Inside the multimillion-dollar transformation of the Blue Mountains' iconic Lilianfels

Standing at Echo Point, looking out into the Jamison Valley, things feel upside down. I am on the edge of something - the Prince Henry Cliff Walk, yes, but also something else - and as I gaze down, I feel untethered.

A trip to Katoomba to stay at the newly-renovated Ardour Lilianfels Blue Mountains resort has stirred-up memories of a childhood awestruck by the bush. I remember being here as a youngster, feeling as though the slightest gust of wind might propel me into the neverending gorge.

In his 1981 verse about this very view, Blue Mountains poet Hugh Speers wrote: "Sometimes I have glimpsed this world lit by a dew drop, hanging like some beautiful crystal ball from a minute fern frond."

Yes. That's it.

Katoomba is a sacred place, known as the valley of falling waters to its original owners, the Dharug and Gundungurra Aboriginal peoples. And while busloads of tourists discover this place fresh every day, the micro-scale beauty of the leaves and trees clinging to the cliff-face on the edge of this massive panorama, it is a full circle moment for me.

Families used to flock to the Blue Mountains to be reinvigorated by the mountain air. My family went to the mountains to shop. In Leura mainly, but also in Katoomba.

"What should I do with my morning?" I ask Bryant at the front desk at Lilianfels.

"Leura is great for shopping," he replies. Yes, I know.

Arriving at the resort that morning, I was filled with all kinds of nostalgia. And it's not only my own - there is a vast history to consume here.

Lilianfels has undergone a multimillion-dollar transformation and been brought under Salter Brothers Hospitality's luxurious Ardour Hotels and Estates collection, an overhaul befitting the property's role over the years as a getaway for socialites, dignitaries and even celebrities.

The grand hotel is a Blue Mountains landmark and throughout its 89 redesigned rooms, a new central bar known as The Lounge and a brand new wellness centre called Eliva Blue Mountains Spa, the property's past and whimsy personality have been preserved while also being vibrant and fresh.

Lilianfels, set among lush manicured gardens, originally consisted of a vintage summerhouse built in 1889 by Sir Frederick Darley - the Chief Justice and Lieutenant-Governor of NSW at the time. Darley's daughter, Lilian, was suffering tuberculosis, and it was thought the fresh mountain air would do her good. But Lilian died the same year the house was completed, aged only 22, and the property was named in her honour: Lilianfels, "fels" being German for "cliff".

And Lilianfels is perched almost on the edge of all: just metres from lookouts to the famous Three Sisters rock formations.

A sensory memory hit me as I stepped out of my warm car: running around in Echo Point Park as a child, ruddy faced during Easter picnics, slices of my mum's orange cake proffered in a tupperware container.

The refreshed Lilianfels is a love-letter to Victoria and early Federation architecture, with original artworks, plush furniture and refurbished light fixtures throughout. In my room, a forest green and cream colour palette exudes old-world luxury charm.

Fireplaces roar 10 months of the year in the common areas, but I choose an elegant window seat near a group of women - three generations out to lunch - to enjoy a tiered high tea offering.

"We're bringing the bush into the dining room, but still keeping it refined, with some of those French techniques," says executive chef, Kam.

As I bite into a crunchy brioche bun with wagyu and horseradish, I think about all those coffee and cake stops I made with my mum once I hit teenage years.

After tea, I am entranced by a corridor of memorabilia, tracing the history of Lilianfels through local paper clippings and sepia photographs. While no known photo of namesake Lilian exists, there are plenty of the Darley family, dressed in long frocks and waistcoats and lounging on the verandah.

Original 1949 menus promising the likes of creme of tomato soup, roast pork, cheese salad, and peach pie with jelly and custard, have been lovingly framed. The kitchen team has plans to recreate these meals for modern diners.

After the sun has warmed my bones on my private balcony, I pop into Katoomba's town centre where I've heard the loaves at Black Cockatoo Bakery won't stick around long. Khorasan and linseed tin bread is a standout and I would drive back just for their almond croissant.

Afterwards, in Leura, I relive my mum-and-daughter shopping trips, spending an hour in the beautifully-stocked Leura Books and buying more fudge than I should at The Candy Store.

Driving back down the mountain towards Sydney, I'm struck by how satisfied I feel. I have eaten like a king, bathed in bath salts and indulged in more sweets and coffee than I care to admit.

My mind goes back to Echo Point, the vast wilderness below, Mount Solitary jutting up from the middle of it. The sense that this bush remembers me like I remember it, and has welcomed me back. I don't feel upside down anymore: I feel balanced, anchored in a way I haven't felt in months.