I'm like that smarmy guy who presented Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Last night I slept, cardinal style in a king-size canopied bed in my suite at the fabulous Palazzo Inter Continental Hotel. As I was shown around the penthouse suite - where Pavaroti stayed I surveyed the wide corridors and massive baths that held his girth.
At lunch today, serendipitously finding myself seated next to Michel of Auberge Michel, the Tourism Grading Council's first five-star hotel. Food was sublime - smoked salmon enclosed crayfish and crab, veal shin topped with fois gras, rack of lamb with aubergine and the most divine coffee and chocolate sphere with ice cream.
The Westcliff's Mark Holden and Gaby Palmer have learnt since my last vitriol about me not being told Brad Pitt and I were sharing the hotel on my last visit. Within moments of my happy welcome, he shared that Will Smith was in-house. I've since been paying more than my usual attention to tall hunky African Americans. Dinner with Gaby was at La Belle Terrace enjoying their Potato (yes) menu. Spiffy chef Sven has created a degustation menu with potatoes that has ensured I'll never look askance at the humble spud again. Entirely over the top but very delicious.
Synchronicity seems to be playing a special role in my life at the moment. I'm in room 433 again - entirely unintentionally. Earlier today, when lost between Fredman and Grayston drive, Simone Appelton with whom I'd met earlier in the morning, was driving just ahead of me and came to offer me directions.
If this is the blessed life - I'm loving it.