Ah, you are staying at the hotel with the Monkey Bar,’ said Dr Wimmer raising one eyebrow archly. This was the first point in the two-hour meeting that Dr Wimmer had hinted towards any personality, let alone the ability to archly raise an eyebrow, so he had my attention.

‘I believe it was the fashionable place last year,’ he said, in a tone so deadpan it was impossible to determine whether he was mildly disdainful that I was staying at a hotel that was fashionable, or disdainful because it was no longer fashionable.

It was late as I arrived at the hotel so I was looking forward to a quiet evening relaxing in the once fashionable Monkey Bar. The fashion crowd may have moved elsewhere but the bar was rammed as I tried to work out how to open the door. I was hit with the sound of the type of euro-techno that only exists in European hotels and entered a room that made me feel every one of my 40 years. This was not the relaxing evening I had in mind. With my tail firmly between my legs I retreated to the safety of room service.