Bursting with potential, it's the little stuff that lets Wokefield Park down

If clothes make the man, then it's interior decoration that makes the hotel and restaurant. Or, at least, sets your expectations for the place.

Homey and half timbered with a teenager behind the bar sends one message. An abundance of French rococo another. These days, there's a standard five star look. A combination of historic architecture with modern interior design. Neutral tones (often "mushroom" or the palest of mauves) accented with one deep shade ("aubergine" shows up a lot), furniture with clean lines, ornate light fixtures, black and white photography or a bit of modern art and huge, structural flower arrangements. It was just this look that framed our anticipation as we arrived at Wokefield Park for a weekend of fine dining and spa indulgence.

A tree-lined avenue runs straight for about a mile to an austerely beautiful Georgian pile sitting on a slight rise. Someone with a sensitive touch designed the modern hotel extensions, which blend into the main block smoothly. The main entrance, through the new addition, is an architecturally striking atrium soaring two generous stories with a sloping glass roof and a dominant central stair. Our room was one of the most beautiful, and biggest, I've ever occupied, with couches, a table for four, flat screen TV, a hallway of fitted wardrobes, loads of gorgeous design touches and a massive bathroom complete with oval tub set into recessed alcove and shower room with double sets of jets from both the ceiling and the wall. Impressive, in anyone's estimation.

Then you start to notice the little things. Despite the expansive space, the room has only a queen-sized bed, looking strangely adrift between its wide borders of emptiness. The duvet and pillows are fibre-filled rather than down and the linens have the feel of polyester blend. No dressing gowns (despite this being billed as a spa hotel) and nothing but the most basic soap and shampoo in the bathroom. Nothing criminal, but odd little lapses from what normally goes with this environment.

And that was, in a nutshell, our experience all weekend. A look that promised 5-star, with service, quality and design that fell just short and left you puzzled. Maid service skipped us on Saturday and we had to chase someone down. A fuse blew and left us without room lights for a while. No ice due to a broken machine. Overall, a genial but rather slow (both in speed and mental acuity) staff of youngsters who seemed to be in their first tentative year of catering college. The spa and pool were in completely different buildings with a long, cold walk in between. No relaxation room in the spa, no cubicles to store your clothes and ... for the first time in my experience ... no dressing gowns. The quality was variable, with me getting a great massage but my partner being deeply disappointed.

The chef presented food with a top restaurant, gourmet look, but with a steak overcooked here, a chip in the china there, a tacky plastic table number on a tall metal spike in our otherwise elegantly-laid table. A lovely rose crafted of smoked salmon had slightly crusty edges that betrayed preparation too long before the meal. Service gaps between courses were almost painfully long. Slightly confused teenagers plopped wine from the competent and reasonably priced list unceremoniously on your table, unopened, rather than the usual presentation, opening and sampling; rather a problem when you get a bottle with a cork rather than a screw top. The dining room made a fine effort all around, and had we been eating in a gastropub I would have been impressed. But the elegant early impressions had hinted at so much more.

As we wandered around the wider resort we began to sense the reason for all these little misfires. Wokefield Park is clearly a corporate conference centre rather than a hotel pitching to individual consumers. A modern complex nearby has an obviously corporate atrium lined with conference rooms and break-out areas. Everything (including, I expect, the staff) is geared for big business events and banquets. Would I have been as sensitive to the lack of all those little touches had I been here for a three-day training break with 100 colleagues. Probably not.

Fact is, we had a nice break, and we got a great deal. Two nights, dinner on the Saturday and an hour-long spa treatment for each of us cost what the massage and food would have toted up to alone in most other places. And we are admittedly picky: with the man having started out in hotel and restaurant management and me being an avid consumer of, and blogger about, them, we're both mildly obsessed by the little things. We couldn't help noticing that some simple management changes could make this place really great. But then, perhaps, it wouldn't have been such a bargain. With the same deal, I'd be happy to go back. I'd just know to bring my own dressing gown, corkscrew, bath salts, moisturiser ... and patience.