At first glance, Paracelsus Recovery in Zurich looks like a high-end luxury hotel.
The furnishings are soft. There are Molton Brown toiletries in the bathroom. A private chef toils silently away in the kitchen, and a Bentley purrs in the garage waiting to whisk patients to and from their private jets.
But Paracelsus Recovery isn't a five-star retreat, it's a state-of-the-art drug, alcohol and behavioural addiction treatment facility for the 1 per cent that costs around $104,681 a week. Opening its doors to a single patient at a time, Paracelsus Recovery began life in 2012 and has since become the go-to rehab for those with deep pockets (and problems).
Supermodels, big-name actors, businessmen, heads of state and even members of global royal families have checked into the discreet Zurich building.
"One actor was so drunk she literally tumbled off her private jet when she arrived," managing director Jan Gerber told The Telegraph last year.
"Another, a royal, woke up at the clinic with absolutely no recollection of flying halfway across the world to get there."
Paracelsus might be one of the most expensive but it's not the only rehab facility for the mega-rich. Addcounsel, Britain's first bespoke mental health service for the ultra-wealthy, offers a unique addiction or mental health treatment plan for the immensely cool price of up to $146,995 a week.
The business opened in 2016 and, like Paracelsus, treats only a few patients at any given moment, housing them in one of their mansions in the ritzy suburbs of Chelsea and Belgravia to receive around-the-clock therapy. According to CEO Paul Flynn, Addcounsel boasts a 90 per cent success rate.
So what attracts the uber-wealthy to a facility like Paracelsus, Addcounsel or Kusnacht, another one of the world's most expensive rehab clinics — also in Zurich — costing $139,470 a week?
Partly, it's the level of service. For those checking into one of these three facilities, the focus is overwhelming on them and their problems.
At Paracelsus, a live-in therapist, driver, yoga instructor, psychiatrist, housekeeper and nurse are at your beck and call at all hours of the day. Treatment, meals and exercise are tweaked to fit the client's needs, depending on if they're booked in to confront alcoholism, eating disorders, gambling problems or another addiction.
"Privacy is paramount, with every guest given a pseudonym and fake birthdate to be used in all communication. "A client's identity is not revealed to our team unless the client themselves wish to do so directly," Paracelsus' website reads.
The approach is the same at Addcounsel, where treatment begins with a rigorous detox before the one-on-one sessions with psychiatrists overseen by a "recovery manager". Here, too, are yoga instructors, private chef and mindfulness and holistic wellness guides ready for consultations.
The live-in portion of treatment usually lasts between six and 12 weeks, with months of after-care to ensure each patient is on a path to healthy recovery. The total bill, once it's all said and done, can tally in the $1.83 million region.
It's an eye-popping amount, far more than the already large fees charged by The Sanctuary in Byron Bay, one of Australia's most exclusive rehab facilities. A stay there will set you back $140,000 a month for, again, 24-hour care and restaurant-quality food.
Privacy is of the utmost importance at The Sanctuary, with no guest's identity ever having been confirmed, though rumours suggest Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell have been past visitors.
According to The Sanctuary's Michael Goldberg, it's not about the price, it's about the quality of care. "People say how can you charge $140,000, and I say there are over 100,000 cars in Australia worth over that, and these are people's live we're talking about," Goldberg told The Daily Telegraph in 2015.
The Sanctuary, Addcounsel and Paracelsus all boast significant success rates. But how can their methods fail when you consider how far each facility goes to create a comfortable space for their clients? Like at The Sanctuary, for example, where someone is employed to ensure not a single towel bears unevenly coloured fluff.
Paracelsus takes it one step further: Guests don't have to give away their phones when they arrive, their staff can be housed in a nearby luxury hotel and no request is too outlandish. Speaking to The Telegraph, Mr Gerber recalled a time when a huge American talk show host battling alcoholism was checked into Paracelsus. Every week, they flew her to the US so she could appear on television before whisking her back to Zurich to continue the treatment program.
For Mr Gerber, it's this element of total support that ensures the program's rate of success. "There are clients who wouldn't to go to rehab under any other circumstances," he told The Telegraph.
This is in stark contrast to Alcoholics or Narcotics Anonymous, which, when successful, ultimately leads to sobriety. Bob Poznanovich, vice-president of business development at Hazelden Betty Ford, one of the US' biggest treatment centres, is in favour of the traditional group therapy approach for that reason. "Some people with money think that value is related to price," he told The Financial Times. "If it costs more, it must be worth more."
Cost is certainly no indication of quality, but the glowing testimonials from Paracelsus speak for themselves. An American doctor, addicted to prescription medicine, alcohol and cocaine, was fired from her job because of her disease, at which point her husband checked her into Paracelsus.
"My stay has resulted in lasting friendships and even greater gratitude," her testimonial reads. "Also, I was impressed by the sophistication of the program, which combines many essential elements into one consistent and comprehensive addiction treatment program that is unparalleled."
Unparalleled, comprehensive and consistent. Sounds pretty good, right? As long as you can afford it.