Well-deserved side eye for those taps.

Against all expectations, it was spectacular

I'm a normal person with a normal job who would have felt equally at home in an Ibis Styles – but I'm a slave to curiosity, so I took the plunge to find out if the most folkloric hotel in the world is wearing anything under its proverbial fur coat.

So yes, I was cynical from the outset, and my expectations were modest anyway: I was there alone, for a one-night stay, in one of the lowest room categories (Deluxe Junior Suite, including the upgrade for booking via Virtuoso) – so not the type of guest they bring their A game for. I would not have been surprised had I been treated like any other tourist which sloshes in and out of the doors every day. I also spend around 80 nights a year in hotels like this, so there was no feverish, dream-come-true excitement putting pressure on the experience being "perfect".

Room

I expected to hate the decor. Along with the fear that you're staying in a tourist attraction, the design was the reason I avoided the Ritz before. However, when you arrive it becomes clear that it's done with a certain tongue-in-cheek aplomb (Exhibit A: those taps; Exhibit B: those light switches; Exhibit C: those baroque TV 'disguises'). The tangible result is campy and liberating and joyful – in other words, the perfect escapism you hope for in a hotel like this. It's not as self-consciously slick and sexy as the Hotel de Crillon, but I feel much more relaxed among all those tacky patterns and gilding.

Deluxe Junior Suite 456

I have nothing substantive to offer regarding the room and facilities: everything was a lovingly delivered, high-quality version, and just worked without any ifs-or-buts. At a push, I could say that it's mildly annoying that the path to the room resembles a shopping mall, and the Ritz has cynically monetized its own folklore in a few other ways, but ultimately I don't resent this commercialization because they're clearly working really hard elsewhere to remain true to this precariously lofty reputation. Yes, you could question the prices too – an espresso really does cost €11 – and it's annoying that there are no tea- or coffee-making facilities in the room, but if you don't want to pay those prices, you don't have to. There is free coffee available in the gym!

Service

This sense of escapism is elevated by the extraordinary care from the entire staff. They use a personable, witty and warm style resembling normal human banter, which made me feel like a regular from the moment I arrived. Every staff encounter made an especially positive contribution to my stay thanks to their easygoing nature and professional expertise. When the hosts seem to be at ease, then the guests relax much more quickly.

Garden, seen from Deluxe Junior Suite 456

Spa

The same spirit of joyous abandonment and caprice carries through to the spa: baroque music plays through underwater speakers, mosaic mermaids frolic underfoot, the "experience showers" are – for once – worthy of the name. Those showers are hilariously theatrical actually.

The ladies doomed to an eternity of Vivaldi through underwater speakers.

Apart from its aesthetic choices, it is an impressive facility by any measure. That must be the largest pool in any central Paris hotel. The generous proportions and airiness make it easy to forget that you are actually quite deep underground. There are gender-separated saunas, steam rooms and showers in small corridors off the pool. These lack the flair of the other facilities but do the job.

Male steam room, sauna and experience shower area. All of it.

Gym

It is straight-up a full-service gym with a full-time trainer on-site for all questions big or small. I can't think of any equipment which isn't there. The snack bar is extensive too.

Dining

Breakfast at L'Espadon was a joy too. It is served in courses, so make sure to allow time to enjoy it (but service is as prompt as you need it to be anyway). The pain perdu is decadent. For a sweet lunch, Mr Perret's creations at Bar Vendome were show-stopping. For the amount of creativity, labor and quality ingredients which go into his patisserie, €25 per piece does not feel unfair, especially in a city where a mass-produced eclair can cost at least €8.

Marble cake by Francois Perret at Bar Vendome

Overall

I promised myself beforehand that once would be enough in the Ritz, but that's a promise I look forward to breaking.