In the lap of luxury at Singapore's swankiest hotel

The drawing room at the Raffles recalls an elegant past.

Of course I don't like to sound as though I'm swanking, but on the evening when I could have collected two travel journalism prizes at the Qantas Media Awards I was instead relaxing at Raffles Hotel in Singapore.

We were enjoying a sumptuous high tea in the grandly appointed Tiffin Room, when I happened to let slip to the hotel sales manager that the editor had rung offering to fly me to the awards function - usually a sign you've won something - but I had no hesitation in saying, "No thanks, I'd rather stay at Raffles".

The sales manager seemed impressed by this - in fact he even called over the hotel manager to pass the news on to him - and we then had a hilarious discussion about setting up a television link so I could be beamed into the Qantas ceremony the way they do in the Academy Awards.

The prospect of appearing on screen in the Michael Fowler Centre live from the famous Long Bar at Raffles, taking a long sip on a Singapore Sling, and saying, "I'm teeeerribly sorry I can't be with you tonight, but I'm slogging my guts out in Singapore," was rather appealing.

Unfortunately it didn't happen. So as the next best thing, I thought I'd tell you about it.

Not so much because of the awards as because it's hard to think of anywhere better than Raffles to celebrate a special occasion, and I know a lot of people are deeply envious of my wife and me for being able to stay there.

It's not cheap, of course, but it's a grand experience, the sort of thing everyone should be able to try once in a lifetime.

The experience starts as you sweep up to the elegant, tree-lined main entrance, to be greeted by the doorman, a 2m tall Sikh, resplendent in full turbaned regalia - and, I couldn't help noticing, a pot belly - with the words, "Welcome to Raffles, sir".

Then a bevy of uniformed footmen sweep open doors, levitate luggage and usher you into the majestic foyer.

It's rather like walking into a temple, a place of deep serenity, with lofty ceilings, timeless music, elegant decorations and priests in special costumes busily performing mysterious rituals.

And, as with any visit to an unknown temple, the intruder feels slightly nervous about being dressed inappropriately or doing the wrong thing.

But Raffles is a temple to hospitality and its priests are dedicated to making newcomers welcome.

There is, for instance, no need for a mumbled query about whether they've got your reservation, no exhausting wait in the lobby while the endless paperwork of checking in is completed.

"Mr Eagles?" says a smiling acolyte, who somehow knows my name (apparently they have a meeting each morning and discuss the guests arriving that day). "Please follow me. I'll take you to your room."

Up the magnificent central staircase we go - eyes growing wider by the minute - past the James Michener suite, along a veranda screened by the frangipani trees growing in the grassy courtyard below, the air sweet with their blossom, to one of the gallery suites.

This is the oldest part of the hotel, built not long after it opened in 1887, and simply oozing colonial atmosphere. Our suite is truly enormous, the size of a small house - though it's apparently one of the smaller suites, a mere 67sq m, compared with the 263sq m Sarkies suite - and lined with marble, polished teak and whitewashed plaster, ceilings at least 6m high, and furnished with antiques.

There's a dining area, a parlour, a vast bedroom with a chaise longue - I don't believe I've lounged in a chaise longue before - a dressing room and a bathroom with a marble bath you could just about swim in.

Our valet is on hand to meet us with a cool drink, our luggage is discreetly deposited in the storage area, and only when we are relaxed and seated in the parlour - what a great word - is the paperwork sorted out.

The acolytes vanish and we are free to enjoy the unaccustomed luxury. As my grandson Geoffrey would say, "Yeehoo!" We were like kids let loose at Lollipops.

Our suite was amazing. Two television sets. Two phone lines. A leather wallet for the television and sound system controls. A proper bedside clock instead of those glowing digital things. Bathrobes so thick you could wear them in a blizzard. Oriental carpets on polished teak floors. A bowl of exotic fruits. Flowers. Chocolates. A mini-bar filled with classy wines.

At night when they turn down the bed they also set out pairs of slippers and freshly laundered footmats, and they leave a little bedtime story, one of a collection called Fables from the Exotic East, just in case the modern novels on the bedside table or the 10cm-high pile of the latest magazines aren't enough.

When your paper arrives in the morning the wrapper advises, "If the news today should overwhelm, healing is available at level three" - home of the hotel's Amrita Spa.

I read the paper while enjoying breakfast in our private dining room (as one does). My wife had a glass of fresh guava juice, pancakes with fresh strawberries, maple syrup and cream, and English breakfast tea (of course). I had the Singapore breakfast with chicken-rice porridge, pork dumplings and assorted sauces and spices, some palate-cleansing local fruits and jasmine tea.

After that, well, you could easily spend days just exploring the hotel. There are long corridors filled with photos of the famous personalities who have stayed here (some of whom have had suites named after them): Noel Coward, Somerset Maugham, Charlie Chaplin, Ava Gardner, Andrew Malraux, Pablo Neruda, Douglas Fairbanks, Mary Pickford, assorted US presidents, most recently George Bush and Bill Clinton, countless prime ministers, previous Princes of Wales ... the list is endless.

While we were there the Prime Minister of Pakistan was a guest, causing lifts to be temporarily closed and foyers filled with gun-toting security men. The week before the King of Morocco had arrived, his luggage apparently taking 11 hours to unload.

Raffles even has its own museum to record the history of the hotel, the legends that have grown up around it - for instance, while British forces were surrendering to the Japanese in 1942, a gathering in the ballroom was offering a spirited rendition of There'll Always Be An England - the people who have stayed there and the S$160 million ($136 million) restoration, for which the hotel was closed for two years in 1987.

But, if you've grown tired of history, you can always get the valet to bring some tea and relax in the cane chairs on the balcony outside your suite, sit in the gallery above the foyer and read the Wall Street Journal while listening to the tinkling of the pianist in the Writers' Bar below, go for a swim, play billiards - in the room where an escaped tiger was famously shot in 1902 - or check out the 18 restaurants and bars, or the 40 shops selling luxury brands from Tiffany to Swarovski.

The bard of Britain's colonial era, Rudyard Kipling - another to have a suite named after him - said in 1899: "When in Singapore, feed at Raffles."

So, in order to savour the full Raffles experience, we lunched at their fine dining restaurant, the Raffles Grill. This is unashamedly European, well, French really, with a beautifully restored formal dining room, the finest of silver service and proper standards of dress.

If necessary the maitre d' - surprisingly, perhaps, the possessor of a North American accent and a droll sense of humour - will find you a jacket or a tie should you arrive in a state of deshabille (I had my own jacket and tie, since you ask).

Not only is the food French in style and the resident chef French, but the menu is prepared under the overall supervision of Michelin three-star chefs Jacques and Laurent Purcell, owners of Le Jardin de Sens in Montpellier.

We had a set menu of ragout of blue lobster followed by pan seared smoked salmon, both accompanied by superb French wines, and clafoutis of banana with passion mango fruit sorbet, with - possibly as an acknowledgement of my accent - a Cloudy Bay late harvest riesling. C'est magnifique.

The other part of the Raffles experience you simply have to enjoy is, of course, high tea in the Tiffin Room (fortunately we were able to spread all this eating over three days). The room is redolent of the Raj era, with white-jacketed waiters wearing badges once used to identify water carriers.

There's an absolute mountain of sandwiches, savouries, pastries, cakes and scones, not to mention an array of oriental sweetmeats, to enjoy with a refreshing pot of Earl Grey tea (what else?).

Oh, and we mustn't forget the Long Bar, where a century or so ago Hainanese bartender Ngiam Tong Boon concocted the first Singapore Sling.

You haven't really been to Singapore if you haven't leaned back in your chair, sipped a couple of Singapore Slings, cracked a couple of peanuts and tossed the shells on the floor - that's part of the tradition - and exchanged tall stories.

I really am sorry we weren't able to organise a television camera to beam pictures of my session there back to the Qantas Media Awards. The truth is there's nothing better than a good swank. And a couple of nights at Raffles is worth swanking about.

* Jim Eagles stayed at Raffles with the help of House of Travel, Air New Zealand and Raffles Hotels & Resorts

Singapore Money

The currency is the Singapore dollar, and $1 will buy you about SG$1.14. Credit cards are widely accepted and ATMs readily available.

Getting there

House of Travel has four-night packages to Singapore from $2789 (plus taxes, etc) per person, share twin. The package includes return airfares on Singapore Airlines, four nights at the Raffles Hotel, return airport transfers, a half-day city tour, and high tea at the Tiffin Room at Raffles Hotel. Special conditions apply. Contact House of Travel on 0800 838 747.