What would our rock royalty do without hotels to smash up? Lorne Jackson meets an author who has followed the trail of decadence.

When most people book into a hotel, they feel the need to check a few basic amenities.

Are the pillows nice and fluffy? Is room service available? Does the window afford a panoramic view of golden beaches and twinkling coastline?

However, when a rock star checks in for the night, he has much more serious considerations to mull over.

Is his room sufficiently spacious to stack 20 giggling blonde groupies, end-to-end?

Is the flushing mechanism in the toilet efficient enough to get rid of a kilo of cocaine if ten burly police officers explode through the door?

And, most important of all, is there a TV to heft through the window, without a moment’s notice?

Rock stars experience hotels in much the same way as toddlers take pleasure from ball ponds.

In other words, they romp, stomp and riot.

Rock fan, Greg Simmons, knows this only too well.

That’s why, when he split up with his long-term girlfriend, he decided to take the rock route to inner peace and harmony.

He checked into the Chateau Marmont, one of the most famous hotels on the planet.

It was a clever move – and one that paid off.

As he was relaxing in the hotel’s restaurant, he immediately spotted movie star, Scarlett Johansson.

At another table was Flea, the bass guitarist from rock band Red Hot Chili Peppers.

None of this should have been surprising. The Marmont is famous for its five star luxury – and five star guests.

Rock royalty have always adored the swanky joint.

It was in this particular LA hotel that Led Zeppelin drove their Harley Davidson motorbikes into the lobby.

The Doors singer, Jim Morrison, also dangled precariously from a window.

In more recent times, Lily Allen took up temporary residence. The hotel was her US base when she wrote the song F**k You.

The ambience must be inspiring, because Greg also cranked up the creativity while staying there.

It was here that the 32-year-old Brummie decided to write a travel guide focusing on rock music and madcap behaviour.

The completed volume – Rock & Roll Hotels – Sex, Drugs, Fluffy Pillows – is out now.

“I initially went to the Chateau Marmont because I’d started this novel, which was a personal dispatch of woe,” says Greg, who lives in Great Barr.

“I’d come out of a long relationship, and we’d sold the house, and I was just sleepwalking my way through a nine to five job, which I was hating. I was a copy editor, and it really was no fun at all.

“Then, in a moment of clarity, I decided I had to get away. I’ve always been an avid reader of rock biographies, and I knew the importance of hotels in so many rock and roll stories.

“So I said to myself: ‘That’s it. I’m heading to the Chateau Marmont.’”