This is not the blitz. We have not been evacuated.
We just came back from a week’s holiday on a farm in the cotswolds. The cottage we booked was a converted dairy barn with a wall of big windows and three bedrooms. There was one problem. When we arrived we were shown into another end of the converted barn with almost no windows and two bedrooms. The cottage we had booked was not available. Other people were staying in it. We were not happy.
The manager was semi-aplogetic. He made a call to the owner to see what could be done. Nothing. He asked us to stay where we were for the night and speak to the owner in the morning when she was at the farm.
We went to bed thinking we would sort it out in the morning, get a fair bit of our money back and get on with enjoying our stay, even though the accomodation wasn’t as good as we wanted.
In the morning the owner did not come to see us. By the time I went looking for her she was gone. She did tell the manager that there would be no compensation for us.
Later in the afternoon, when we were somewhere with a phone signal, I called her. She explained to me that when we changed the date of our holiday – something a school schedule prompted this; she seemed very accomdating at the time – she had mentioned a cottage was available, but she didn’t say it was a different cottage because I didn’t seem interested. She corrected me when I told her that the two cottages were qualitatively different. She complained to me about how she lost a week of income because we booked from Friday to Friday instead of Saturday to Saturday – nevermind that she offered it to me. She complained more about how I took so long to confirm the date change by post – nevermind that she didn’t tell me that this was more important to her booking process than just record-keeping. She boasted to me about what a good job she was doing to make our holiday nice. She scolded me in tones of a teacher disappointed with a young student for even calling her instead of just getting on with our holiday. She finished by hoping (her voice sounded more like expecting) that when she came back to the farm later in the week that we would be enjoying ourselves instead of moping around. She pettily offered £10 back because our cottage was a bit cheaper.
Explain. Correct. Complain. Complain. Boast. Scold. Hope. Pettiness. I was glad get be off the phone!
One simple thing could have prevented this situation: One piece of information. The owner could have told me that if we changed dates we would have to change cottages.
Another simple thing could have fixed it: Mr Gill, so I’m sorry for the mix-up. What can I do to make this right?
If she had done that, she would have had fans. We would have come back. As it is she held on to a few pounds, sent our estimation of her into the cellar, and earned a letter to the local tourist board.
There are two lessons here for me and the rest of us.
1. Information is power. Power is better shared.
2. Saying, I’m sorry, and meaning it works wonders. Remember what my dad says: You don’t have to be wrong to apologise. Sometimes – a lot of the time – it is about understanding someone else’s pain.
(The rest of the holiday was lovely.)
6 December 2008 Jeff Gill
tags: communication,
failure,
humans
blog comments powered by Disqus