If there is such a dreamlike quality to Wildflower Hall, it's because it was one. Lord Kitchener dreamt up a little wooded haven in the hills around Shimla. And being the British Commander-in-chief, he had the wherewithal to make it happen. After the English folded up their show and left, it was converted into a hotel and for years the ITDC tried, rather valiantly, to keep the place running, frayed carpets, slow service and all. But, despite its shortcomings, it was part of the local lore and friends scribbled down directions urging you to stop by, should you tire of Shimla's vandalism and seek serenity.

Then you heard it had burnt to the ground mysteriously, like most heritage buildings do and its loss was mourned by all those who had been touched by its enduring old-world charm. Now, the Oberoi Group has resurrected the property. Wildflower Hall, Shimla in the Himalayas, an Oberoi Resort towers up in the mountains like a jewel encrusted on a pine-scented emerald spur - fairy tale turrets and all.

We drive in as the evening settles like a sigh on the mountains, after a spectacular ride up the slopes, where passionate flame-of-the forests fired up the mountainsides, jacarandas swayed vainly, weighed down with their purple blossoms, while now and then, an apple tree would preen, a wild cherry would wave.

At Wildflower Hall, the welcome is more formal. The entire staff is lined up, hands folded in namaste; there is even a lady with an aarti thali! Scruffy and windblown, we pat down our hair self-consciously as we step into the hotel's spiffy lobby - all Burma teak, gleaming glass chandeliers and Bokhara carpets. From a portrait at the end of the lobby, Lord Kitchener glares down somewhat disapprovingly. A cavernous Burma teak panelled elevator ferries us to our floor. I'm handed the keys to room 212. It's beautiful. There's a bed you could get lost in for days. Huge picture windows frame a charming view. A well-manicured garden set against the backdrop of the cedar forests. In keeping with the hotel's 'flower theme', orchid petals float about in little glass bowls and I find I share the room with a blazing red carnation. Your instinct is to fling open the windows and invite the scent of the cedars into your room, but a little note by the bedside cautions: do not open the windows during the daytime to safeguard your belongings from the monkeys.

All 22 acres of Wildflower Hall sits rubbing cheeks with the Shimla Water Catchment Sanctuary where we're told by the hotel's naturalist later that evening, that black bears, and leopards and deer roam free, but unlike our Mumbai's quadrupeds they have enough elbow room among the pines and they hardly ever venture to join you for high-tea.

So we sit undisturbed, with David Mathews, the hotel's general manager, nibbling on smoked salmon sandwiches and sipping fragrant Darjeeling tea down at the Cavalry Bar. He tells us how the British chose the splendour of Mashobra to build their country homes as a sanctuary away from the heat and dust of the plains and you can see why. Huge bay windows take in a wall to wall view of the Himalayas. On a clear day you can lean over and touch them…almost.

The most breathtaking part of Wildflower Hall is its conservatory. It's suspended dramatically in the lap of Mashobra and you can spend long hours gazing out at the panoramic vistas over a cup of coffee. Mathews unveils the hotel with rare pride. He flings open doors, even taking credit for the spectacular views as if he has just finished painting them. We find later that he extends the same enthusiasm to good housekeeping! And can be seen suspended Spiderman-like, on the hotel's exterior walls examining the dust-levels on the windowsills outside.