I’m Going to Fregate and You’re Not

I ain’t gonna downplay this.  I am more excited than a Philadelphia Eagles fan at a riot.  I, yes, me, the idiot who once compared a luxury hotel to dementia, have been invited to be among the first to stay on the new Fregate. Possibly the first.

You might be thinking: for someone who’s been gazing longingly at this launch like we’re about to get it on, could anything be better?  Why yes, imaginary person, thank you for asking.  There’s one thing we snobs love more than anything: having it to ourselves.  And then rubbing it in everyone’s face.  Yes, before the common folk are allowed to come and stay on this island, where the cheapest villa is $15,000 a night, I’ll be there, doing the Lord’s work.  Well, me and my family, because how can you truly know if somewhere is great before a four-year-old has had a chance to find the stickiest thing imaginable and rub it into a ten-thousand-dollar cream bouclé armchair?

I once called Kisawa a twice-a-decade kinda place.  This is the other one.  It’s the opening I’m more excited about than anywhere, even Laucala, with its two-year closure and richer owner.  I half suspect I’m only invited so the owner can win a bet, since I said it would take five years to reopen, and by inviting me now they get to finish just shy of that.  It can’t be my charm, as my last review wasn’t exactly glistening.  Or the one before that.  I said staying on Fregate could just be recreated at a zoo where fruit bats shat on you, and next to North Island, it felt like being on the Hindenburg after the fire.  So, kids, if you want to get anywhere in life, crush dreams.  The richer the person, the better.  They love it.

The rebuild of Fregate has been delayed, and delayed, and delayed.  Yet here we go.  It’s actually happening.  Like, really.  Pinky promises and all.  And it looks absolutely spectacular.

This is a pre-opening invite, hence why you’re not coming.  Sorry, not sorry.  My spending millions of dollars staying in luxury hotels doesn’t leave me with much use.  But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career.  Skills that make me a nightmare for people like quality control.  I won’t be picked for the next Noah’s Ark, make the essential-worker list in the next pandemic, be there when someone needs a light bulb changing, or be around when my kids wonder what a dad is.  I have no other redeeming skills whatsoever.  But telling you whether the hundreds of millions you just pumped into a private island was worth it?  That’s me.

My 40th started as Wild Hill with some friends.  Then it became Ol Jogi and Wild Hill.  Now it’s Ol Jogi, Wild Hill and Fregate, which might end up exclusive use too, because nobody else is allowed on the island yet.  Great for the kids’ sense of normality.  But forget them for a moment; this isn’t healthy for me either.