A week or so ago I read how an Austrian man had been moved by a three-week holiday in an Hawaiian five-star resort to divest himself of his wealth, and while I won't be divesting myself of my modest pile I was taken by what he had to say about the five-star experience. "It was the biggest shock in my life when I realised how horrible, soulless and without feeling the five-star lifestyle is," Karl Rabeder said. "In those three weeks we spent all the money you could possibly spend. But in all that time we had the feeling we hadn't met a single real person - that we were all just actors. The staff played the role of being friendly and the guests played the role of being important, and nobody was real."
I couldn't have put it better! I have stayed five-star around the world and I have always found it a disconcerting experience. Mostly in my travels I have stayed no-star, in Europe's pensiones and rooms above the public bar in Australian pubs, and I am always much more comfortable and at ease than I am in any monument to extravagance and, more disturbingly, subservience and servility. There are no laughs, no fun, no uncontrived rapport to be found in the five stars of my travels, and I am always intrigued that few are willing to speak at a level that breaks the churning white noise of these establishments. But it is the acting I can't accept, the paid solicitousness, the deference and the ersatz friendliness. As I write in my column in The Herald today, the most concern for a guest's welfare in an Australian pub will be the barmaid's "that'll be $30 up front love".
Are you five star or no star? A camper or a resorter? Is it corrupted attitudes that prevent me enjoying staff's servility?