Several years ago when I was about fifteen my mum and her friends had rented a holiday house down in Onemana (pictured above) on the Coromandel for a week over Christmas and New Year. As mum's friends were working late on Christmas Eve, mum drove me and their two kids down to Onemana so that we arrived there early evening. This was in the days before the Internet so I am not sure how they found the house to rent - probably through an ad in the newspaper.
Anyway, the directions were to drive to the top of the hill and it was the house with a red roof with a water tank behind it. We arrived early evening and found the house. But, the key they had sent to us didn't fit the door. No problem, we climbed up onto a balcony and found that the door there was unlocked so we let ourselves in. The house configuration didn't quite match our expectations so we rearranged a bit of the furniture then us kids went to sleep. Mum's friends arrived down later that evening and chopped down a pine tree in the back yard (as you do!) and decorated it with Christmas ornaments.
The next day we unwrapped all of our presents in the morning and then the parents stuck the turkey in the oven and set about prepping all the vegetables while us kids went down the road for a swim.
As we were walking back up the hill after our swim we were talking about how the house didn't really match up to the description. We then pointed out another house and said that place could just as easily be the house that was described in the letter from the owner. It had a red roof. A water tank behind the house. And was up the top of the hill. About four doors down from the place we were in.
We got home and pointed the other house out to our parents. Mum's friend went down the road with the key and found that it fit in the door. After a few moments of hysteria (laughter and panic!) - we quickly began packing up the house we had effectively broken in to. We rearranged the furniture as best we could and frantically tried to transfer all of our belongings to the house down the road. There was the turkey and vegetables mid-way through cooking - these had to be transferred to new roasting trays at the other place. There were all the presents that had been unwrapped. All of the groceries, clothes, beach towels etc. We carried the Christmas tree down the road with ornaments flying off in every direction as we raced past the bewildered neighbours who had now come out to see what was happening.
As it happened the owners of the first house turned up later that afternoon and were quite forgiving of the situation. I wrote up the story of our holiday when I got back to school the next year and my teacher told me that we were supposed to write about our actual holidays - not fiction. You wouldn't think it could happen. Perhaps, now in the age of the Internet it wouldn't. But, today's post is saying that something as basic as an address should be a holiday rental essential.
This year when we rented a place in Ibiza, the 'address' was something like: "drive to San Jose, turn right, go for about 1km to the 2nd rubbish bin, turn up the gravel road and there will be a handwritten signpost for the house (Casa Vino Tinto)". We had hoped to be able to just use taxis and not get a rental car for the trip, but upon arrival in Ibiza it was immediately apparent that we had to organise a car. There was no way we could order taxis to collect us from there if we wanted to go out to the beach or a restaurant.
So, as simple as it seems I would say that a proper address (I like the one below) and clear directions and a map should be a holiday rental essential. If a place is off the beaten track and doesn't have an official address, it would be really useful to have a detailed map, GPS coordinates and/or a couple of local taxi drivers who know how to find it.
As a side note on directions I would say that it is good to be aware of different terminology. A guy working at the Orbit In in Palm Springs told us that British people were confused when he gave them the security code for the gate and he said to press the numerical code in followed by the pound key. But, by pound he meant like a tic tac toe board, not the currency symbol. We told him that in the UK we call that the hash key. And the game is called noughts and crosses. Funny!
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