I live in Manchester. Not in a “Greater Manchester” kinda way, but in Manchester proper. You may wonder, therefore, why I stayed at the Palace Hotel in the city. I wondered too. But, I was at a national event organised by a national office, and in their national wisdom, they booked all of us in as resident conference delegates, even those of us who live within, um, walking distance. I do like my own place, my own kitchen, my own bed, but not in an obsessive way, so when someone else wants to pay for me to stay in a nice room where I don’t have to make the bed or clean the bath, and where I get 3 meals per day provided gratis, I don’t say no.

The Palace is quite an institution in Manchester, and if you walk past it early in the evening you often see tux-clad men and tarted up women tottering inside. It hosts a lot of balls, corporate functions and weddings but I wouldn’t really say it’s the type of place you go to stay otherwise. For one thing, it’s not cheap – rooms dip to about £75 if you manage to snag a good deal, but book near the time you want to stay, and insist on a certain date and you could pay £180 per room or more per night. For another, Manchester is not really the kinda place you come on a luxury holiday.

I went upstairs to find my room (quite a feat given the bizarre way in which they were numbered) and found my suitcase waiting for me in my sauna, sorry, room. Seriously, it was boiling hot in the way dusty old English hotels can be, but it wasn’t what I’d expected of the Palace. I couldn’t find a thermostat dial or air con switch, so I crawled on the floor and turned off the one radiator out of 3 that was switched on. 6 hours later when I went to bed the room was still toasty, and I never did find out how to open the windows.

The room had clearly been renovated recently and had a modern feel to it, with nice, contemporary art work on the walls, and a dubious faux-fur throw on the bed. The windows were floor-to-ceiling but only over looked an internal court yard. I had one double bed but all the rooms seemed to be different both in their styles and their bedding configuration (some had 2 double beds, some had 1 king size). They were different shapes and sizes too, and some were considerably nicer in their décor than others. We had tea and coffee making facilities but no mini bar, though given the prices in the bar-bar this was probably a good thing. Room service was available and the concierge were generally helpful, bringing up ice and glasses for champagne when asked.

Though I spent little time in it, the hotel has a airy bar next to the restaurant, though drinks were more pricey than we are perhaps accustomed to in the grim north – no one seemed to get change from a tenner when they went up to get a couple, and we discovered downstairs that a bottle of house wine was nearer £20 than £15.

Did I enjoy my stay? Absolutely. Would I pay £180 to stay here again? No. (That’s not just a reflection on this place…I wouldn’t choose to spend that much to stay anywhere.) But it’s old world glamour that you can’t possibly compare to the Travelodges and Premier Travel Inns of this world, and for one night this Palace can make you feel like a Princess.