A point underscored with aplomb by Hotel Splendide Royal Paris, which occupies a 19th-century mansion house a stone’s throw from the Champs-Elysees and President Macron’s Parisien home, the 365-room Elysee Palace. Grand company. But the Splendide Royal holds its own. It only has 12 suites, a drawing room and a restaurant, but it’s exquisite – a pocket-palace. My partner and I, and our four-year-old daughter, spent the night in the fourth-floor Suite Elysee (room 401), which would get the royal seal of approval from King Louis XVI and any French monarch before him you care to mention. It was a 700-square-foot haven of hushed elegance, soothingly luxurious with regal flourishes – think ornate lampshades, oil paintings and beautiful furniture embellishments – and hues that ebbed from white to cream to gold. The first order of business was to soak it all in while reclining on the plush sofa in the living room and quaffing Champagne offered as part of the checking-in process. This area contained a loo and a big wall-mounted TV, plus a kitchenette complete with a sink, microwave, Nespresso machine and fridge. By the sofa was a mini wine fridge stocked with yet more Champagne and fine wines, including two classy Italian reds – Montepulciano and Barolo. The adjoining bedroom housed a mammoth bed smothered in fine linens and to the left a dressing room with double wardrobes leading to a marble-clad en-suite bathroom with Lorenzo Villoresi toiletries, marshmallow-soft robes, a double sink, a separate shower and another separate loo. In many ways, a pocket-palace within a pocket-palace. What’s more, the Wi-Fi for the room was in a class of its own – all we had to do was select ‘Wi-Fi Room 401’ for instantaneous access to a full-fat turbo-charged signal. No sign-in. No password. Downstairs is the hotel’s renowned Italian restaurant – Tosca. Sadly, it was shut when we visited for the night, but we did get to ensconce ourselves in the sumptuous venue for breakfast, which was a joy. Pain au chocolat and croissants were offered from a basket and as I sipped a superbly smooth coffee I perused the menu, which explained the provenance of the fare on offer. The bread and pastries come from a local Parisian baker, the jams are by Lise Bienaime at La Chambre aux Confitures, the tea by Dammann Freres (King Louis XIV, I learn, granted Sir Damame the ‘exclusive privilege’ to sell tea in France in 1692). And the milk? That’s from the Laiterie cooperative de Verneuil courtesy of cows raised on the pastures of the ‘beautiful Touraine region’. Quality produce – and I can vouch for the cheese omelette whipped up by the chef, too. The service, meanwhile, was faultless – our waitress and waiter impeccably polite. Young, but their manners were from another era. The reception staff, too, displayed old-school courtesy, standing up behind the desk when making conversation and helping to make this fine-tuned hotel impossible not to fall for.