I really should take more notice of online reviews.
These days they are “a big thing”, I’m told. I am probably put off using them myself because (a) I already fritter away too much of my precious time wandering about online and (b) I am put off the subject by the incessant requests from any service I use to give them some feedback or a review online.
“Please tell us about your recent experience at (for example) Marks & Spencer…” Well, no, I won’t because I can’t be bothered, I haven’t the time, there is nothing in it for me, and it wasn’t “an experience”. I just popped in to buy a bottle of milk. That is not my idea of an experience. And stop harassing me.”
The other one that really annoys me is when I have waited on the phone for about 35 minutes to talk with a so-called “helpline”. Usually my issue is resolved with a couple of minutes, leaving me annoyed at the waste of my time. Then within about 90 seconds of me hanging up a text arrives: “We would value your feedback on how we can improve our helpline service. Please complete this short survey.”
No! Enough! I have already given you too much of my remaining time on earth. Hire some more call centre staff!
I admit I do occasionally look at reviews in Argos when I am buying some routine household appliance like a bedside alarm clock or a new steam iron. I even spend far too much time on this simple task, however, simply because I become fascinated by how many reviews there are and the detail some customers put into them. Have they got nothing better to do with their time, I wonder.
What are your likes and dislikes about online reviews? Do they actually make a significant difference to your purchasing habits, or if you are on the receiving end, how do they affect your business?
The topic is in my mind because I was rudely reminded of the usefulness of online reviews somewhat belatedly recently when on a holiday in south-west France. My wife Jane and I, plus our two whippets, had driven 1,100 miles from our home in Northumberland to near the France-Spain border for what was supposed to be a 9-day stay at the house of some friends.
After a two-day drive, we arrived on Friday, April 19 and discovered the car’s gearbox had packed up. I could not get my estate car into reverse. On the morning of Saturday, April 20 I called up the RAC European Breakdown service I had insured us with and things smoothly went into action.
The car was collected by a local breakdown truck within an hour or so and a taxi was arranged to take me to the town of Bayonne, about 25 minutes from the house, to pick up a rental car. On Tuesday 23rd the breakdown people called me and said they’d found a garage in Biarritz called Crosa that could replace the gearbox, but the job could not be done until Friday, May 3.
Knowing how busy UK garages are, this seemed reasonable enough. It meant we would have to prolong our holiday by a week, but our friends in England were OK with that as the house was not rented out until Wednesday, May 8. Jane was due back at work on Thursday, 2nd May, but her boss was fine with her adding that day and Friday 3rd to her break.
When we got the car on Friday 3rd, by putting out foot down, we could get back to northern England in two days, so Jane could go to work on Monday, May 6th. No problem!
I was very impressed with the service from Opteven, the RAC’s agent in Europe, which is based in Lyon in northern France. Over my stay I spoke with what proved to be a large number of young people who spoke excellent English and who seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation. They called back when they said they would – always a welcome response – and seemed genuinely eager to help.
Our holiday went well. On Wednesday, May 1 I asked Opteven to check with the garage that the car would be ready by Friday afternoon. The garage confirmed it would be, so I drove to the car rental office in Bayonne, dropped off the car that had served us so well, and took a taxi (efficiently arranged by Opteven) for the 25-minute drive further south to Biarritz, arriving at the garage on May 3rd about 4.45pm.
Alas, this is when, literally, the wheels came off my story. My car was still up on a high hydraulic lift in the workshop and the gearbox was in pieces on the floor. It – and us – was going nowhere. A woman in the garage office spoke good English and told me they had discovered a second problem having dismantled the engine. The part they required for that second repair had not arrived. It would arrive on Monday.
The woman was polite enough in her apologies but any sense of urgency was distinctly lacking. I could not say they were overly concerned at my plight.
Annoyingly, she had my mobile number from Opteven but had not thought of calling me to give me the depressing update. The upshot was I had to hurriedly get back to Bayonne to get another hire car for the weekend.
Things took another turn for the worse when the first taxi arranged by Opteven did not turn up. Finally another one arrived about 5.40pm and the driver told me we would have problems to getting through the Friday traffic to get to the Bayonne office by 6pm. Showing excellent initiative, he got me there by driving illegally down a long bus lane to overtake the rush-hour jam.
Into my second hire car, I got back to the house and Jane started looking online for a flight home. With no car her holiday definitely was over and she had to be at work on the following Monday. On Saturday, May 4th Jane, carrying minimal luggage, flew from Biarritz to Gatwick, crossed London to Kings Cross and took the train north. A friend picked her up at Berwick station and she was home by Saturday night.
The dogs and I, meanwhile, enjoyed an unexpected extra weekend in the lovely Pays-Basque countryside.
Our relaxing vacation became anything but on Monday, May 6th when, unbelievably, Crosa let me down again. Same thing as on Friday – I dropped the hire car off in Bayonne in the late afternoon, took a taxi to Biarritz and found my car still in pieces. This time, I was told, the part had arrived but it had broken while being fitted. It would be definitely ready on Tuesday. Definitely.
I took a taxi back to the house – as no hire car was available this time – and asked Jean-Louis, a French friend of my friends, to call up the garage, just to make sure I was not being fobbed off as an annoying foreigner.
Jean-Louis confirmed that Crosa said they wanted to get the car back to me by Tuesday afternoon and they were going to work late to ensure that happened. He agreed to drive me the 40 minutes or so to the garage to pick it up.
We never made that journey because around 5.30pm he called the garage and they admitted it would not be ready. This time the excuse was something to do with a part not fitting correctly.
How about it being ready for Wednesday, I wondered. No chance I was told, as Wednesday and Thursday, 8th and 9th May, were public holidays in France and most businesses, including the repair shop, were closed.
“You are discovering about French garages’ promises…,” Jean-Louis said ruefully.
My relaxing holiday was becoming much less relaxing. It was Tuesday evening and I had to be out of my friends’ house by the afternoon of Wednesday. I had all our luggage, two dogs and the contents of our estate car. I had no hire car. I had nowhere to stay and the ever-reliable Opteven admitted they would be unable to provide their usual prompt service of finding me a car or an hotel because of the high volume of calls during the public holidays.
They did, however, inform me that I was free to try to find a hire car office that was open and find suitable accommodation, then reclaim the costs under my policy. In a rare and welcome turn of luck, I managed to find the last hire car at Biarritz airport and found one place for Wednesday night only and then another small hotel near Biarritz for what I hoped would be Thursday night only.
The supportive Jean-Louis kindly drove me to the airport to get the car, I removed all my stuff from our friends’ house and I pottered around for the two public holidays on Wednesday and Thursday.
Friday arrived. By now I was taking the initiative and phoning Crosa. Despite the assurances of Tuesday, I was told the car would not be ready on Friday. The chief mechanic was not even working that day. I actually cannot recall the excuse this time – something to do with the gearbox not going back together correctly. Or maybe it was a part been delivered incomplete…
So, after a week of broken promises, I was on my second unplanned extra weekend in south-west France. On Saturday I visited the charming village of Espelette, the pimento capital of the region. Buying some local saucisson from a stall in the street, I opened my wallet and the salesman saw I had the bright yellow card of Crosa at the front of it.
He pointed at it and burst out laughing. What was the problem, I asked, did they have a bad reputation? “Crosa? You only use them once! Terrible,” was his depressing response as he laughed again,
Back at the lovely little country hotel where I had extended my stay for the weekend, I did what I virtually never do. I went on to Google Reviews and was confronted by a lengthy list of complaints about Crosa.
The one headed “Quite possibly the worst garage on the planet” pretty much summed the experience of many (but admittedly not all). That reviewer continued:
“Barefaced liars even in front of your face. Don’t know how to diagnose a fault. Constantly interrupt your explanation of the problem. Lie about work carried out on your vehicle. Rude & have severe lack of communication. Take soooooo much time making up faults and stories about your vehicle.
“Then, they charge you for it. Absolute cheek of a place and after reading the reviews I can see I am not the first and I may not be the last. Absolutely avoid at all costs.”
Suddenly my entire wretched experience of the past week became clear. My naïve willingness to give Crosa the benefit of the doubt for their constant stream of excuses was undermined. I wondered if the garage ever read the online comments. And if they cared about them. I also wondered if I’d ever get my car back.
But lo, on Monday 13th May, 10 days after it first was promised to me, my vehicle was ready to be picked up. I set off on the very long drive home with trepidation but I made it – after 1,111 miles – by around midnight on Tuesday 14th.
As an unfortunate but perhaps predictable postscript, on Thursday my clutch cable snapped. My local garage told me a small component they would have changed with a new gearbox had not been replaced by the French mechanics.
My bill for the new gearbox parts was £707.58. The insurance company covered a similar sum in labour charges. Despite my insurance cover, I was left out of pocket by several hundred pounds for things that were not covered. My holiday budget was bust as my planned 14-day holiday was almost doubled.
What could I have done differently, I have mused since then. Well, checking Crosa’s online reviews before I agreed to use them might have helped. I have added my own comments to a couple of review pages to hopefully assist others.
I hope someone takes notice of them.
