Guest entry by Natalie

“All you need is love.”

This is the slogan for Sandals, an all-inclusive resort chain with multiple locations in the Carribean. After Tony and I had a wedding reception here in the ‘States, we decided to head to the Bahamas for a six night trip. So off to Sandals’ “Royal Bahamian” we went.

Sandals paints a picture of a romantic getaway, where your every whim is catered to, your surroundings are lush and relaxing, and you get to dine in fabulous restaurants that are included in the price of your trip. It’s all perfect, luxurious, heaven-on-earth. All YOU need to do, sayeth the Sandals ads, is bring yourselves and the fact that you love one another. Every other possible thing you could want awaits you.

Now, I remember from my college courses in marketing that with advertising it is acceptable to exaggerate the truth. There is a concept called “puffing” that means, in my recollection, that everyone expects an advertisement to stretch reality a bit. If puffing is acceptable, then Sandals’ version of its “resort” was more like a tornado-force wind.

Sandals’ website says things like:

“. . . you step from your chauffeur driven Mercedes-Benz and cross the threshold of the marble-clad lobby, you enter a world of unbelievable splendor. . . Your slightest whim is catered to with unstinting attention and warmth.”

“More than half the resort is comprised of lavish suites, each boasting the finest designer details and graciously accompanied by upgraded amenities . . . unequaled majesty . . . elegant suites that give a whole new meaning to the word perfection . . .”

“Dine in splendid style as you choose from eight gourmet restaurants— a dazzling lineup unheard of in an all-inclusive resort.”

Okay—you get the idea. But here’s the truth. As Tony remarked, this resort was likely in its heyday in about 1984. It hasn’t been remodeled since. The beach was really tiny, so you couldn’t walk along it for more than about 25 seconds. Of the restaurants, only two were
open each day for breakfast and lunch. And it was the same two restaurants for lunch and breakfast each day. One was a lame buffet and the other was like a cafeteria of fried foods under heat lamps and skinny hamburgers that had breadcrumbs in them to stretch their budget.

Our room hadn’t been updated or upgraded in a very, very long time. It smelled like smoke and mildew, and the tub and sink were stained. I don’t remember ever staying in a nice hotel where the tub or sink looked dirty. The king-sized bed had three tiny pillows on it, and the comforter was a flimsy, old-looking thing that we thought looked like it was bought at Zayre’s going out of business sale. The most updated thing in the room was the VCR, but even that didn’t look as new as the 8-year old VCR we just sold at our yard sale last weekend (for $1).

Sandals said it owned an island just half a mile from the resort, like two vacations in one they said! On the short boat ride there, we were told to stay on one small side of the island because the rest was for cruise ship passengers. They got to jet ski and do all sorts of things. I got to go out on the beach with Tony and get consumed by sand fleas in the middle of the afternoon! I was only out there for about five minutes and got dozens of bites. The bite marks lasted for days after we got home and I was convinced for a day that they had traveled back with us, or that the hotel had given us bed bugs.

Okay, I could go on and on, really! There was so much there to complain about or pick on. But Tony and I managed to laugh about almost all of it. The fact that they took thousands of dollars from us isn’t funny. But just about everything else about it was. We referred to the “conceirge”, who never had any answers and always just told us to go across the resort to the main hotel building, as a “noncierge.” We cracked up every time we said it. After a few days of the gross breakfast and lunch, we ate granola bars to hold us over until dinner, and they tasted really good. When we caught one day of rainy weather due to Hurricane Ernesto, we watched a bunch of “Everybody Loves Raymond” reruns in our room and laughed out loud.

So, there was just one part of Sandals’ ads that was true—the “all you need is love” slogan. But it wasn’t true the way Sandals intended.