One way to get away from it all in New York is to go up, and as the city’s tallest hotel, the Four Seasons gives ample opportunity to do this. In the large upper floor rooms it is easy to feel comfortably cocooned from all the city’s noise and dirt. Yet the views, looking down between tall buildings on snaking queues of yellow cabs are pure Manhattan. Rooms with their own terraces are even more atmospheric, though taking breakfast out there watched over by office-workers in adjacent skyscrapers does feel odd. You also have to be careful too not to leave the bath running. One of the Four Seasons’s hotel’s boasts is that its tubs “fill in 60 seconds”. Well positioned in central Manhattan at East 57th Street, this is among the most assured (and accordingly expensive) of this brand of hotels.

The Four Seasons Hotels take their guests seriously. If you're a non-smoker, a business guest, a regular or a first-timer, they like to know. Little acronyms along the top of the registration card act like a secret bar code for receptionists and, unless my receptionist was lying (unlikely) I was up for Special Attention.

The hotel's PR told me that the Four Season's rooms are both the largest and highest in the city. I can well believe it. How could they be bigger? Or higher? From my bed (down pillows and duvet, ridiculously comfortable, if you like it you can buy one from the Gift Shop), I could look out across half of Manhattan. And if I got up and walked the 40ft or so across the room to the window, I could peer straight down the tower of the tallest hotel in New York - and marvel at just how many yellow cabs are visible when you don't really need one.

I like the little things when I stay in a hotel room. The shower gel, the shoe-shine mitt, maybe a shower cap or two. So I was a bit miffed that, amongst the dozens of goodies in my suite, there wasn't a sewing kit. OK, there was a full working office, with printer and fax machine, data port and 24 hour broadband internet access. Yes, there were satin hangers, towelling bath robes, Bulgari toiletries, VCR, mini-bar and a TV in the bathroom. But there was no sewing kit.

Ever happy to complain, I got straight onto Housekeeping. Housekeeping were happy to help. Two sewing kits were whizzed up by "Rick" within a split second. (For the record, Housekeeping also stock contact lens cases, collar stays, luggage locks, curling irons, nail polish remover, tweezers, hairspray and a full selection of children's toys). Only after the kits arrived did I realise that Four Seasons' guests don't need to do their own sewing. If they have a loose threat on a suit, they probably just buy a new one - perhaps taking advantage of the Four Seasons' exclusive relationship with nearby Bergdorf Goodman (which means you can go in after-hours or first thing in the morning or just get someone to choose your suit for you and bring it up to your room.)

So, sewing kit aside, there was the only thing that marred my stay at The Four Seasons and that was that my boyfriend and I had a row. The long and the short of it was that as soon as we arrived in our room at the Four Seasons, Jon refused to leave. At all. He was like one of those embarrassing dogs that refuses to budge on the sidewalk. Forget seeing the sights, going for dinner at Nobu or visiting the Metropolitan Museum - as far as Jon was concerned, our room at the Four Seasons was the nicest place he'd ever been, and he wasn't going anywhere until we checked out.

This impasse lasted, well, pretty much the whole of our stay. We did venture out once for lunch but scurried back to our room as quickly as possible. The thing is: there's no reason to leave. The Four Seasons has luxury cracked. it's gorgeous and sumptuous and incredibly expensive, but it's also completely unpretentious. When means you can lie neck-high in three feet of Bulgari soap suds without feeling guilty. And once I'd had a couple of martinis in the Martini Bar and chosen a selection of videos from the hotel's film library, I didn't want to go anywhere either.

So, as night fell, we watched the city beneath us turn to starlight and then put Princess Bride on the VCR. New York looked wonderful but what could possibly be better than where we were? The answer is: nothing. Room 4003 had it all.