By Lebogang Mogashoa
June 19th, 2008
I've never slept at a five star hotel before. Convenience and affordability always trumped comfort and a decadent breakfast. The only time I ever treated myself, accommodation wise, was at a 3-star hotel in Tokyo, I pretended it was 5-star just because it was in one of the most expensive cities in the world.
But recently I got the opportunity to stay at the Arabella Western Cape Hotel and Spa. And it was like learning to walk all over again, but with the bashful attitude of someone who tries to appear worldlier than he is.
In the palm of comfort
The first thing I did when I got into my room was change out of my clothes into the plush hotel robe. Immediately, I vowed to make sure I've got some space in my bag for the robe for when I leave. Don't call it stealing, just merely bringing the luxury home.
Next I deposited my cotton swathed carcass into the bed. An epic bed that seemed to judge me for not having a sleeping companion.
I know nothing about thread count so I didn't even bother checking on that. But what I do know is I have never slept in anything like that before.
The white bedding was so soft and bright I felt dirty. Not filthy enough to leave it alone though.
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Beware the monstrous bill
I flipped the TV channels. I stuck to the usual channels. Venturing into pay per view land seemed as perilous as raiding the mini bar; eventual scandal both fiscally and personally.
By the time I got sick of regular television programming, it was time to check out the golf course. I don't play golf and I never really understood why the most prestigious hotels come with golf courses. But the rolling hills and the beautiful views of the Bot River Lagoon and Kogelberg mountains mooted that confusion.
By the way, this is where the Nelson Mandela Invitational charity golf tournament has been held since 2003. In case you’re wondering, the shoes Nelson Mandela wore during the opening are not on eBay but on display.
Fancy taps
After the golf, I napped. Then later before dinner, I staggered out of bed, drunk from extreme comfort. Ready for a bath, I pushed the stopper in the tub and unleashed the waters hoping for a full tub in a few seconds. Five minutes later it still wasn't full. I realised that the stopper was somehow loose. No matter what I tried it just wouldn't fill up.
Later when I casually mentioned my dilemma to some of my dinner companions who had managed to have baths (I showered), the group collapsed into a knowing laugh.
"Oh yeah, I struggled with that too. But there's some kind of latch by the tap that you pull and it shuts the tub." No, it's not that common latch you’re thinking of, this was elusive.
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I will always remember that dinner at a five star joint often requires a steely palate, exposed to the most shocking tastes. I was hesitant when the first suggestion of food was
crocodile. I was brave enough to try it. Though I don't see that happening in the future.
After I found my feet with the likes of eland meat, ostrich and even the common lamb, I decided 5-star dinners aren't that terrible. I even learned that bisque was just a more difficult name for soup at the next dinner.
Like a rock star, a mini rock star
Much later, knackered and full beyond belief, I returned to my room. The mess I had left; clothes flayed about, bedding turned upside down and smelly shoes split from their partners, was gone.
Everything looked just as I found it the first time I got into the room. An idle life of slovenly sloth and yet the room still looks clean?
I commenced to mess up the room again. Feeling very rock star, yet avoiding the mini bar. Before sleeping, I ticked off what I wanted for breakfast from the menu and hung it on the door so I'd wake up to breakfast in bed. If only regular life supported such indolence.
Try some of these package deals, not entirely uber decadent but you'll still feel spoilt.
Read the 
Great Article
I also enjoyed reading this. It put me in mind of the first time I stayed at the Palace at the Lost City.
loved this
brilliantly written, really enjoyed reading it