My significant other has a significant birthday approaching and she might be expecting more than the usual fish supper. Maybe we’ll go to the Burj Al Arab in Dubai, subject of this documentary, The Billion Pound Hotel (Channel 4).
Ah, it costs £910. A night. For the cheapest room. Which doesn’t even have a rotating bed. Imagine getting up in the night and actually knowing which direction to head to the loo, where’s the fun in that? Of course we’d need a rotating bed, which means a suite in the exclusive top floor, which costs around £10,000. A night.
The Burj Al Arab is that hotel, just offshore from the beach, that looks like a sail. It’s also about to celebrate a birthday as it happens, its 15th. Fifteen! Isn’t that way past it around here? Quick! Call in the wrecking balls! Knock it down, and build something bigger and brasher and even more expensive. The trillion pound hotel, now that’s one I might consider ...
After its construction, it took 250 designers from around the world to complete the interior of the Burj Al Arab. It looks like each one tried to outdo the other in terms of colour and shine and opulence. It’s a tower of vulgarity, properly hideous; Disney wrapped in gold leaf. There is so much gold about the place – not just the furniture, the flush on the loo (when you eventually find it) and the bidet taps, but gold-plated iPads and iPhones in the gift shop, and gold leaf sprinkled on top of your cappuccino, instead of chocolate. Imagine lying on that bed, spinning in a golden whirl. It’s making me feel quite ill. I’m looking for excuses not to splash out on the Burj Al Arab, can you tell?
But this film is not just about the building, it’s also about some of the people in it. Like Oscar the Australian concierge, who operates out of a golden (obviously) cave in the lobby. “This is my nest, this is my home,” he says. Oscar probably pushes out Fabergé eggs from his rear end in his nest; every other word that comes from his mouth is a luxury brand – Louis Vuitton, Prada, Lacroix. Munir, meanwhile, who is 65 (quick, definitely knock him down) and in charge of maintenance, says the building is “my nest, it is the nest of my soul”. What is it with all the nesting?
Lana from Uzbekistan dreamed of being a writer, but when she came to Dubai she realised that actually her dream was to work at the Burj Al Arab, leading a team of butlers. Really, Lana? She watches Downton Abbey, gets her butlers to as well, for tips and ideas. Not from Thomas Barrow I hope, for the sake of staff welfare and morale.
Ekatarina from Romania, who works with Oscar, is bringing an engagement ring up to the helipad where Chris will shortly arrive with Barbara, his girlfriend. They’re not rich – Chris is an American fireman, the helicopter ride from the airport alone cost him over two weeks’ wages. She’d better say yes. And she does; well, actually she says “sure”, romantically.
Anyway, it’s not about the guests, more about the staff. Ekatarina always wanted to be a concierge … Again, really, Ekatarina? Since you were at school? They’re very on-message, everyone in this film, with their life-long dreams and their bloody nests and what have you. Certainly the Burj Al Arab’s PR department isn’t going to have a problem with any of it; perhaps they helped in selecting who would take part. And I wonder if it tells the whole story, of the migrant employees who work there and who built the place 15 years ago.
That – and not the £910 a night minimum, or the overpowering bling – is why I’m leaning towards not going to the Burj Al Arab for the big birthday treat. I’m now thinking maybe the Isle of Wight. Well, it is also an island, but a real one, not artificial, built on the hard labour of South Asian migrant workers.
What about bed rotation, though? Well, I’ll just have to get up in the night in the guesthouse, push it round myself – gently though, so as not to wake her and spoil the morning disorientation surprise. Hey, it gets better: we could take the hovercraft over, which is a bit like a helicopter thrill-wise, but costs a little less than two weeks, wages-wise. And then stop off on the way back at the Spinnaker Tower, which looks just like … the Burj Al Arab. Portsmouth’s 35 Million Pound Tower. No rooms, but the view is brilliant, and it’s only £8.10, if you book online. There’s a cafe too, for a cappuccino with a sprinkle of chocolate, which tastes better than gold. Oh, the cafe’s closed, for essential maintenance. Munir!
