[Disclaimer – Please note that the views and opinions expressed herein are solely those of your bartender, and nothing whatsoever to do with his employer or hotel!]....... OK, I admit it, I’m new to this town….another piece of alcohol soaked jetsam to be washed up on your intellectual shores, and I’ll put my hand up again for yes, I am an immigrant as well.

Now don’t get me wrong, it was never my intention to come down here and take jobs from the good local Oxonians, but let’s just say the Randolph was to beautiful a hotel to refuse.

I’ve been in and out of bars of one kind or another for pretty much the last twelve years, mostly in five star hotels, either working or doing ‘research’ – the competitor analysis is a wonderful thing! And if I have learnt one thing from all this, which I feel obligated to share with you, my dear friends, it is this…… Five star Hotels work miracles!

It’s true, forget the parting of the Red Sea, when it comes to making the impossible possible you can’t beat a stay away at a lodging house with five golden stars above the door.

As a member of staff you hear of course all kinds of requests from your guests, but the most oft repeated lament must surely be ‘ but this is supposed to be a five star hotel, what do you mean you can’t….

Give me a table in a restaurant which is clearly full....... Serve fifty customers simultaneously in the bar....... Make me a full afternoon tea at four am....... Pour me a glass of single vintage, bottle fermented Madagascan scorpions piss (What do you mean you don’t have it! – This is supposed to be a FIVE STAR HOTEL!!!)....... Shampoo my dog....... Secure me a last minute booking at eight pm on a Saturday in Le Manoir, for me and eighteen of my friends....... And my all time favourite (as a bartender) Keep the bar open 24 hours…..’ Wells here’s the nub of the rub – 24 hour licence does not mean we are obligated to serve you and your rum addled friends till breakfast time. I’m sorry, really, it’s not that we want to go to bed (although we probably do) it’s more that your uncle Jim is asleep in the corner, Mavis and Sharon are speaking in tongues, you’re slumped on the bar counter demanding more Tequila shots and someone my friend, preferably someone with a sober head and plenty of experience dealing with liquor, needs to decide when enough is enough……ding ding….last orders at the bar.