As the mini-bus pulled up at our accommodation in Japan’s Iya Valley, two suited employees offered the gaudily coloured vehicle deep bows. It was a nice touch, I thought, for what looked, at first glance, like your average traditional Japanese hotel.

My perception began to shift when the elegant manageress, in a kimono and slippers, joined the welcoming party. Over the following 16 hours, our gang of six weary walkers would be treated to hospitality at the Hotel Kazurabashi of a quality that I can’t imagine I will enjoy again.