Case Study: Giraffe Ranch
Giraffe Ranch is not a place I had heard about through friends or family, despite its location within an hour of my home. I discovered it through a rack brochure in Orlando, and I had mixed impressions—is it another typical drive-thru safari? Is it a roadside attraction? Is it a diamond in the rough? I needed to discover for myself, so I went to their website. There I found out not only did I need to reserve a time for a guided safari, but wow, was I shocked at the prices: $119 per person for 1.5 hour tour. Additional interaction experiences were also offered for relatively reasonable prices starting at $35 per person. I elected for a $35 lemur interaction. On top of this, I was required to pay $12 for parking, despite the location in the middle of nowhere. All of this set my expectations fairly high—ticket prices and parking as high as the theme parks nearby in central Florida. Did this mean the experience would be as good, or are they benefitting from high price expectations of tourists?
Giraffe Ranch is located in a rural area outside Dade City, Florida. Coming from the north, I saw no signs along the road to indicate directions or to advertise. GPS said to turn onto a tiny dirt road off of the busy divided highway, and as we bumped along the single lane road, I started to wonder if I had been duped. Passing three mailboxes and watching the ranch-like pastures roll by, finally, I spotted a small Giraffe Ranch sign with the familiar and unique scrawled logo posted to an open fence gate.
As soon as we passed the entry fence, animal enclosures were visible. Under the graceful limbs of live oaks, dripping with Spanish moss, tapirs and their curious snouts were exploring their environment. We waited our turn on the asphalt road to check-in through our car window with a gentleman who directed us to a grassy area deemed the $12 parking lot behind a metal pole barn. The lot couldn’t hold more than 30 cars, I’m guessing, and was lined by the fence demarcating the savanna, where we could see ostrich, giraffe, and other antelope and hoofstock. We were greeted in the lot by Elena, who chatted with us about where we came from and directed us to a centralized area with animal exhibits, two toilets, and access to the gift shop. Since we arrived late, we had just enough time to wait in line for the toilet, then were ushered to the real experience—the safari trucks.
The safari itself was truly delightful. Our tour guide, Lex (the gentleman from before), is one of the owners along with his wife, Elena, and with his years of experience in the zoo community, is extremely knowledgeable, affable, and exudes credibility. The safari trucks are comfortable with shade covers and tiered bus seats so everyone has the best view. The experience itself, while not literally traversing a lot of ground, moves through several zones that include specialized habitats cordoned off within mixed species hoofstock habitats. Cassowary, giraffe, alligator, Indian rhino, and dwarf hippo all had their own specially designed areas that each truck visited up-close. Camels had their own yard, and the truck tour brought us through and around the cheetah yards to talk about breeding.
After the tour, which includes one interactive feeding moment—rhino for us as the third truck on the tour, because the giraffe decided they’d had enough from the previous two trucks of visitors, we were returned to the central area and directed to a large hoop greenhouse structure where a troop of lemurs, a pair of dikdik, and a smattering of guinea fowl awaited us. We were given a handful of grapes, instructed to break them up into smaller bits to last longer, and taught to feed the lemurs with flat hands at the feeding platforms. Surrounded by the mixed species group, lemurs charmed us, patiently waiting one by one for our outstretched palms before delicately taking our hands into theirs, leading our hand to their mouths to gently remove the offered grape delicacy. The guinea fowl were far more rude. After washing our hands of sticky grape juice and lemur drool, we walked back to the central area to explore the habitat overload.
Here, the magic of the experience fell apart. As a zoo designer, I was in awe of the creativity and complexity of the once-innovative trail system that led species from habitat to habitat high above our heads through the tall old-growth trees of the beautiful site. Otters, lemurs, and other primates can move throughout the central space, choosing where they’d like to spend time—in the sun, the shade, hiding away, perched above the visitors keeping watch, or engaging the guests face-to-face. Layers of exhibits utilizing the vertical spaces in ways I haven’t seen before made it interesting—and also a challenge to understand where to look and who to look for. Layers of exhibits horizontally made views confusing, looking through fences and fences and barriers. A single tortoise wandered the central area of its own accord—a very cool surprise, but also quite jarring as visitors were free to engage without supervision. While the core concepts were impressive, the execution was DIY, which diminished the innovation into a backyard, roadside attraction. This central core is the second impression of the facility—after the poor first-impression of vehicular entry—and is the area that concerns me most related to the guest perception and brand longevity for the institution.
Throughout Giraffe Ranch, the design is decidedly homegrown, but is well-done. Fences have nice details of round, rough-hewn timbers with wire mesh panels to soften the edges and create a safari-inspired modern aesthetic. Metal buildings are painted and clean. The natural beauty of the site prevails. But the central collection of animal exhibits feels old, outdated, and dare I say, menagerie-like. With this area being the central core of the experience—where you go for orientation and return to afterwards, this area should be the representation of the brand experience, including extensive education messaging. Instead, it is the opposite. Were I to see pictures of this area on social media, I would immediately be very skeptical of the place. Otter interactions occur in front of a very basic elevated pool with mesh fencing through which otters stick their arms to reach for minnow treats. This feels very much like begging, and a photo looks worse, reminding me of begging bears and red pandas in Chinese zoos. Maybe that’s just me, but I think the owners are hoping for impressions to be reflective of the highest level of care and expertise—and visual representation makes a difference.
Less importantly, but certainly adding to lowered perceptions, are the lack of basic comforts. Two toilets are not enough when a hundred people (guesstimate of capacity on trucks) are preparing for their safari or are preparing to leave. The gift shop is missing the mark, undersized (or overfilled) and with limited merchandise—mostly plush and t-shirts, and no snack or lunch option. Because guest tours are at 11am and 2pm and because of Giraffe Ranch’s rural location with limited options nearby, both timeslots could benefit from food on-site, serving lunch either before or after the tour (one lunch service for both timeslots). Lunch could even be packaged into the tickets. Right now, these things are accepted and overlooked because the safari and interaction experiences are so great. But, instead of accepting these as they are, they should be considered opportunities to strengthen messaging.
The model Giraffe Ranch currently employs (limited visitors and high-interaction and personal experiences at a premium price) is one that I believe can be incredibly successful—both from a business perspective, but more importantly, from the mission perspective. This way, guests are guaranteed at least one incredible animal connection—creating memories and hopefully inspiring empathy and passion in conservation. More so, though, the time spent with guides on the tour is priceless—the ability to spread a conservation and care message to a captive and engaged audience in unparalleled. Giraffe Ranch is doing things right fundamentally, and with a more careful eye to the brand identity and messaging both on-site and in advertising, this facility could be a well-known and not-to-be missed experience even within the highly saturated Central Florida market.
