The rain began to hammer down when we arrived - low cloud, absolutely no view of lofty peaks or the coloured rooves of the town.
The hotel is a former colonial building - high ceilings, Edwardian fireplaces, a lot of dark wood panelling and floor. And I think there are some gardens but it was too wet to explore.
Our room is pretty but Ooty is quite cold and as it is the wet season everything is overlaid with a damp and musty air, including the bed covers. It's like Yorkshire in the 1970s.
The rain eased off a little and we went for a walk to the town. This took us A LONG TIME. The hotel is tranquil. And miles out of Ooty proper.
We walked along the road, being hooted at and jumping out of the way. I had decided on sandals rather than get wet shoes and socks. My feet got quite muddy.
Eventually we found the main part of town and the station. Still underwhelmed we headed off to a guide book recommended place for some food. It was good, but as so often the hyperbole was overdone. Nice, not life changing.
We wandered back to the station and caught a tuk tuk back to the hotel, had some tea, sat in the drawing room, had a fire lit, planned our next stage.
The sofas were comfy, and the fire was cheering, but it's not redeemed itself completely.
It's like a disappointing blind date - you got on really well by email but in person there's no spark.
This is a downbeat post, I am finding it hard to get past the sheer disappointment. I think Ooty and I have reached an agreement of sorts and even though today she is showing us her sunny side, I know our virtual love affair is over before it ever really began.
Enjoying a thali