KB: On arrival, we were escorted across a wooden bridge to the famous ornate jewel-laden golden door.
JN: Halfway across, under the canopy of Camellia trees, they ask you to pause. The bridge changes direction. It goes fifteen degrees to the left. The idea is dark energies can’t follow a direction change.
KB: So they ask you to take a moment to reflect on what you want to leave outside the doors.
JN: To cast off anything unsavory.
KB: Right then a couple from New York blows past us. We hear them explain they’ve been here many times before. This was our first glimpse of another guest.
JN: The place runs on a weekly rhythm. A group arrives Sunday and departs on Sunday.
KB: The Golden Door warns you on the website not to bother notable people nor solicit donations.
JN: When we got to our rooms, I was shocked to see a printed list of the guests’ names and cities of origin.
KB: This way I was able to instantly Google and see we were sharing space with billionaires and authors and Gestalt therapists, oil heiresses, venture capitalists.
JN: You sent me a screenshot of an article about someone and his picture popped up on my phone screen, thankfully in front of nobody. I left my phone in the room after that.
KB: The confidence of giving guests a list, as if to say, we know you bastards want to know who you’re sitting with at dinner. We’ll save you the uncomfortable line of questioning: So what do you do?
JN: It gets it out of the way. So you can compose yourself in your room if someone important to you is there. So many details of the Golden Door were like that, clearly the result of the wisdom of the gazillion years they’ve been doing this. They also give everyone a chance to add their email to a list before the end of the week so no one’s trying to secure anyone’s contact.
