To whom it may concern

22 October, 2007

Wotif.com – Complaints
Australia Head Office
13 Railway Terrace
Milton, QLD 4064


To whom it may concern,

The purpose of this letter is to serve as a formal complaint against Dengiz Taner and his administration of the Saray’i Hotel in Palm Cove Beach, Queensland.

Our experiences with Mr Taner and Saray’I on October 9 – 12 of 2007 were alarming, and we are compelled to advise as many business associations and fellow travellers as possible as to the negligent practices and violent behaviour of Mr Taner.

We selected Saray’I based on descriptions and photos displayed on Wotif.com. Specifically, we were enticed by the following statement: “Downstairs you can enjoy the ocean view and breezes as you sample meals in Neptune’s restaurant (prepared by our Fijian award winning chef) or sip on cocktails in our popular bar.”

We arrived at the Saray’i Hotel at approximately 7:30 pm on Tuesday October 9, 2007 to find the registration desk unattended, the lobby deserted, and a sign attached to a telephone indicating to ring for after-hours check-in. Since there was no response after 20 rings, we approached the restaurant to make inquiries. We were disappointed to discover that Neptune’s restaurant had been converted into a take-away pizza service. We rang a bell on the counter. Several minutes later, a lone pizza cook emerged from the kitchen. He seemed distraught and confused by our presence. We asked if he knew how to contact the caretaker as per our late check-in instructions provided by Wotif.com. With uncertainty, he said that he could check us in, but we would have to wait a few minutes while he tended to some pizzas as he was the only employee present.

Several minutes later, he came to the front desk and we presented him with our reservation confirmation # 7389360. Our names were not in the reservation book and he could find no record of our reservation. He explained that he does not really handle check-in, that he was just the pizza cook. We asked if there was a night manager or a caretaker that he could contact, and he then said that he was the caretaker. We began to lose confidence in the credibility of this establishment.

After leaving us once more to tend to his pizzas, he returned and offered to show us to a room, saying we could sort out the reservations with the owner in the morning. He lead us through a darkened lobby in which was parked a Harley-Davidson motorcycle and out onto a brick path that was overgrown with bushes such that we had to bend aside branches to make our way. He left us to inspect the room while he went to check on his pizzas and get us two towels.

The room may best be described as dreary, hot, and odorous. The overhead lighting was cold and weak. The toilet leaked. The door to the rear patio, a small concrete enclosure, was unlocked, causing us immediate concerns regarding the security of the facility, as there might have been an intruder concealed in the room – imaginative perhaps, but personal safety is a serious concern for women travellers. The beds were worn and lumpy, and the springs could be felt through the tired covers. In no way did this room resemble the elegant boutique rooms shown on the website.

Returning to the lobby to retrieve our luggage, we asked if we should park in the rear as had been indicated on our instructions from Wotif.com. He asked where we were parked now. We said out front to which he replied “It’s safer out front. You’re alright there.” This statement raised further concerns regarding the security of the property, and we determined that we did not feel safe enough to remain at the hotel. We informed the caretaker/cook of our feelings and our intentions to depart. Although he did offer to show us to another room, we did not feel that solution would provide us with any further security or allay our doubts as to the integrity of the hotel.

We departed the hotel and found another facility that was brightly lit and well-staffed with friendly competent personnel who made us feel welcome, safe, and secure.

On the morning of October 10, we contacted Wotif.com to inform them of our experience. The reservation agent said she would contact the Saray’I Hotel on our behalf. She returned to the line and said the owner would not offer any refund, and that he “wasn’t very nice…in fact, he was most unpleasant.” We stated that we were less concerned by the refund, as we were by the fact that the property was entirely misrepresented on their website and that we had concerns regarding its security, since we had felt in danger upon our registration. She advised that we lodge a formal written complaint to Wotif.com.

At 5 pm that evening, Audra returned to the Saray’I Hotel to speak with the owner directly. Mr Taner was sitting at a table out front drinking a large beer and smoking cigarettes. She explained our experiences of the previous evening and offered our sincere apologies for having caused him any inconvenience. He immediately became agitated. He said we had been offered an upgrade. She said we had been offered to see another room, but that was inconsequential since we did not feel personally safe staying at the property. He became more agitated and asked for further explanation as to why we had felt that way. Audra explained about the unlocked door, the comments made about the safety of parking out front, and the fact that a motorcycle was parked in the lobby, to which he replied that it was his motorcycle and he parked it there to keep it safe, thus confirming our perception that the property had security concerns.

Audra informed him of our intentions to lodge a formal complaint with Wotif.com because, aside from the security concerns, the property had been grossly misrepresented on their website. She told Mr Taner that one of the features that had attracted us to his property was “an award-winning Fijian chef”, yet we arrived to find a deserted pizza kitchen. She said that was false advertising. He responded that the chef had quit some months ago, but that didn’t matter because there were plenty of other restaurants up and down the street. Audra went on to explain that the features of the room were unsatisfactory and did not meet expectations based on what was described on Wotif.com. He became visibly angry and said his property had been independently assessed and given a 4.5 star rating. Audra then explained the level of quality we were experiencing down the street to illustrate the contrast for value. He raised his voice and leaning forward in his chair yelled that he wasn’t going to give us any “damned refund”. Becoming frightened, Audra explained that she had not asked for a refund and that it was worth the sacrifice to ensure safety and comfort. At this point, Mr Taner became enraged and shouted “That’s it, you fucking bitch. Get off of my property you fucking bitch!”

We were intimidated. Audra felt distinctly threatened by his aggressive behaviour and his abusive language and was worried he might assault her. She promptly left the premises.

No one deserves to be threatened or intimidated in the course of a business dealing, particularly in the hospitality industry. We feel obligated to convey our experiences to the relevant authorities, associations, and agencies to establish firm documentation of Mr Taner’s aggressive behaviour and hostile attitude towards his guests, in the event that in the future he loses his composure and becomes physically violent.

Thank you for your attention and consideration to this matter.

Kind Regards,




Linda Dydo Audra A McKinzie



Cc:
Smithfield Police Station
Australia Hotel Association
HMAA
ACT Office of Fair Trading
Council of Small Business Australia
Australian Turkish Business Council
Restaurant and Catering Association
Chateaux Commercial
Municipal Employees Credit Union of San Jose

Palm Cove, Kuranda, and on the road through tropical Queensland

The first step in Cairns announces a change - just as hot, but oh so tropical. Breathing is easier, no dry throat, and my face re-moisturizes itself.

I am the cause of many jam-ups on the sidewalk as the birds regularly stop me in my tracks. I hear more than I see, but I see plenty. If you live here, do they just become garden variety birds? Probably not. I love the local birds in California, and a good Mockingbird call will fascinate me all night. The lorikeet concert in the palm trees in Townsville was a real treat.

We obtained a rental car, and headed to Palm Cove, where we had a dreadful experience with the "charming" hotel with "an award winning Fijian chef" that we booked online. Audra and I will fully blog this after our blistering letters of complaint are posted. We found a wonderful alternative in the Hotel Mercure, with a luxury apartment and the most charming pool ever. But the whole fiasco took so long, we were forced into beer and peanuts as the only items left on the pub menu. We retreated to our luxury apartment with rum and potato chips, with the promise of a good breakfast.

We were just a cross-walk away from the beach where I spent hours swimming in the South Pacific Ocean. The sand was like silk. And I saw crocodile tracks in the sand!
Spice was the name of the restaurant and bar attached to the hotel, and I discovered a Bleu Blue, a martini made with Sapphire Gin and green olives stuffed with blue cheese.

We took a steam train ride up to Kuranda, a village at the top of a mountain covered in tropical rainforest. We selected this activity on the advise of a total stranger we met at the sunrise visit to Uluru. A group of refugees from a local road race in Broom were toasting the sunset, and commented on my viewing perch in the boot of the car. Audra told them she was making me tour Australia in the boot, they offered to take our picture in from of Uluru, we shared a toast and an evening friendship was cemented.

His advise was solid. We had lunch in a balcony jutting into the forest and were amused by the birds. We tasted local wine, I bought some lovely shifts for the upcoming cruise, and Audra stocked up on sarongs. Many fine minutes were spent tasting local honey, but I wonder how they know for sure that the bees made the honey
from the nectar source listed on the label? Hours later, we boarded the gondola ride down through the rainforest. Audra managed to relax into the experience. It was breathtaking. You could look straight down to the forest floor, or view the horizon, the ocean, back up the mountain, or forward down the slope.

We hit the road to meet up with Kevin at Airlie Beach for the cruise. We had a frightening time when Kevin called from Sydney. He was experiencing heart palpitations and was rushed to hospital. We were ready to cancel all plans and go to Sydney, but it was not a serious situation, and Kevin recovered fully with promises to take a boatload of tests, with definite lifestyle changes. He arrived in Persepine Airport on schedule, with the cruise as treatment for frayed nerves. He brougt internet access with him, so of course I logged on, only to learn that my mother Charlotte was in hospital after a heart attack. Again, I was ready to cancel all plans and fly to Ohio, but my sisters Marsha and Nancy assured me that all was well. Mom was airlifted from her small village into Toledo and a major hospital where she underwent surgery to install stints in her arteries. She assured me there was nothing I could do, and that Mom would feel really guilty if I cancelled my trip. Staying here was very hard. I wish I was there to help my mother and my sisters. But our life never delivers the script we draft, and we are forced to perform the one that is written. I will set sail tomorrow with a heavy heart that is no more than my fair share of life.

Uluru and Kata Tjuta

Audra and I flew into the resort at Ylara where Audra picked up a rental car and drove us into the resort there. We stayed at the "Lost Camel" which has a typical Aussie legend about it's name. It starts out charming, then muddles up the internal logic of the legend, and then just ends without making a clear point. But the hotel was charming. We went straight out to Uluru, pausing to get some photos of a herd of feral camels. Now there is something you don't see often in the U.S. The rock was formerly Ayers rock, and formerly Uluru before that. "Ownership" of the rock had been returned to the tribal people because it is sacred to them, but they have wisely decided to co-manage it with the national parks service, for the benefit of everyone. There are spots they request you to not photograph, and really make a pitch for you to not climb it. It is an impressive experience to view it and walk along it. I took random pictures of wind and water erosion formations, and was constantly fascinated by the play of sunlight and shadow. Thank you Audra for renting the car. The poor tourists on the bus tours had a limited amount of time at the viewing spots and always looked rushed. When Audra and I had enough sun exposure, we went into the air-conditioned car and escaped the flies. Even with my fly net, I became a master of the Aussie salute.

We had a dining experience called "Sounds of Silence" where we were shuttled into the outback, had a buffet that featured kangaroo, crocodile, and barramundi. I can tick this tasting experience off my list of things to do once. Our table was internatioal, newlyweds from Japan, Italy, and France, a father and sun from England, and A mother and daughter from the U.S. (us)Unfortunately, some cloud coverage moved in, and we did not get the full star viewing, but Scorpio put on a wonderful show.

Unfortunately, the "opera singer" from Dallas did not do the same. Read Audra's account. I tolerated her abortion approach to "Climb every mountain" but was seriously wondering if I could poison her wine and bury her in the outback when she launched into "Danny Boy."

The next day, Audra and I drove out to Kata Tjuta, 45 kilometers from Uluru, and a totally different experience. We hiked up a gorge, where Audra potted some bones near a dry creek bed. They were camel bones, and Audra could not resist one of the vertebrae, which is about as big as my head. We did not consider this pilfering a national park, as the camel is not a native. Sunset at Uluru, then one more morning drive-around where we stopped at the climbing site, because pleading does not work with some tourists, and they clamber up the rock anyway, so it was decided to give them one area to use, one far away from the sacred sites.

I think my favorite part was the camel ride. We slowly sailed through the desert, and being so high up gave us an excellent view of the beauty of the outback. We arrived at Kata Tjuta at sunset, where i took some more amazing sunset pictures.
Back to the airport, back across the tarmac and off to the Cairns area in tropical Queensland.

Sydney University and Bollywood

The excitement of flying to Uluru (Ayers Rock)later on top of too much delicious Indian food is proving a superior foe to sleep. So I will post a few random thoughts over the last few days, as Audra and I will be off the web for 2 weeks. But we are taking a laptop so we can draft posts, and we will have my fun camera, so be prepared for a glut upon our return to Sydney.

I hooked up with Audra at Sydney University and we went to lunch. The University is very much like any campus, alive with youthful exuberance, and a combination of very old and very new architecture. The lab where she works is not as slick as corporate science facilities, probably because there is no profit to be gained, just knowledge, so it seems to be OK to fund that activity at a lesser level.

The photo of "cockfighters ghost" is from the window of a liquor store and made me wonder - I don't approve of cockfighting, and if I believed in ghosts,
I would find them scary, so why is this phrase appealing to me?

Some differences noticed so far:
smash repair - auto body shop
98% fat free milk - 2% fat milk
(and the 98% is thicker than the 2%. how can that be?
doesn't the math work out to make them the same product?)
eggs are not kept in the refrigerated section of a supermarket
one "falls pregnant" (well, the females do)
if you are the sole passenger in a cab, you ride in the front with the driver
Hungry Jack's - Burger King
byo is the norm in restaurants
AND
If possible, fail to pronounce an "r". Second choice, pronounce it as a vowel.
If all else fails, pronounce it.
B"r"itney Speeahs just lost custody of her kids.

Ouch. I am leaving to dig the antacids out of my packed luggage. Stay tuned for stories of tasting kangaroo, emu and crocodile, my attempt to snorkel, and my Whitsunday cruise.

Zoo and Mozart and the Cosmos

Audie and Kevin's folks and friends might like this tour of their Sydney home that is listed in the video gallery.

I trundled down to Circular Quay and took the ferry to Taronga Zoo (which I misspelled as Toronga when labeling my photos). As with all zoos, it is changing its attitude toward caging the animals, so is in a state of construction confusion as old cages are revamped or abandoned in favor of open, more natural housing arrangements for the tenants. But oh my, the views from this place! I spent over 4 hours, sharing time with the animals and myself. View wombats, admire the view across the harbour, find a bench, and read a chapter of my book. Repeat process with a different critter and view. A lovely investment of my time. The wind was warm and invigorating.

I returned to the Quay and walked up to meet Audra and Kevin at an establishment that simply called itself "The Bar" on a discreet brass plack. Upholstered chairs and couches around wooden tables, with swishy Asian waiters who kept me supplied with Vodka and soda and lime is the perfect tonic to the warmth of the zoo afternoon.

We walked up the street to the Sydney Conservatorium of Music and met up with Audra's friend Cheryl, who will prove to be a charming companion for the evening, and went in to "Music & the Cosmos" which was a very entertaining evening. Robyn Williams who Jon will recognize from NPR was the host. We started with Mozart's Symphony No. 41 in C Major, K551, "Jupiter" with the orchestra conducted by Imre Pallo, and then had three wonderful talks by Tim Bedding, Peter Tuthill, and Geraint Lewis, following the theme of the underlying music of the Cosmos. The coolest part was the sound produced by the universe since the Big Bang to now. Confused? You had to be there. Cliff Kerr, who is studying Brain Dynamics and composition and conducting, performed an original composition he calls "Quasars, Pulsars, and Black Holes." Audra and I were a little concerned about modern classical music especially one that would deal with the music of the universe, as our untrained ears hear noise, not understanding music theory. But this was lyrical and powerful and modern. We approved.

The lecture started at 6, so we had skipped dinner, which we remedied at a noodle shop. Way yummy! Gyoza, noodles, teriyaki beef, chicken salad and a bottle of Chardonnay ended a lovely evening with lovely company.

A night at the Opera

In spite of misguided advice, Audra stayed strong and got tickets to see Gilbert and Sullivan's "The Gondoliers" at the Sydney Opera House. I really wanted to be inside, and was not about to sit through Wagner to do so. We started the evening with a lovely gourmet Chinese dinner at "The East" with a table outside on the Quay where we could view our destination as we savored Scallops with pea pods, Lettuce wraps, and Magic King Prawns with fungus and snake beans.

We had a charming time in the loo before the opera, and our seats were front row balcony. Audra let me have the 10% obstructed view seat, and she took the 28% obstructed view seat, but it was all good. There was no one behind us for several rows, so it was like having a private box. The Zanies were charming, making me forget I really do not like mimes. The singers were excellent, the production charming, and we were close enough to see the expressions on the performer's faces. We could peer into the orchestra pit and watch the conductor.

We had a perfectly charming evening, enjoying Gilbert and Sullivan in spite of the well meaning naysayers. So phhhht!

I posted the pictures myself without Audra's assistance, which is why some did not get rotated. I will do better next time.

Walking the bridge and a picnic

Audra and I took the train to Milsons Point and then walked over the Harbour
Bridge. The constant opportunity to soak in spectacular new views still refreshes my soul. Not that the views in the Bay Area are inferior, just familiar. We walked through The Rocks and selected a lovely restaurant tucked into the backyard of one of the original European settler's house. Either people were much smaller, or they really liked living closely. In your own home, you could get no more than 6 feet away from your housemates. Kevin joined us, and we strolled the street market. I may yet return to purchase the music box that plays "Waltzing Matilda."

Day after that, Audra and Kev and I took the trains to Circular Quay, and walked past the Opera House into the Royal Botanical Gardens for a lovely picnic Audra packed, complete with wine, that Kevin toted along. We spent a few lovely hours munching and viewing and drinking. The end of the picnic was anointed by a Noisy Miner who pooped on Audra's hat. We walked through skyscrapers to return to the train line to home.

If my loved ones will check out the photos and videos,they will spend less time viewing the CD Kevin is going to burn for me.

Oktoberfest in Australia

The longest train ride so far took Audra, Kevin and I to Fairfield where a free shuttle took us to the Oktoberfest. I eagerly anticipated sharing a few steins with several thousand Australians. It did not disappoint. I wanted to buy Lee a Tirolean hat, since they looked so cool on the attendees, but the hats arrived with owners, and were not purchased at the 'fest. We shared Thuringer bratwurst, potato pancake, and Jagermeister shots for desert. Audra continued to emit weirdo attractor rays, and one especially unappealing dude with a large beer belly (with outie) balanced on skinny legs kept trying to make eye contact with her, and would then try to slide off her rejection to me. I was successful in sliding under his glances. We were just about to leave, deciding to be prudent and not get really sloppy drunk, just toasty, when a Mariachi Band paraded through the tent and took the stage. Audra was drawn to them like the Pied Piper, even though close attention confirmed suspicion - they were lipsynching. Another beer was needed to drown the disappointment.

We boarded the return shuttle and scored prime front of the bus seats, only to have the outie sit down across from Kevin. A corner eye glance and a desperate "Let's move" from Audra sent us to the back of the bus. How fortunate! There were some middle aged drunks, to whom I seem to be honey. They vastly improved the return trip, even considering the trifecta of my beer consumption, their beer consumption, and the Australian dialect filtered through both. The videos illustrate perfectly.

Unfortunately, the next train back to St. Leonards was a 25 minute wait, so more beer was needed. The pub across from the station contained our new back of the bus friends. They are members of De'Boyz Social Fishing Club, and I think I gathered that no fishing is involved. It centers around drinking together, and being awarded custody of their mascot, Kevin, a toy hamster with a fishing hat. The friend in the platinum wig hair/hat told a story of being assigned custody of Kevin for an evening. Several hours later, he noticed Kevin was not on the barstool next to him, so he asked the bartender "Where's Kevin?" "Two dollars" was the cryptic reply. Confused, platinum hair/hat guy offered the bartender two dollars, who indignantly refused a bribe. Finally, an epiphany! The vending machine takes two dollar coins, and yep, there was Kevin, inside the machine.

This story illustrates my experiences so far - I meet someone who is so friendly, but we may or may not feel the need to exchange names. Good manners require the exchange of amusing stories, and the exchange of "next round is on me." Farewells convince me that they will miss me tremendously, and that meeting me was the highlight of the evening. Such good manners in Australia.

When we took to the train tracks, our friends were across the way, travelling home in the opposite direction. Good natured hooting and howling back and forth was soiled by the appearance of some Iraqi youth, who misinterpreted the jeering as directed at them. So sad. A clear case of how damaging prejudice is - they are always met with hostility, so they assumed the drunken banter and pants dropping was directed at them, when it was not. The pants dropping by our friends was for Audie and Kev and me, not for them. But they could only perceive what they know, and unfortunately assumed the act was hateful. Prejudice hurts us all. A sour note entered the symphony.

Which was cancelled by a young cutie on the train who started a game of toss the snurf ball, and again ameliorated by the young student from Jordan was was so pleased to be able to talk to Audra, since he went to university where she works, and he was a psychology major, so they had the language of science in common. The evening ended peaceful.

Except that Audra got too much hot sauce on her late night falafel snack, and we were all required to share her pain.

Featherdale Wildlife Park

Today Audra and I took the train to Blacktown. I saw my first hoon, or Westie. In American, a hooligan. We transferred to a bus that took us to the Featherdale Wildlife Park, where we had the most marvelous time, taking photographs and videos! I love my camera. All animals were fascinated by my hat. When I removed it and moved it around, they would follow it. The Devil even stopped running in circles to give it some attention. Perhaps it is the seagull poop.

We spent hours there, watching the fruit bats, dingos, and Tasmanian devils eat. The dingos were very polite eaters, causing Audra to revise her opinion, a dingo cannot eat your baby. The fruit bats are silly eaters as the crawl down, grab some melon, yell and scratch the fruit bat next to them, the crawl back to the top to swallow upside down. When Audra tried to scratch fruit bat belly, he launched a stream of urine she barely avoided.

The Tasmanian Devils were the best. No eating could be done without lots of snorting and running around. They are much smaller than I imagined, but just as deranged. But when you make eye contact, there is some sort of consciousness in there.

We went to a lovely Thai restaurant called Khacha, and I was inspired to take photos of the first two courses, then I fell into Tasmanian Devil Dinner Mode. I took a photo of the famous "Chloe" painting at a local pub, and will try to get a better one of the legend for future posting. We ended the evening at a "club" - you cannot just enter a place and drink, you must be a member. Kevin is a member, Audra was his guest, but since I am from overseas, I don't need to be a member or a guest. Color me confused.

We had port and interesting conversations, and I got hit on twice. Ray was fascinated with my hair and my ability to say f**k in a charming American accent.

My flight was easy all thing considered. I was the highlight of my customs inspector's day because I had made a list of all items I thought I needed to declare. Had a librarian never been through her line?

I must have a librarian's face. On the first day out, I was travelling by bus to Circular Quay to snag the Manly Ferry when a young man asked me if I could tell him where the Wynyard Station was. I did know! It was right beyond the Payless Shoe Store. But when I told him it was about the only thing I did know, having just arrived from San Jose, he told me about his work experience in Anaheim.

I had breakfast in a cafe on Circular Quay, scrambled eggs with local smoked salmon on a bagel.
I needed to warn the seagulls that if they were to land on my table, I would need to punch them. A pigeon performed a lovely ballet at my feet, dancing in circles, which is a diversionary tactic for the seagull, who is promptly punched. I am clearly done eating, but no check arrives, so under the guise of taking photos (none of which I keep) I observe how my fellow diners pay for their meals. You get up and walk in to the register, and tell the cashier your table number. And there is no tipping in Australia.

I have mastered the skill of walking here. No snickering! Driving is to the left, and so is walking. For the entire first day, I found myself wandering into oncoming walkers.

My mission for day one was to go to Manly, a suburb beach front village across the harbour.
I found the perfect hat, and walked down The Corso to the Pacific Ocean to dabble my tootsies.
While disrobing the feet, a seagull just poops on the small portion of my cheek not protected by my hat. My perfect new hat, as well as my right shoulder and right cheek are now covered in seagull scat. Thank you Jonnie for the Valentine's Day gift, the Tide stain remover stick.
Is there a seagull threat assessment network, and he learned of my actions back at Circular Quay? As penance, I leave the uneaten portion of my brekkie bagel on a bench, and skulk away, never looking back to witness the feeding frenzy.

On my second day out, I went to the Aquarium which is in Cockle Bay at Darling
Harbour. I viewed outdoor art, had a meat pie with a glass of wine, and just let tension ooze away.

I am wizaard at the trains, having yet to select the wrong platform, direction, or train.

Yesterday, Audie took the afternoon off. I trained in and met her at the Haymarket Branch of the Sydney Public Library, which uses Horizon, the same system we use in Los Gatos. We took a new train line build for the Olympics, out to the Fish Market, where we assembled a fine feast of sashimi and cooked seafood, a lovely bottle of wine, and went down to the picnic area on the docks. Seagull threats were again necessary. The food was delicious, with the exception of the octopus with sweet chili sauce. Life is too short for unpleasantness, so we put it right in the garbage bin, and bought sashimi seconds. We ended the evening with a few pub drops.

And this morning Audra and I set up this blog and my Flickr account!