Exploring timeshare details
Twenty years ago, a timeshare spiel nearly ended my marriage.
I happened on the presentation while strolling down a street in Baja California. After sucking down three free industrial-strength margaritas, I was ready to sign on the dotted line.
My husband, being less susceptible to strong drink, didn’t share my zeal for plunking down $2,500 to visit Rosarito Beach every year during the third week of July for the rest of our lives. Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed once the tequila wore off.
But that was then. Timeshares are now “vacation clubs,” and respected hotel companies with deep pockets, including Marriott, Hilton, Hyatt, Starwood and Wyndham, have jumped into the game.
Sure, there are still small companies selling a week at a time at tired properties to hapless tourists. But the old system – in which a buyer bought a specific week in a specific unit at a specific property – has been mostly supplanted by a more flexible product, with owners buying points that can be used for different weeks at various locations.
The U.S. timeshare biz is booming: In 2005, $8.6 billion worth of timeshares were sold, according to a study conducted for the American Resort Development Association, which represents the timeshare industry. The industry has posted double-digit sales growth every year except one during the past 17 years.
ARDA President Howard Nussbaum said the newly arrived hotel companies have brought changes to the industry.
“Sales tactics have changed dramatically during the last 20 years,” he said. “Companies are trading on their good names, and they don’t want to compromise that.”
Yeah, yeah … but are the properties worth the large outlay of cash, which averages $16,278 a pop? And have those famously high-pressure presentations really become more sophisticated?
To find out, I headed to the timeshare capital of the world, Orlando, Fla., listening to the spiels and inspecting the properties of six of the best-known hotel brands.
None of the companies knew I was a reporter (and no one ever asked what I do for a living).
Let the games begin.
Sunday, 4 p.m.
My first stop: Disney’s Saratoga Springs Resort & Spa, the newest of Disney Vacation Club’s seven vacation club properties.
In the vacation club business for the past 15 years, Disney has five vacation clubs at Walt Disney World, one in Hilton Head, S.C., and another in Vero Beach, Fla.
With no appointment or invitation, I head to the Downtown Disney area (part of the Disney World complex) and am ushered into a sales room.
Perky rep Audrey chats me up about my vacation hopes, fears and dreams. She tells me how I can exchange my Disney timeshare for stays in the world’s best hotels, including Hotel del Coronado near San Diego and the Dorchester in London.
A slide presentation is short on details but full of smiling families having the times of their lives at Disney properties.
Disney, like many timeshare companies, uses a point system. Audrey says I’d need to buy at least 242 points for my family of four, which would cost about $24,442 ($101 a point), plus about $963 a year in maintenance fees.
She whips out a calculator and shows me how this is quite clearly the deal of the century: Divide the $101 cost per point by 48 (the number of years of the timeshare deed), which works out to $2.10; add the annual dues of $3.98 per point and, voila, each point actually costs $6.08 a year.
Multiply that by the number of points you spend to stay in a studio in the lowest season – 11 points – and you’re spending just $66.88 per night to stay at an upscale Disney property.
My head spinning, I tour several units, walking by a pristine pool area with happy families playing a game of water balloon toss.
The studio unit looks like a large hotel room, but the one- and two-bedrooms have full-size kitchens, washers and dryers, lots of granite and whirlpool baths. The two-story, three-bedroom, 3 1/2-bath “grand villa,” which sleeps 12, is nicer than my house.
Back in the sales room, Audrey tells me that if I buy within six days, I can get 10 percent off the selling price, or 24 free points. She gives me a lovely parting gift, a hard-bound promotional book filled with glossy pictures of happy people.
5:30 p.m.
I drive five miles to Marriott’s Grande Vista Resort near International Drive, where I’ve booked a room for the night, planning to attend a sales presentation the next morning.
Marriott, the first hotel company to enter the timeshare industry in 1984, is now one of the world’s largest, with 47 vacation club properties throughout the United States, the Caribbean, Europe and even Thailand.
The Grande Vista, on 160 acres, is divided into four villages with a total of 22 multistory buildings. My studio room is comfortable but not opulent: The tiling is basic white, the balcony isn’t screened and the coffee machine is old-school.
But the grounds are beautiful, with palm trees, a golf course, tennis courts, a man-made lake and multiple pools and spas. The clientele, mostly youngish couples with small kids, is a snapshot of Middle America’s upwardly mobile class.
Back in the room, I turn on the TV, which is preset to a video about happy people having fun at Marriott properties.
Monday, 7:30 a.m.
The next morning I hit the Marriott sales office when it opens, thinking I’ll be the only one there. Wrong-o. There’s a line.
Energetic salesman Nick gives me a “courtesy” presentation, a shorter version of the rigmarole given to those with invitations. He recommends that I purchase a “two-bedroom week” at the Grande Vista and another at Marriott’s Ocean Point at Palm Beach Shores for a total cost of $47,800, plus about $1,500 in yearly maintenance.
He says I can turn the timeshare weeks into Marriott Rewards Points or trade them through a company called Interval International.
When I seem confused, Nick says, “Don’t worry. We wrap our arms around you.”
I want to believe him.
9 a.m.
I head a few blocks to Sheraton’s Vistana Villages on International Drive, one of six Sheraton timeshare properties in Florida, South Carolina, Arizona and Colorado. Parent company Starwood also operates four Westin Vacation Ownership Resorts in Hawaii, Arizona, California and the Virgin Islands, and four nonbranded properties.
Vistana Villages, too, is crawling with potential buyers. When I tell saleswoman Margarita that I’ve been to Marriott, she launches into a rapid-fire recitation of that product’s lack of flexibility. Sheraton and Marriott, apparently, appeal to a similar demographic.
Much of our discussion centers on how simple it is to swap to another property and to trade the timeshare’s value into Starwood StarPoints. Margarita also recommends getting an American Express card tied to the vacation club for even more points.
The price for a one-bedroom “premium” villa is less than I expect: $16,900 per week, plus several hundred more in maintenance fees. Margarita recommends, however, the “two-bedroom lock-off” – a unit that can be divided into two – for $27,900.
Then her colleague Pablo drives me in a golf cart through the palm tree-dotted grounds to see the units, which are decorated with upscale granite, tile and large screened balconies. I like his simple advice: “If you use it, it’s probably worth it.”
10:45 a.m.
Intrigued by the ubiquitous billboards offering timeshare resales, I stop at International Properties/GMAC Real Estate on International Drive, one of the many companies in Orlando that specialize in reselling timeshares.
The timeshare agents I’ve talked to have all emphasized that buying a timeshare should not be viewed as a monetary investment, but rather as an investment in family and quality of life. And they’ve all carefully sidestepped my questions about resale values – probably because reselling a timeshare is not easy.
The Federal Trade Commission states: “Don’t assume you’ll recoup your purchase price for your timeshare, especially if you’ve owned it for less than five years and the location is less than well-known.”
Bill Rogers, founder of the Timeshare User’s Group, an organization composed of timeshare owners, is even more blunt.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but selling a timeshare is very, very difficult and in some cases almost impossible,” he says on his Web site, www.tug2.net.
“The main reason is supply and demand,” Rogers explains. “The supply of timeshare resales greatly exceeds the demand for resales.”
Timeshare resale agent Mat acknowledges that there are plenty of resales available, but that well-priced offerings at the most desirable developments go fast. He says he can set me up in a two-bedroom “lockout” (another term for lock-off) at Marriott in low season (spring and fall) for as little as $8,000.
Mat acknowledges that neither Sheraton nor Marriott allow resale buyers to turn their investment into reward points.
“But, hey,” he says, “if you’re going to buy a timeshare, stay there or don’t bother buying.”
1 p.m.
Onward to the Wyndham Bonnet Creek Resort, adjoining Disney World. The property is one of 140 Wyndham-owned vacation clubs – Trendwest and Fairfield Resorts properties are now Wyndham Vacation Resorts – located throughout North America and the South Pacific.
The Wyndham-owned timeshare has a different feel from the first three. The demographics are far more diverse, with people of every size, color, shape, age and style of dress milling about. People queue up within roped dividers as if they’re waiting to get into “Pirates of the Caribbean” next door.
When I get to the front of the line, the receptionist says gruffly, “Do you want a courtesy tour or the full 90 minutes? I can’t give you a free gift if you do the courtesy tour.”
I forgo the gift, and buff saleswoman Kim leads me upstairs to see a video that, surprise, is long on happy people and short on facts.
A tour of the resort reveals what I now know is the vacation club formula: a man-made lake, lots of villas, multiple pools with waterfalls, lazy rivers and other cool water features, fitness rooms and activity centers.
The basic villas are not as upscale as others I’ve viewed (formica counters), but the “presidential” one, with its upscale tile, granite, laundry room and 3 1/2 baths, does not disappoint.
Kim gives me the hardest sell, showing me a formal real estate offer but saying I can’t take it with me to study later. The price of $27,400 appears to be attached to a two-bedroom unit during “value season” (spring and fall), but there’s a $5,900 discount and 166,000 bonus points on the table if I buy today.
“These incentives may not be there next time you visit,” Kim warns. “And this place is going to sell out soon.”
I can’t get out of there soon enough.
3 p.m.
My final stop of the day is Hilton Grand Vacations Club on International Drive, where I’m staying. Hilton operates 10 vacation clubs in Hawaii, Las Vegas, New York and Florida, and manages an additional 20 properties in Colorado, Hawaii and Florida.
I go through yet another gated entrance and into the sales center, where friendly salesman Willie is walking out the door but agrees to show me around. He’s the first nice guy I’ve encountered during my marathon, and his pitch is low-key.
I can buy in with a two-bedroom for one week for $20,990 during “gold season” (weeks in post-holiday winter, spring and fall), plus $985 in yearly maintenance fees.
I jog through the Mediterranean-inspired grounds. Several buildings are still under construction, but the completed upscale common facilities – including two large pools, a couple of fitness centers, general store and deli, and outdoor bar and grill – remind me of the other developments.
My studio suite sports a king-size bed, screened porch overlooking the pool and free high-speed Internet access.
Tuesday, 5 a.m.
I drive 3 1/2 hours across the state and south to Bonita Springs, home of the nearest Hyatt vacation club.
Hyatt is the only major hotel brand that doesn’t do Orlando. Instead, the company has built its 12 properties in more-upscale areas, including Key West, Fla.; Beaver Creek, Colo.; and Carmel, Calif.
The lavish, high-rise Hyatt Regency Coconut Point hotel is separate from the adjoining Hyatt Coconut Plantation vacation club, which is also predictably posh. A mangrove forest leads to the waters on Estero Bay, where a pontoon boat waits to take Hyatt hotel and vacation club passengers across the bay to the barrier island beaches.
At the timeshare property, the units are top-shelf and the grounds immaculate. An older crowd sits poolside; the youngest children are older teenagers. There is an adults-only pool and spa, the first I’ve seen. I’m glad I left my checkbook at home.
Soft-spoken salesman Castullo, who is dressed much nicer than I am, explains that Hyatt’s plan works a bit differently from the others: If I stay during the week I buy into, I will always get the same unit, and my deed will reflect ownership of that unit.
But he emphasizes that I can easily trade to other Hyatt vacation clubs and resorts. Hyatt also belongs to the Interval exchange network, he says, but adds, “Most people who buy Hyatt want to stay with Hyatt.”
The hard facts: Buy-in for a two-bedroom during low season will cost $26,000, with maintenance fees of $1,000 a year. I tell him my husband and I will be back to stay for a few days to determine whether it’s the right place for us. I am half-serious.
2 p.m.
On the flight home, I try to distill the eight-plus hours of spiels. Note to self: Serious potential buyers should not attempt six sales presentations in less than two days. Offers get muddled and all the places start to look the same.
Was it the Marriott that had all those palm trees? Which one had those cool swan-shaped paddle boats? Did they all have those giant man-made lakes in the middle?
Maybe some tequila would have come in handy.