Most
independent park owners can tell you their occupancy rate to the decimal point,
their average nightly rate, and probably the exact age of their oldest static
caravan. Ask the same owner how much they paid in booking commission last year,
and the answer is usually a shrug, or a number that turns out to be wrong once
you actually add it up.
That's not a criticism. Commission is one of those costs that never arrives as a single, painful invoice. It's skimmed off a booking here, a few pounds off a deposit there, spread across hundreds of transactions over a season. By the time you'd need to sit down and calculate the real total, the season's over and you're already thinking about next year's marketing budget instead.
The maths nobody does on a Tuesday afternoon
Here's
a simple exercise worth doing properly, once, with real numbers rather than a
rough guess. Take your total annual booking revenue — everything that came in
through your booking platform, OTAs included. Multiply it by your actual
blended commission rate, which for most independent parks using a mix of a
booking engine and one or two OTAs typically sits somewhere between 10% and
18%.
For
a park doing £350,000 a year in booking revenue at a fairly typical blended
rate, that number lands somewhere around £42,000. Not a typo. Forty-two
thousand pounds, gone before it ever reaches your bank account, in exchange for
a booking that a guest could, in many cases, have made directly.
That figure isn't a scare tactic — it's just what the arithmetic says once you stop letting the cost hide in small increments. And it compounds. A park growing its revenue by 10% a year is also growing its commission bill by 10% a year, at exactly the moment that money would be most useful reinvested in the park itself.
Why family-run parks feel
this more than they realise
Larger
groups with dedicated revenue managers often negotiate down their OTA rates, or
have the internal marketing muscle to push direct bookings hard enough to
dilute the blended commission. A family-run park with three or four people
wearing every hat in the business rarely has the time to run that kind of
ongoing negotiation, and often ends up more OTA-dependent as a result — not
through any failing, just because there are only so many hours in a day and
somebody still has to clean the pitches.
That
dependency becomes self-reinforcing. The more bookings flow through OTAs, the
less time there is to build the kind of direct-booking presence that would
reduce OTA dependency in the first place. It's a genuinely difficult cycle to
break from inside a busy season, which is exactly why it tends to persist for
years at parks that would, on paper, be perfectly capable of taking most of
their bookings direct.
What a flat fee actually
changes
The
alternative isn't complicated, even if switching systems can feel like it.
Instead of paying a percentage of every booking, a flat monthly subscription
means the cost of taking a booking is the same whether it's your first of the
season or your five-hundredth. ParkCore's pricing is a single £499 a month per
park, with every module included — bookings, owners, EPOS, guest CRM, reporting
— and no commission on anything taken through the system.
Run
the same £350,000-a-year park through that model instead of a blended
commission rate, and the annual software cost comes to £5,988 — everything
included, no per-user charges, no tier upgrades to unlock features you're
already using. Compared to the £42,000 commission example above, that's over
£36,000 staying in the business every year, which for most family-run parks is
the difference between deferring a maintenance project and actually doing it.
OTAs don't have to
disappear overnight
None
of this means abandoning Booking.com or Pitchup on day one. A sensible
transition keeps OTA listings live for visibility while actively growing the
direct channel underneath them — and being able to see, clearly, exactly what
each channel is costing you is the first step toward shifting that balance
deliberately rather than by accident. A booking system that tracks source
alongside every reservation means you can watch that shift happen in your own
reporting, month by month, rather than guessing at it.
Doing the sum for your own
park
The
numbers above are illustrative, not universal — every park's blended rate and
revenue mix is different. But the exercise itself is worth five minutes with
your own figures: total booking revenue for the last 12 months, multiplied by
your actual blended commission rate. Whatever number comes out the other end is
money currently leaving your park for every booking it takes, rather than being
available to reinvest in it.
It's
rarely a comfortable number to look at directly. It's also, in almost every
case, the single clearest argument for why the cost of switching booking
systems is worth weighing against the cost of not switching — because for most
independent parks, the second number turns out to be considerably larger than
the first.
Why the calculation gets
avoided
It's
worth being honest about why so few park owners run this sum in the first
place, because the reasons are entirely understandable. Commission is deducted
automatically, booking by booking, so there's never a moment where a specific
invoice demands attention. A subscription fee, by contrast, arrives as one
visible number every month — which paradoxically makes it feel like the bigger
cost, even when the maths says the opposite.
There's
also a natural reluctance to disturb something that's currently working. A
booking platform that reliably takes bookings, however much commission it
costs, feels like a known quantity. The fear isn't really about the money —
it's about the risk of switching to something unproven during a season that
can't afford disruption. That's a legitimate concern, and worth addressing
directly rather than dismissing, which is exactly why any serious alternative
needs a genuinely low-risk way to prove itself before asking for a long-term
commitment.
What a fair trial actually
looks like
A
rolling contract with a short notice period changes the shape of this decision
considerably. Rather than committing to a multi-year agreement based on a demo
and a sales conversation, a park can migrate, run a full season, and judge the
real numbers against their own bookings — with the ability to walk away if it
doesn't work out, rather than being locked into a decision made before the
first guest ever checked in.
That's
a meaningfully different proposition to the leap of faith commission-based
platforms sometimes ask for, and it's worth treating the length and flexibility
of any contract as part of the actual cost comparison, not just the headline
fee.
