I was dicking about earlier today looking at holidays to silly places (namely Bora Bora, close to Tahiti). I thought it would be a good little experiment to see how much of my yearly salary as a percentage it would take to have one week in a luxury resort, with everything included. Now, I’m not going to divulge the exact figures or %s here, but it wasn’t looking pretty.
Then I saw it.
There are times when you are surprised at something – in this case, prices. You are surprised, but at the same time you knew damn well it was going to be like this. You feel a combination of shock and pride, as you are taken aback by the number that confronts you, yet smug because you predicted it would be about that. But this other number… this was something special.
On the island paradise of Bora Bora, it was possible to rent a three-bedroom mansion/palace/some shit like that for around £156,000. For seven nights. And I’m not even sure if that was all inclusive. One hundred and fifty-six thousand pounds, and you don’t even get to keep the house afterwards.
That might not shock some of you – in fact I’m sure it won’t. But it’s the first time I’ve ever made a number that big come up when I’ve clicked on things. Even back in my youth when I got a Chrysler dealer in Sheffield to quote me the price of a Dodge Viper (he didn’t know I was 15) the number wasn’t that big. I didn’t feel shock and pride this time though – I felt shock and like I’d just been neutered. I will never, ever be able to even think about possibly ever even considering thinking about possibly ever going near the ‘book’ button for that particular “deal”.
I mean obviously I booked the place, but that’s besides the point.