The concept of the seven-star hotel has always been somewhat foggy. Although no official rating system has incorporated this new level of extreme luxury and service, it has been self-awarded by the flashy super-hotels of the Middle East, Dubai's Burj Al Arab and the Emirates Palace in Abu Dhabi.
This year the Rixos Premium Hotel Belek opened in Turkey, claiming to be Europe's first seven-star. It's not surprising to find it on the outskirts of Antalya, a Mediterranean resort that has become something of an accommodation theme park thanks to the development of several gimmicky luxury hotels, including the Adam and Eve, which touts itself as 'the world's sexiest hotel'.
Sheer size is the Rixos's USP. It is a monster of a hotel, covering 350,000 acres and built at a cost of £80m by the Turkish Rixos chain. The map of the grounds looks like one of Alton Towers - cartoonish, with areas divided by stretches of garden and lakes, and 66 different facilities marked, among them a waterpark and an amphitheatre. It is so colossal you easily become lost, and it takes me a frustrating half hour to find my way to breakfast. There are 12 restaurants, and the corridors are the length of football pitches, full of boutiques selling designer clothes and Turkish rugs. On the way I stumble across French Street, a none-too-convincing reproduction of a quaint continental lane, like a museum's replica Victorian village. Thankfully, there are no drama students dressed as chimney sweeps here; but a fake rainstorm is staged daily, with thundery audio effects, lightning flashes and sprinkler system spitting from the ceiling.
Outside, the grassy grounds leading down to a stretch of golden beach are packed with activities. There is a climbing wall, skate ramp, trampoline, beach volleyball, 10 tennis courts, playgrounds, archery, table tennis, a cinema, dance studio, football pitches, gondola rides along the lake and watersports. The point of the hotel becomes clear - it is heaven for kids. There is even a Troy-themed waterpark with rapids, curly slides and a 25-metre wooden horse.
Next door is the dolphinarium. I am forced to inspect it by Volcan, the hotel manager. Dolphins circle a cringingly small pool to a pumping dance soundtrack, and a few minutes into the show I'm horrified to see the trainer leading a performing walrus out onto the stage. The creature is wearing a sweatband, for god's sake. It drops to the floor to do press-ups and sit-ups, then stands upright while the trainer produces a microphone. The dance music cuts out and a wailing ballad drains from the speakers while the walrus sways, mimicking a karaoke act.
The whole thing is gruesome and ridiculous. It would be funny if it weren't so sick. Volcan doesn't really get my point when I say that these creatures are amazing enough behaving naturally in the wild; capturing them and forcing them to act human is demeaning. 'But they are only animals,' he laughs. I get a similar reaction when I ask about the hotel's eco credentials: 'It's just not something we've thought about.'
Volcan believes the facilities at the hotel justify the seven-star claim, and you can't argue with their quantity - it's the quality I question. The restaurants are good but not mindblowing; the decor throughout is fancy and grand but rather lacking in style; the bedrooms are modern but bland; and service is standard.
I am more persuaded by the luxury villas in the gardens. These are sensational, with private pools and gardens, theatrical outdoor dining, cool modern rooms and butler service. The spa is stellar, too, with an opulent marble Turkish hammam surrounded by little curtained rooms draped in rich red fabrics. It is a fantasy harem brought to life, with sex slaves replaced by jolly masseuses.
The tranquillity of the indoor pool is disrupted somewhat by the raucous group of Russian businessmen who delight in dive-bombing each other and screaming down the slide. Some of the drunker ones turn up at the excellent gym clutching cans of beer, and one falls flat on his face off the running machine after trying to mount it on full speed.
The fact that the hotel is all-inclusive, slightly old-fashioned and soulless, and so excessively big as to be unmanageable for the guest, might be off-putting for some, yet the Rixos will undoubtedly have wide appeal. Families will love it and its spa, yoga tents, designer boutiques and proximity to historical sites will attract others. But for all the fun and games, the fake rainstorms and the arrant magnitude of this gaudy megadrome, I think the walrus would agree that it just hasn't earned seven stars.
Essentials
Doubles at the Rixos Premium Belek (00 90 242 710 2000; rixos.com) cost from £73 a night all-inclusive. Treatments and some activities cost extra. Flights from London to Antalya with Cyprus Turkish Airlines (00 90 392 231 4142; kthy.net) cost from £150 return.