“I come to LA every month in my boss’s private jet to take her dog to the salon. She’s a porn billionaire.”
Stephen Unwin gives Bailiffscourt the once over for one of his wonderful sort-of-hotel-reviews
"To my left was a table full of three young Americans, high on precociousness. One was wearing a shirt with a fleece – or was it a fleece with a shirt? – and the sort of shoes you only ever see abandoned"
Celebrity journalist and travel writer Stephen Unwin is taken into custody for an evening and finds the amenities lacking
“Turn the car around Paul, we’re not staying here.”
"Everywhere you look there’s colour and movement and BK greaseproof wrappers rolling along in the popcorn-scented wind"
"It is hideously enjoyable – once the warm fuzz of premium vodka kicks in"
"I should start this with something pithy on 'wellness', which I believe is a made-up word." Spa cynic Stephen Unwin visits La Réserve Ramatuelle in France
"But can’t you just imagine the chatter in that queue? All that talk of Twerking and FitFlops, hair and make-up, ketchup or HP? It must be like the round table at The Algonquin"
