Up where I belong? Luxury accommodation in Cairns (2007)

 |   |  1 min read

Up where I belong? Luxury accommodation in Cairns (2007)

To the best of my knowledge the words “upgrade” and “Mr Reid” have never appeared in the same sentence. Certainly I have stayed in some luxurious hotels -- Sorrento’s Grand Hotel Cocumella (right) gets passing mention here to make you envious -- but I knew about them in advance.

Yes, a couple of times I have been in that part of the aircraft where the cabin crew knew my name and champagne arrived before take-off.

But these have been exceptions. Mostly I stay in rooms that never appear in brochures, and have my legs crushed in economy where the guy behind kicks off his sweat-soaked trainers.

Such are the familiar discomforts of low-end travel, which is why “upgrade” sings all the more sweetly.

And the PR woman at the newly renovated Cairns Hilton certainly didn’t use the magic word when we met in the lobby-cum-lounge where designer chairs, the pebble garden and classy cocktail bar caught my eye. Maybe because I paid it handsome and genuine compliments something strange -- but welcome -- happened as she checked me in.

A discreet whisper, a swipe card for the room exchanged for another, a knowing smile . . .

“Mr Reid, we have just learned our luxury suite is available . . . “

This, I think, was their way of saying “upgrade”.

And so I found myself standing outside two very large doors which, had they swung open simultaneously, could have allowed entry for a caravan of elephants carrying travelling cases of some 19th century marquess. Or a presidential party.

IMGP1024As I stepped across the threshold I entered a world previously denied me. Flat-screen televisions the size of dining room tables, the view beyond taking in the river with luxury yachts, green distant mountains and endless sky. You could have played tennis in the lounge and there were so many mirrors in the bathroom my multiple reflections made the place seem overcrowded.

I luxuriated in this suite with its floor-to-ceiling windows, drank brandy at dusk on the long patio and spent half an hour trying to decipher the television remote.

I was solitary king of all I surveyed here -- but in truth was scared witless I might scratch, scuff or damage something. I indulged myself and even persuaded myself I deserved this. But I was out of my league.

When I left I stole soap.

Share It

Your Comments

post a comment

More from this section   Travels articles index

Kota Kinabalu, Sabah: Headlong into the future

Kota Kinabalu, Sabah: Headlong into the future

Curiously enough, the place I know best in Kota Kinabalu, the capital of Sabah on the northernmost tip of Malaysian Borneo, is the airport. In the course of a few days I was there five times; while... > Read more

Bordeaux, France: Paradise and lunch

Bordeaux, France: Paradise and lunch

As I looked across the manicured box-hedge to the garden where peacocks ambled, and then on up the orderly rows of grape vines marching towards the 18th century chateau, the thought occurred to me:... > Read more

Elsewhere at Elsewhere

THE BARGAIN BUY: Laura Nyro: Original Album Classics

THE BARGAIN BUY: Laura Nyro: Original Album Classics

The recent documentray King of Hollywood about music and movie mogul David Geffen painted the picture of a complex, often ruthlessly driven man who would do anything to succeed. And of course he... > Read more

The New Fuse Box: The Wakem/Nielson Project (LGW)

The New Fuse Box: The Wakem/Nielson Project (LGW)

A little clarifying chronology here might be useful when teasing out the threads of this Auckland jazz group. As I recall their debut album The Politiks of Jazz (just credited to Fuse Box)... > Read more