Majestic By D.
Google
Ah, life on the road. Eighteen months in, crisscrossing this sprawling country in our caravan, chasing the romance of open skies and the promise of somewhere worth pulling over. And then—bam. We stumble into what has to be the most expensive patch of dirt in Australia. $110 a night. For a powered site.
Why stay here? Well, because choice is sometimes just an illusion. We aimed for RAC Monkey Mia, but they don’t want your dog during school holidays. So here we are, wallets lighter, patience thinner.
Maybe they’re playing with “dynamic pricing,” like airlines do when you’re desperate to get home. But this wasn’t even a packed-out park. Empty sites everywhere. A text later offered us an extension at $53 a night. Half price. Which only begs the question - why not just start there? Why push your customers to the edge, then toss them a bone when they’re already on their way out?
The experience left a bitter taste. It’s not just about money - it’s about the feeling of being hustled. And that lingers longer than any sunset view or beachside breeze. For us, the Tasman brand’s now stained. Fool me once, sure. But next time? We’ll be rolling right past.