I'm prepared to bet that after we have travelled we rarely remember the name of that pope who commissioned that altarpiece, or which temple we saw on that rainy afternoon just after that problem with the passport.
But we always remember the people we've met. It is a curious thing that the lower end of travel accommodation - backpackers and b'n'b places - and, at the high end, luxury hotels, are the best places to encounter other travellers, have a drink and a meal with them, and exchange our stories.
In my experience you rarely meet people in a Best Western, Motel 6 or the lobby of a Hyatt.
I've always travelled on a limited budget so have usually sought out small, family run hotels or something other than chain motels. (I don't do backpackers; one too many Helgas in hiking boots did me in.)
But in the past few years I have been lucky enough to stay as a guest of the Small Luxury Hotels of the World chain. I consider this payback for some of the cockroach-friendly places I have endured.
Aside from the luxury aspect - beds the size of aircraft carriers, gracious staff, superb meals, spas and swimming pools - at these hotels you often meet other people.
The hotels rarely have more than 20 rooms so you find fellow guests - always polite, good humoured, having great stories and casually monied - in the restaurant or cigar bar, by the pool or swathed in towels in the sauna.
My first Small Luxury Hotel experience was at Eichardt's in Queenstown. At breakfast I met a young French woman who was living in New York.
She wrote for a weddings' magazine and it was her curse to fly around the world and check out luxury accommodation for American princesses looking for high-end honeymoon destinations.
She said the job involved long and arduous flights - like first class from New York City to Los Angeles, on to Auckland then Queenstown.
She went off for a trip on the lake to check it out for newlyweds, and a couple in their mid 30s arrived. He was Australian and she English. They worked in Hong Kong.
Banking was mentioned and they chatted about the politics of the new Hong Kong, market movements in Asia. They had come to Queenstown for a quick escape from Asia and to go skiing.
The day before, they had taken a chopper to the top of some remote mountain, been dropped off and skied down, then been picked up at the bottom and taken to the West Coast for a picnic with good local wines. No sandflies either, apparently.
Then they had been flown back to Queenstown at sunset, the long way round.
"Mate, it's a beautiful country you've got here," he said.
I quickly did the maths on how much this little break from banking must be costing and said, "I'll have to take your word for it."
<EM>Graham Reid:</EM> Top spots for chats
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