I always thought that the best hotel experiences would come from something incredibly opulent, whether it be sleeping in a villa over the crystal blue waters of the Maldives, finding diamonds in my cocktail while having drinks at Marina Bay Sands in Singapore, dining under water in the Atlantis Dubai, watching the sunset in the deserts of Ras Al Khaimah while dipping in my private pool, or something else fantastical. But instead, the allure of super luxury is a competition meant to gratify ego rather than intrigue. The most thrilling hotel experience I've ever had was in a run-down lodge in the South of France, where we had to figure out if we could utilise the communal kitchen to cook a supper for five people on a budget of just five euros. We ended up giving away everything we had to another 20 lonely and poor travellers who, like us, were also graciously giving away everything they had. We all ended up buying beer with the five euros, got wasted, and making new friends.