Let's talk about the wine and the view, says Jesse Mulligan, from his oversized bath.
The irony of a lodge aimed at the very wealthy is that money is almost invisible. Once you've paid your room rate (around $3000 per night for our deluxe room; $16,000 in the four-bedroom owner's cottage), almost everything is taken care of. As a result, the environment feels like the opening episode of Netflix show The Good Place — everything is designed for your happiness, and should you need anything at all at any time of day or night, just whisper your desire and it will appear.
As a committed reporter with your interests in mind, I've stayed at a number of luxury resorts over the past few years and of all of them, Matakauri does the best job of retaining character and personality — a difficult job when you're in an industry worn down by the bland demands of the ultra-rich. As in the best fine-dining restaurants, the staff here aren't starchy, but read the moods and personalities of their individual guests, sometimes risking a joke or informal moment to add warmth to the experience. Though the rooms are impeccable, we tended to look forward to cocktail hour when you can lounge in the common area and interact with the staff and other customers who, it has to be said, tend to be much nicer than some of the types you meet in five-star hotels.
Everybody asks where you are from, nobody asks what you do for a living. Sometimes you pick up a bit of their story from overheard conversations — the direct flight from Houston has apparently attracted Big Oil executives to this part of the world — but mostly they want to talk about the wine, and the view.
