The Luxury Taboo

We Germans travel, certainly. We are world champions of mobility, armed with sensible shoes and well-organized itineraries. But in the suites of the world, in the palaces of indulgence, we are curiously absent. Not entirely because we cannot afford to be there—though that is sometimes true—but because somewhere along the way we have developed a suspicion of visible pleasure. We board the airport bus while others are met at the gate. We compare hotel rates with forensic zeal. We have turned renunciation into a cultural achievement.

As a German-born Cosmopolitan, this fascinates me!