: “Specific dates were not chosen for the departure date.” At the end of the rejection form, a paragraph stated that, “due to the inconvenience of not being able to process your travel request at this time, we have included a special exchange promotion that we are only offering to specific customers.” Attached was an offer to “Upgrade Your Vacation Adventure!” with further horrendous offers and paperwork to fill out. I simply filled out the new form they had sent me and continue to wait for the free cruise to come true.
Meantime, it got worse. When I received the bank statement showing the line of credit that the membership had been placed on, I expected to see the full amount of credit. Instead, there were several hundred dollars missing from the total. To make a long story short, I had to deal with the bank’s fraud department to get that straightened out as well.
As it turns out, hundreds of complaints against such companies were logged by the state of Florida’s consumer services division in 2007, triple the amount from the previous year. Half of them were against the company we had dealt with. On a federal level, the Federal Trade Commission logged 14,903 complaints against travel, vacation and time share offers last year. Here are some tips to remember if you plan to attend any travel club presentations.
1. Don’t bring your checkbook or a credit card. Any legitimate offer won’t be here today and gone on vacation tomorrow. That way, you won’t be tempted and can’t be pressed into signing up immediately. If it’s a legitimate offer, think it through, research the company, and then go ahead and make the purchase after a cooling-off period if you feel the company is legitimate.
2. Free rarely is free. One vacation club argued that they used the word “complimentary” because it did not mean free. In my book it means free, and in State of Florida legal terminology, the terms are interchangeable, according to the office of the Attorney General. “Complimentary” is defined as “given free as a courtesy or favor.” Either way, get in writing what costs will be covered and what will not.
3. Pay with a credit card which is helpful if you need to dispute charges.
4. Read the contract carefully. In some cases, you may be signing away your right to rescind your offer (which is probably not legal anyway, from what I’ve read). But if you even think you can’t rescind your offer, you won’t try to and could miss the 3-day window allowed by law.
5. Finally, remember the old adage, “If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.”
Happy travels out there!
