A calming and unexpected smell of incense greets me in the Ayrlington Hotel. As I check in I spy a beautiful stone Buddha down the hallway.

The receptionist leads me up past the statue, various other Asian artefacts and a great heap of green laundry bags on the landing. She’s a real sweetie and offers to recommend a restaurant for dinner, as the hotel serves only breakfast. I choose a nearby Thai (fits in with the general theme, see?).

The room — spacious, with a double and a single bed, peach-striped wallpaper adorned with flower prints, pink carpet punctuated by red armchairs, frilly pelmet — is spotlessly clean. It is also cold. So I turn all the radiators on and close the double glazing, which deprives me of fresh air while muffling traffic noise from the A36. I stick the kettle on (top marks for the china teapot) and wait for my mate Clare, who is still battling with Friday night traffic.

The receptionist calls to confirm the restaurant booking and I ask, en passant, if she has another twin — perhaps overlooking the “award-winning oriental garden”, the city and Bath Abbey? She does.

The night cityscape from “Carnation” is fab. The room, however, is tiny. I imagine two Americans, plus two Americans’ luggage, trying to get in. I decide to go back to ours across the hall.

“Bathroom’s a bit low-spec,” says Clare, when she shows up. I think she means spartan. There’s no time for ablutions anyway, we’re late for our table at Mai Thai (a great choice).

Next morning reception rings at nine to let us know breakfast in the dining room is served only until 9.15am. Whizzing past the green laundry bags again, we just make it.

The dining room has a marble fireplace and pretty oriental prints of vases and robes. Now we can see the carefully tended and tranquil garden, the soft yellow Georgian elegance of the city, and what appears to be construction work on a large pathway.

Clare’s sausages and bacon are good, although we break into charades trying to explain to the waitress what mustard is. I have a smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich. Not from the Ayrlington’s breakfast menu, mind; this is what I fill up on later, because I give up after a few mouthfuls of tasteless scrambled eggs and rubbery mushrooms.

The morning receptionist — another sweetie — says that we can leave our car in the car park while we go off to explore.

“It just wasn’t special,” says Clare as we leave, “especially for 160 quid.”

Bottom line: Sally Shalam paid £160 for a B&B double.

Need to know: The Ayrlington, 24/25 Pulteney Road, Bath (01225 425495, www.ayrlington.com).

Room: 6 out of 10
Food: 6 out of 10
Service: 7 out of 10

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