
I used to think luxury resorts were just expensive hotels with extra pillows and slightly larger soap bars. Like, who really spends $1,000 a night unless you’re Beyoncé or, I don’t know, a crypto millionaire who bought Ethereum early and never looked back?
But then I stayed in one.
Not because I suddenly struck gold (I wish). Nope. It was my cousin’s wedding in Maui, and the family was like, “We got a group discount!” Spoiler: their definition of “discount” was still about three zeros too many for my comfort zone.
Still, curiosity won. I figured, if I’m going broke, I might as well do it somewhere that serves guava mimosas by the pool.
The Sticker Shock (and the Welcome Drink That Almost Justified It)
You know that feeling when you walk into a place and instantly realize you’re not rich enough to breathe the same air? That was me at check-in. The doorman smiled at me like I’d just come back from conquering a small kingdom.
“Welcome, Mr. Niraj,” he said (yes, Mr. Niraj—fancy). “Would you care for a passionfruit spritz while we process your reservation?”
I took it. Obviously. I mean, when someone hands you a drink with edible flowers floating in it, you say yes.
And listen—the drink was ridiculous. It tasted like sunshine had been juiced. I immediately thought, Okay, maybe this is why people pay $1,000 a night.

The Room: Basically a Movie Set
My room wasn’t just a room—it was like stepping into an ad for serenity. Everything was white and beige and ocean. The bed looked so perfect it almost felt illegal to sit on it.
Then I opened the bathroom door.
You ever see those bathtubs that look like someone carved them out of a glacier? Yeah, that. Plus a view of the Pacific Ocean that made me want to delete my entire life and start over as someone who only wears linen and says things like “I just need to reset.”
There was also a “pillow menu.” Like, I had to choose my preferred firmness level and fill type. I panicked and went with “medium goose down” because it sounded like what a calm, balanced person would do.
$1,000 a Night = A Butler Named Kenji
Apparently, having a butler is part of the deal at some of these five-star hotels or luxury resorts. Mine introduced himself as “Kenji” and said he’d “be available for anything I needed.” I tried to play it cool, but inside I was like, anything?? Like, emotional support? Laundry? Existential advice?
Kenji actually folded my clothes. Like, re-folded them after I already folded them (poorly). He also brought me local coffee every morning and arranged my sandals symmetrically by the door.
At one point, he even unplugged my phone charger and wrapped the cord into a neat little circle. That’s when I realized—I’d crossed into another universe.
The Food Situation: Art, Not Lunch
Let me tell you something about the food at these exclusive resorts—it’s not food, it’s performance art.
I ordered a “deconstructed poke bowl” because it sounded fancy, but it basically looked like the ingredients were having an awkward first date. The waiter described it as “a playful conversation between the ocean and the land.”
Buddy, I just wanted tuna.
But then I took a bite. And honestly? The ocean and the land were definitely vibing.
Even breakfast was over-the-top. Pancakes came with edible gold flakes and something called “hibiscus dust.” Like, who wakes up thinking, You know what this pancake needs? A flower’s ghost.

The Spa: Where Time Ceased to Exist
I booked a 90-minute massage. Or at least, that’s what I thought I did. The therapist—let’s call her Tasha—started by asking, “Would you like a guided meditation before your treatment?”
I said sure. Twenty minutes later, I was emotionally reborn. Then came the massage itself, which I swear transported me to another dimension.
At some point, I think I levitated.
When it was over, I just sat there in a fluffy robe, sipping cucumber water like a person who suddenly understood inner peace.
If this is what $1,000 a night buys, I get it now.
The Pool That Made Me Question My Life Choices
The pool was the kind of pool you see in influencer posts—mirror-smooth water, zero edges, ocean blending into horizon. I tried to take a picture, but my reflection was all awkward angles and sunscreen shine, so I gave up.
There were floating trays with champagne and strawberries. A couple next to me was having an actual photoshoot. Meanwhile, I was trying to open a sunscreen bottle without looking like I was fighting a small animal.
But even then—man, it was peaceful. You could literally hear your stress dissolve into the sound of waves.
The Little Things That Add Up In Luxury Resorts
Here’s what I learned: when you’re paying a grand a night, it’s not just about the view. It’s about how everything feels.
The towels? Thicker than my winter coat.
The lighting? Soft, like you’re permanently in golden hour.
The scent? I don’t even know—like a mix of coconut, vanilla, and someone’s good decisions.
Every time I left my room, someone magically refreshed it. Once, I came back to find a handwritten note from the manager that said, “We hope your day has been restorative.” Like, who says that? My building superintendent barely says hello.
Reality Check: Worth It?
So… is $1,000 a night worth it? Depends.
If you’re the kind of person who wants to feel like royalty for 48 hours—yes. 100%.
If you’re like me, and your bank account still sends passive-aggressive notifications after brunch—probably not sustainable. But man, it’s something everyone should experience once. It’s not about bragging rights. It’s about realizing what life feels like when you don’t have to think about anything.
It’s like pressing pause on real life.
For two days, I wasn’t a guy from Queens stressing about deadlines or waiting for the F train. I was a barefoot version of myself who ordered drinks with words like “essence” in them.
Bonus Round: Other $1,000-a-Night Spots People Swear By
If you’re in the “someday I’ll splurge” mindset, here are a few places that might ruin normal hotels for you forever:
- Amangiri, Utah – Desert views so cinematic, you’ll feel like you’re living in a Dune sequel.
- The Little Nell, Aspen – Where “après-ski” involves truffle fries and $40 hot chocolate.
- The Post Ranch Inn, Big Sur – Clifftop cabins that make you question city life entirely.
- Four Seasons Bora Bora – Overwater bungalows straight out of your screensaver.
(Trust me, Google them when you need a break from reality. Or don’t—because it’ll hurt a little.)
Final Thought about luxury resorts
When I checked out, I felt this weird mix of peace and heartbreak. Like, I’d just experienced a life I couldn’t afford to keep living.
The front desk clerk asked if I’d enjoyed my stay, and I said, “Honestly? Too much.” She laughed, but I meant it.
There’s something about staying somewhere that nice—you start treating yourself better afterward. Like, I now light candles while answering emails. That’s growth, right?
So yeah, $1,000 a night at luxury resorts isn’t just about extravagance. It’s about remembering what it feels like to breathe differently. Even if it’s just for a weekend.
And then? You go home. Back to Queens. Back to takeout and subways and noisy neighbors. But you carry that quiet luxury energy with you—at least until the next rent payment hits.