The Blue Mountains were already ancient when the Grand Canyon was just a wrinkle on Arizona's brow. Rather more recently, the Lilianfels mansion at Katoomba was built in the 1890s as the country residence of a former NSW Chief Justice at a time when Sydneysiders began to discover the delights of the Blue Mountains. Katoomba, some two hours drive west of Sydney, has roller-coaster streets that dip and climb past Edwardian folly hotels and Deco delight cafes. These old alpine icons, now tastefully restored, are drawing a new generation of the sort of romantic weekend wanderers who have been coming here from Sydney, and farther afield, for over a century.

Lillianfels Blue Mountains is an elegant country house whose views from Katoomba's famous Echo Point span the Jamison Valley. From here the World Heritage-listed Blue Mountains landscape floats away past the famous Three Sisters in a recession of misty ridges. The 85-room Lillianfels has recently completed an extensive makeover of all rooms, plus its lounge and bar areas. There is now an expanded spa, with four treatment rooms, indoor and outdoor heated pools, gym, saunas and steam rooms. There are also reading and billiards rooms, tennis courts and mountain bikes. As well as accommodation, Lilianfels also houses the fine Darley's restaurant.

Everyone was sorry. Terribly, terribly sorry.

You could see for miles yesterday, lamented the Sydney Heli-Scenic pilot as we glimpsed Sydney and the Olympic stadium through rents in the cloud from our very-latest, no-rotar helicopter.

Don’t bother with the scenic railway, grumped the driver who picked us up from the Megalong Valley once we’d landed. You can’t see a thing.

Oh I am so, so sorry about the weather, cried the marketing manager of Lilianfels hotel wringing her hands, when the driver dropped me off.

So was I - terribly, terribly sorry. For all that wasted anguish. For what I had in mind the weather was perfectly divine. Utterly sublime even for a dedicated sybarite.

Veiled by rain and ringed with cloud which clotted every crevice and clogged up the view, Lilianfels felt like the only place left on earth. A veritable castle in the clouds for one happy trapped maiden.

You see at Lilianfels luxury hotel, deep in the heart of the Blue Mountains, 90 minutes drive from Sydney, you can do everything or you can do nothing. You can hike, bike, horse-ride, shoot, play tennis or try aqua-aerobics in the indoor heated pool. At the right time of year you can be inspired by dancers, uplifted by opera or intellectually challenged at a conference.

Or, as I say, if you’re lucky you can do nothing. And nothing is rather nice at Lilianfels. First I tried nothing in my room. I tested the billowing bed, ate the homemade biscuits, found the satin-covered hotties (for those who don’t like air-conditioning), tried each and every classical CD and pulled back the pale pink silk curtains. Good. Nothing. Just the shadowy outline of an enormous pine tree and masses of white. The outlook for tomorrow appeared fabulously bleak.

Then I ate dinner at Darleys. Darleys is the restaurant in the rather grand old wooden house next door to Lilianfels hotel. It was once the home of the Darley family who built the house in 1889 and then named it in honour of their daughter, Lilian, who died of typhoid. These days Lilianfels is a favourite of lawyers on account of the fact that Sir Frederick Darley was once the chief justice and lieutenant governor of NSW. His bewigged portrait hangs importantly in the house.

Dinner at Darleys also comes with more than a backward glance at the past. Try the warm salad of boneless pig’s trotter with truffle oil and wild mushroom dust for starters. Follow that with steamed oxtail, beef and veal kidney pudding with roast shallots and buttered carrots.

Desserts " I’ve had a few " were a mix of the stylish (sorbets and soufflés) and best of all, the childish (gooey, fruity puds).

This was just the warm-up for the biggest dose of nothing I’ve been privileged enough to experience. Not long after falling out of bed the next day, I was once again horizontal and stayed that way for the best part of five hours during which time I was peeled, rubbed, massaged, oiled, steamed, bathed, revitalised, refreshed, manicured and pedicured to perfection. Personally I reckon this is what quality time really means.

Lilianfels is famous for its health club. Here specialists in naturopathy, herbalism, aromatherpy and massage line up to de-stress the city dweller with a variety of enticing treatments. You could try the three-hour relaxation health package, the 90-minute marine mudpack or the half-hour soothing eye mask or just use the steam room and spa.

Exhausted by all this pummelling and pampering, I only just managed to complete a historical garden tour with Colin Slade, the gardener, before collapsing with a good book into a chair by the fire in the large, cosy front room.

And somehow, despite all this luxurious lethargy, I slept 10 hours that night. Which was lucky since the next day dawned bright as a new coin and revealed an astonishing hitherto hidden fact.

Lilianfels doesn’t sit in the middle of a bowl of sodden clouds. It’s perched on the escarpment of the enormous eucalyptus-covered Jamison Valley, with the famous rock formation, the Three Sisters, to the left and the scenic railway to the right.

And in the sunlight they really are the Blue Mountains. Apparently the sun releases the eucalyptus oil in the leaves, which causes the blue haze over the region.

There was nothing for it. It was time to do everything. And thanks to the previous day’s concentrated relaxation, I actually wanted to.

So before I caught the limousine back to Sydney I walked to the Three Sisters, biked to nearby Leura, where the shopping and the food are second-to-none, and on my return threw my hot, sweaty body into the pool.

And then spent the next hour while waiting for the limo desperately trying to imprint my currently unwound, fresh-as-a-lettuce state onto my brain. Well, it’s either that or permanent residence at Lilianfels.