La Valise Mexico City

It must be a kind of sixth sense – that, or Google – but our host Ana knows exactly who we are when we arrive for our stay at La Valise in Mexico City. She greets us the instant we push open the tall white door on a corner of Tonala, a gorgeous, tree-lined street in the trendy Roma district and leads the way to our room on the second floor without even asking our names.

There are only three rooms at La Valise, based in an early 20th-century French-inspired building. The most sought after is undoubtedly La Terraza, on the top floor, which has a king sized bed on rails, so you can wheel it out to siesta al fresco in the afternoon, or to sleep under the stars. The concierge will even set up a projector if you ask nicely, giving new elegance to the ritual Netflix and chill.

The other rooms are El Patio, which has a hammock in an interior courtyard, and our very own La Luna, the middle suite, so called because of the giant rotating moon sculpture that separates the bedroom from the living area.

Ana gives us the tour. The graphic patterned kitchen has black marble surfaces, a nespresso machine and – most importantly – a fridge stocked with complimentary beers and sodas.

French-Mexican designers Chic By Accident are responsible for the art deco touches, including a black fibreglass coffee table and twin upturned chrome lamps on leather-covered columns.  The couch, long enough for Mr Smith to stretch out on completely, is black velvet with gray piping, with light covers thrown over the arms to snuggle up under after hours.

We’re shattered from a long day of travelling, so I make my plans for the evening the minute I spot the roll top bath and mandarin salts in the enormous bathroom. This and the separate toilet are brightened by windows overlooking an internal courtyard. A vintage leather chair and two robes hang in the hallway between the two.

While the guest house doesn’t have a separate restaurant, concierges are on hand to deliver room service. Mr Smith cracks open the Coronas and we pursue the menus in the room for nearby Rosetta – which is, the menu proudly informs us, ranked 33rd on the San Pellegrino World’s Best Restaurants list – and Taqueria El Califa, a popular local taco spot.

A long soak and a rinse in the spacious rain shower among the dramatic Sixties tiles, and we are snug in our waffle-towel robes ready for the knock at the door. Caesar, another friendly concierge, delivers our feast from Rosette: burrata bathed in anchovy jus, tortellini in a poultry broth and a salt-encrusted sea bass, plus a big brown bag of melt-in-the-mouth focaccia.

After dinner, with a turn of the fibreglass moon, we are installed in the gigantic bed. The room has air conditioning but the careful location of the bedroom in the inner room of the suite and layers of light bedding mean we escape without using it, waking only when dappled sunlight filters past the moon and onto the bedroom walls.

It quickly becomes clear that nothing it too much to ask for the hotel staff – we get to know four by name. They are available at any time of day or night to help guests, refill the fridge and, as happened to us, unlock the safe when we bungle the code at 9.30pm on a Monday night, before an early flight the next day.

In the morning Ana arrives with a tray of complimentary breakfast: fresh juice, bowls of fruit, granola and yoghurt and some pastries. Coffee comes in a variety of Mexican and international blends from the Almanegra coffee bar on the ground floor, which is handy, because neither of us can work out how to use the Nespresso machine.

We open the French doors and plan our day in Roma. The district sprung up when wealthy Mexicans moved west from the city centre and so its shaded avenues are full of hidden design shops, bars and restaurants.

Down Jalapa we discover three record shops and a fantastic little bookshop called La Incredible Libreria, which also sells art, stationery and curiosities. Round the corner on Zacatecas, Broka Bistrot is only visible after lunchtime, when a door is propped open showing the way in from the street. Behind a curtain we find a breezy hidden terrace, open to the sky, where a whole artichoke soaked in pesto and served with a creamy sauce is the perfect compliment to a cocktail or two.

The margaritas are plentiful and cheap at the nearby Embajada Jarocha, a Mexican haunt where live music entertains locals into the small hours. We are blown away by the tasty shrimp ceviche and sink several margaritas, though not enough to give us the Dutch courage to join the families on the dancefloor. Several hours later, we stumble back to La Valise and start to type in the code to open the door. It springs open before we can finish and Cesar appears, welcoming us with a smile.

We’re still wondering how the staff at La Valise seem to know what we need before we need it. But we’re certain that this is one hell of a place to stay.