(CDW) Collision Damage Waiver
Insurance Theatre at Alicante airport offers me the chance to be less anxious.
Got off the flight from Norwich at about 9.30pm local time. All we had to do was pick up the rental that I’d booked online, load it up with kids and bags and drive 20 minutes to our first night’s hotel. Easy peasy.
No señor.
No queues in Spain. They go for the McDonald’s take a ticket and hover, staring at the board. Handsome fellow calls my number. He must upgrade a lot of old ladies to bigger cars and more inclusive packages. But not me. I’m firm in my attitude to both rental cars and rental car insurance: the bare minimum please.
Well, in theory anyway.
I’d booked the small SUV. He looks at our three bags and double-kidded pushchair and rolls his eyes to the heavens. A bigger SUV would make this so much more comfortable. And there happens to be a 50% discount on the upgrade - that very night! What are the odds?
It is late, getting later and I commit the cardinal sin of car rental negotiations: I seek council from my wife.
She is sick, our children are crying, crawling on her and eating stuff off the floor. What’s she going to say?
“Stick with the plan, Arthur. Small and cramped is beautiful.”
Non señor.
Such is the grace of my wife that she merely replies “I don’t know”.
I’m going to have to man up and make the decision. I do. He pities me, our Spanish charmer. But all is not lost. I may have forsworn cabin comfort, but there is still time to achieve peace of mind by upgrading to fully comprehensive insurance.
Non señor.
He is incredulous. The insurance I’ve bought only covers third party accidents, and my own liability in any situation, and the full replacement cost of the car, of course, truth be told… but if worst comes to worst - or even if there is a roadside breakdown, or glass issue or a scratch, a mere scratch… there is a €1400 excess, which they’ll hold on my card. I can relieve myself of this dreaded obligation simply by doubling the rental car charge.
Non señor.
He works to conceal his disgust. He knows the kind of man he’s dealing with now. A stone-cold hearted Englishman who’d shoot his family before entering into hostage negotiations.
He’s almost hesitant to describe in English the consequences of not returning the car with a full tank. The way he describes it, there’s only one petrol station in Spain and it’s more than a full tank’s drive from the airport. He’s about to offer me a way to put my mind at ease, when…
Non señor.
As the clock strikes the hour since this pantomime began, I choose between the blue car and the grey car. I take my keys, and then comes the last piece of theatre, designed to make me recant. The prior damage.
How am I feeling about that €1400 excess now, eh?
Pretty freaking good. Looks like if I do ding it, they won’t be able to tell.
And in any case, they don’t make insurance claims on these scratches. No claim. No excess!
Vamos, baby!