Valencia must be one of the nicest, calmest, cleanest places I've ever disembarked from a train. Suddenly I no longer felt tired or sticky; the welcoming streets were lined with orange trees and the hot sun was tempered with a slight breeze. A quiet turning off the main pedestrian thoroughfare, Martinez Cubells was two minutes walk from the Valencia Nord station and we wheeled the pram and luggage straight into the cool shiny lobby of the Vincci Lys.

CHECK IN
There were no issues with our prepaid voucher at check-in, but the receptionist held up a finger, signalling us to wait at the desk while she made phone calls in rapid Spanish. It seemed they'd somehow misunderstood our booking for a baby and instead of a cot, an extra bed had been supplied. We managed to persuade her that this was not catastrophic, that it could be dealt with later and got into the speedy lift to the 6th floor. The corridors were filled with deep pile carpet and inoffensive pictures of nothing, and key card in hand, we crept round a corner to our quiet end room.

THE ROOM
I opened the door to a generously proportioned luggage area which easily accommodated the pram and our excessive suitcases; the doorway to the left was for the bathroom and straight ahead was a sunny, glamorous room and French doors opening onto a balcony, the curtains blowing in the warm air.

The bathroom was everything I could have wished for after the smelly confines of the night train. Decorated in some kind of peachy stonework, there was a white sink below an enormous mirror and miniature soaps, squeezy shampoo and shower gel accompanied by several huge fluffy towels. There was not just a bath with a shower over it, but also a separate shower cubicle with one of those impractical but beautiful rain showers. The toilet and bidet were enclosed by a peculiar waist high wall which The Boyfriend was later to curse as he banged his knee on it. I immediately ran the bath and after sloshing around for a while, I rinsed my hair under the powerful shower attachment, in gorgeously soft water. It was almost a shame to have to get out and put on the bathrobe provided.

M&M was lounging in the centre of the bed with S the Giraffe and looked up at her clean mummy with wide eyes. Scooby Doo was on the telly in Spanish, but she was persuaded to take a bath in the sink. After this, the two of us lay on the bed admiring the whiteness of the sheets and the chandelier hanging above it. The bed was two singles pushed together and the extra bed was a third single. There was plenty of room, despite the three beds and even the armchair by the doors on to the balcony didn't crowd us. The neutral decor made everything feel light and airy and though there were pictures on the wall, these were so bland I can't even remember what they were of. Unfortunately, this dreamlike state wasn't just the result of so much relaxation; my cold had finally broken and my nose was streaming.

There came a muffled knock at the heavy main door of our room and I answered. It was the maid; she spoke no English and I spoke no Spanish, but I managed to gesture that the bed she was wheeling with her was not what we were after. On seeing M&M, she immediately began unfolding an expensive looking travel cot and once this was built and made up with sheets, I persuaded her to take the extra bed away with her. She was incredibly efficient and cheerful (not to mention strong), the whole process took only minutes, even with the distraction of our smiling niña, who commanded attention and praise.

M&M went into her new enclosure with delight and chucking her darling giraffe and a few other toys in there, I stepped on to the balcony to look for The Boyfriend, who had drifted outside to smoke and chat on his new iphone. The balcony was the biggest I've seen, more like a terrace and not overlooked at all. It was utterly peaceful and the view over the rooftops was breathtaking. The plastic table and chairs were lost on the vast tiled expanse and The Boyfriend was in the far corner, shouting distance away. I apprised him of the cot situation, getting a nod in return, and returned to the bed to watch English speaking channels and sniffle my way through a box of soft tissues from the well supplied bathroom. This was when I first noticed the lack of tea and coffee facilities.

When The Boyfriend returned to the room, he investigated the mini bar, but I now had a pounding head and nothing in there was going to help. Leaving him and M&M with instructions to let me back in, I headed down to reception to ask for 'Agua Caliente' in order to make myself a Lemsip. The bar staff had to desert their post, walk across the lobby and get me this jug of hot water from the restaurant, but they did so willingly and with a smile several times during the course of our stay. As I needed boiled water to give to M&M to drink, I did wish there was a kettle in our room to save me the trek downstairs.

I was feeling rough, we trailed across the street to a restaurant called Carpe Diem, for a quiet freshly made paella and didn't look round Valencia much, though the hotel was perfectly located for all the sights. Thanks to the supremely comfortable beds and the hefty dose of paracetamol, I spaced out almost immediately after and awoke the next morning to a perfectly acclimatised room and sunshine streaming through the curtains. By now I was mopping up my snot with the toilet roll (nicely folded to a point), so next sachet of Lemsip in my hand, I was anxious to get down to breakfast in order to find some hot water.

THE BREAKFAST
The restaurant had a gleaming buffet bar of delights, but we waited until coffee, tea and hot water for the Lemsip had been bought over to our table. There were no high chairs for our little princess, but she was easily accommodated in the totseat I'd brought with us, which fixes to ordinary dining chairs. The Boyfriend went up first, helping himself to the Spanish version of a cooked breakfast, with scrambled eggs and mixed fried peppers and tomatoes, then it was my turn. There was a selection of cereals, including muesli (a rarity in Spain) and dried fruits to top these. I also chose a strawberry yoghurt and some fresh fruit, before attempting to make some toast using one of those painfully slow conveyor belt toasters you only get in hotels.

Appetisers done and my daughter settled with some fingers of toast and slices of melon to keep her occupied, I returned for round two. There was a vat of fresh orange juice and I took a glass to keep me going... then little glass bottles of juice (I picked up a pineapple one and a peach one), next to these were hard boiled eggs, then a row of pastries. I was delighted to spot Carrot Muffins (a bit dry) and Chocolate Muffins (beautiful, with an oozing centre), then Cheesecake. The little individual cheesecakes were unbelievable, the most perfect, crumbly little portions of heaven. But then I saw the miniature Spanish omelettes. On my return to the table, The Boyfriend and M&M were deep in conversation with a Spanish lady and her little boy, who'd been persuaded to share his toys. I took this as an opportunity to pop back for a third helping of everything. In my defence, I'm still breast feeding and I was on holiday. And there's an expression, something along the lines of "feed a cold..."

RECEPTION SERVICE
When we finally managed to waddle back to the lift and pack up the mess of toys and clothes in our room, we realised that we'd somehow forgotten the Sat Nav and The Boyfriend's iphone charger. This meant we put the receptionist to the test a bit before check out and she did brilliantly, checking for us that we could rent a Tom-Tom at the car hire place and locating a charger in the Apple store at Corte Ingles, less than two minutes walk away. She was polite and cheerful throughout, as were all the staff we encountered.

OVERALL
This is a brilliant hotel to get away from it all, with huge, comfortable, quiet rooms, great service and a location right in the heart of Valencia. I would happily have stayed here a couple of weeks if given the opportunity and the only fault I can find is the lack of tea and coffee facilities in the rooms. We paid £100 for the night including breakfast and I think for the three of us, this represented real value.