Our room at the Royal Clarence hotel, now called Abode, Exeter, consisted of three walls and a cathedral. Not that the 14th century cathedral with its imposing twin towers was trying to be obtrusive. It was just that once you drew the curtains, the view of this gem of decorated gothic architecture dominated the room in a way that the TV or even the king-sized bed failed to do.

Apart from its benign influence — it's hard to swear or even slightly misbehave when the full force of 700 years of ecclesiastical magnificence is in your face — it's difficult not to believe that you've wandered into the set of a BBC classic serial.

It's a view that must have welcomed visitors to the Royal Clarence since it opened in 1770 as the very first hotel in Britain. Of course there had been places to stay before that, but they'd be called inns, taverns or perhaps hostels.

But William Mackworth Praed, a partner in an Exeter bank, decided that his impressive new building in the cathedral close deserved a better name -- so he went all posh and pinched the French name of "hotel". But then he also called it the "New Coffee House", which must have somehow spoiled the effect.

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Abode, Exeter

A cathedral in the bedroom and cracking food from the Michelin-starred Michael Caines

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Still, by using the word hotel he set in motion a linguistic oddity which meant that generations of posh people would pronounce it the French way with a silent "h" and proudly boast that they were staying at "an 'otel" and not just a common or garden "hotel".

In 1827 after a visit by the Duchess of Clarence, the hotel was finally given its proper name, although there now seems a tendency, especially on the hotel's website, to simply call it Abode, Exeter, which doesn't have quite the same ring about it.

Still, the 'otel, sorry hotel, retains its Georgian charm, complete with winding staircases and twisting corridors. Getting to our room meant tackling an obstacle course of ramps and stairs which could defeat some – as we found out later.

The evening we were there the hotel was hosting a lively and obviously well-catered for wedding party. None of the noise filtered up to us in our room on the fourth floor, but at about 12.30 and tucked safely in bed, I saw the door handle move slowly up and down. I went to the door, opened it, and found a female member of the wedding group.

"Could you let me through please?," she asked in the voice of someone who had obviously been having a good night but was now ready for it to end.

I had to explain carefully and sympathetically that there was no way through. This was a dead end. I then had to repeat this before the penny slowly dropped and our wedding guest wandered off, still looking slightly dazed, to pastures and rooms new.

The room - and the hotel as a whole - managed to pull of that difficult trick of being modern and traditional at the same time. It had oatmeal walls instead of chintzy wallpaper and a glass door that lead to a spacious and very well equipped bathroom. But just to remind you that this wasn't all 2009, there were exposed timbers, the room was an odd shape and there was a step up on the bathroom floor that I managed to trip over without fail every time I went in there.

Service was good and the welcome friendly, the only slight cause for concern being a call for a pre-dinner gin and tonic, which led after a longish delay to a less than chilled G&T without ice or lemon.

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