When is a five-star hotel not a five-star hotel?

Like the beasts in Animal Farm, some hotels are more equal than others - especially those with a five-star rating. So when is a five-star hotel not a five-star hotel? Well, Bord Failte and the Automobile Association would appear not to see quite eye to eye on the matter. This month, they both announced their listings for five-star hotels in the State.

Bord Failte had 18 hotels on its list, while the AA had just four. The AA's big four were the K Club in Kildare, newcomers Dublin's Merrion and the Radisson St Helen's, and Dromoland Castle in Co Clare. Bord Failte had listed three of these, as well as several of the older and internationally-known hotels, which people would traditionally associate with the top end of the market, such as the Kenmare Park, the Shelbourne, and Ashford Castle. So why did some hotels get five stars and others not?

This might seem like a straightforward question to which there is a reasonably straightforward answer but, following inquiries, this reporter can verify that trying to understand the ways of the hotel industry is not unlike struggling to follow the highways and byways of the Flood Tribunal.

To start at the beginning. Five-star hotel equals posh. We know that because that's what we've always been told. If there were six-star hotels, presumably they'd be posher again, but for some reason, the ratings system decided a long time ago to stop at five. It makes sense. Six neat stars on a sign would resemble the humble game of noughts and crosses. Stellas beyond the number six, particularly illuminated, might indicate to the potential guest the presence of circuses and amusement arcades up ahead, rather than room service and fluffy towels.

Both the AA and Bord Failte have brochures which set down grading guidelines for their inspectors to refer to while assessing premises. The Bord Failte one uses a system of tick-boxes for its assessments, whereas the AA goes into very detailed descriptions required for ratings from one star to five.

So what are some of the qualities required by the AA for its chosen few five-stars? One thing is fairly clear. More is obviously more in the minds of the AA judges. Take "window dressing". That's curtains in plain English. To qualify as an AA five-star, you need "window dressing denoting a degree of luxury, with e.g. features such as good use of interlining, swags and tails etc." Tough luck if your idea of a degree of luxury is clean lines and an uncluttered look. It's swags and tails etc all the way to reassure you you're getting your money's worth.

Then there are the beds. In a five-star, your bed will be "dressed to a very high standard, perhaps with valances and scatter cushions". Whatever about romantic weekends undressed a deux among the co-ordinated scatter cushions of the dressed bed, it's quite an arresting thought to consider business travellers making the transition from valance frills to the boardroom.

Still on beds, changing the linen is really where the stars get sorted out. In a one-star and two-star, the beds get changed "at least every four days". It also seems appropriate to spell out that the sheets get changed "for every new guest". In a three-star, they're changed every three days, every two days in a four-star and daily at the top of the range, where you can also expect an "evening turn-down service".

There has been some kerfuffle in the press about the AA calling Bord Failte "excessively generous" in its five-star ratings, and undoubtedly some people must have wondered why a hotel like, say, Ashford Castle, didn't appear to rate for the AA. Here is where Dublin Castle (intermittent star ratings given for daily entertainment) with its ongoing Flood Tribunal comes to mind, with its similar aura of nothing-is-what-it-seems.

Rory Murphy, the managing director of Ashford Castle (where they play opera music when they put callers on hold - surely the potential for a new star-rating section there, under "choice of music"?), guffaws politely down the phone when asked if they are miffed about being excluded from the AA ratings. He explains that, far from being peeved about being omitted from the AA list, they are delighted not to be on it. "We are in the Relais & Chateau organisation and when you're in that, you cannot be in any other organisation." To be rated by the AA, a hotel must pay a registration fee and then an annual membership fee. Only those hotels which choose to join will be rated. "They wanted us to join," Murphy explains, "but the Relais & Chateau organisation is far more prestigious."

If you are the type of guest who is guided in your choice of hotel by an award system, this is the point at which you will become very confused indeed. You might think that a really good hotel will be garlanded with a gamut of awards, but it is not so. The really good hotel chooses carefully what competitions it wants to enter, which is in essence what hotel industry awards are - competitions in which the prizes are bigger in some contests than others.

According to its Website, the 415 Relais & Chateau members, which are located in 42 countries, are "united not only by quality but also by the famous `rule of the five Cs - character, courtesy, calm, charm, and cuisine'." You can access the website in three languages - English, German, and Japanese - and I would dearly love to know how those five alliterative Cs translate in German and Japanese.

So stories about mystery guests from ratings organisations turning up to examine hotel premises is actually a bit of guff. Hotels will only be rated by organisations if they have decided to join them, hence they know someone will turn up sooner or later. And Bord Failte, whose rating system is tendered out to Tourism Quality Services, makes appointments for its assessors' visits.

"We're product advisers, not police inspectors," says Bord Failte's senior PR officer, John Brown. More than 800 premises were visited last year by Tourism Quality Services on behalf of Bord Failte. The AA visited "over 300" according to Lisa Duff Nugent, Hotel Services Supervisor. "We're very positive about the Bord Failte grading we got, because it's about service and not facilities," says John Brennan, general manager at the Kenmare Park. "We're five-star because of our service - not because we have a golf course in the grounds. Bord Failte grade by accommodation, food, and service. Additional facilities, such as golf courses or leisure centres, should be regarded as additional and not essential."

So what of five-star service? Service is one of those things which is easy to technically define - quick arrival of room service, substitution of feather pillows for allergy sufferers, carrying your bags from car to room - but almost impossible to define in its broader context. Those stories you hear about demanding guests aren't just urban myths.

Or, in the case of the Kenmare Park, a rural myth. John Brennan recounts the story of a foreign guest who was due to arrive last Christmas Eve with his family for a stay of 10 days. The guest phoned the hotel on the 23rd, requesting a choice of red setter puppies to be available for inspection the following day for his daughter's Christmas present. The folk at the hotel managed to find a red setter pup that passed muster. Pup is still enjoying the facilities of the five-star hotel, while it and the staff await clearance of papers to travel abroad. Now, while that's a fine story, does it illustrate first-class service or first-class servility?