Walk into the Durrants Hotel reception and you’ll be in no doubt as to the sort of experience this hotel offers.

There’s wood panelling on all sides, a rich regal colour scheme, and all the brass fittings are polished to a high sheen, right down to the bell on the marble-topped reception desk.

From across the desk peers an exquisitely-suited receptionist in old-school starchy uniform with a courteous offer of help.

Check-in was swift and within minutes another immaculately-dressed staff member was showing me to my room.

It was just on the right side of cosy, and overlooked a quiet cobbled mews – quite a feat for a property so centrally located. It’s just a ten-minute walk to Oxford Street, and two-minutes to the chichi Marylebone High Street, with its boutiques, cafes and smart restaurants.

The hotel is a converted Georgian townhouse, so although you never get a feeling of space, its charm is the original features like plasterwork, fireplaces and tall skirting boards.

The decoration in my room was just like the rest of the hotel – traditional but not overly chintzy, with plenty of creams and neutral tones to calm the deep maroons and navys. The furniture was mostly polished mahogany and the bed had a soft, homely, quilt laid over the end.

The hotel has 92 bedrooms over four floors, all with televisions, trouser press, hair dryer, Roger Gallet toiletries and plug-in internet (£10 for 24 hours), and most with air conditioning and safe. The back-out blinds and curtains in my room were very effective at blocking out light – handy for those whose body clock is still adjusting to GMT.

The bathroom was spick and span in veined grey and white marble with a quick-filling bath and good shower, but I was disappointed by the absence of bathrobes.

The hotel offers room service during certain hours, but I loved the suggestion to “call the Night Porter” if I wanted a late-night snack. I imagined the suited gentleman from the lobby heading to the kitchen to don an apron and butter bread for my cheese and pickle sandwich.

I didn’t have time for a pre-dinner drink, but popped my head into George Bar to find it just as I’d imagined – an open fire, lather banquettes and more gleaming mahogany.

The hotel’s Grill Room restaurant is cosy, but with a formal air that makes diners speak in hushed tones. Silver cutlery sat on starched white table cloths and we had exemplary silver service from waiters who’ve clearly made the job their lifelong career.

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