The Westbury Dubbo

Guests who stayed here loved

“I ended up at The Westbury Dubbo at very short notice after an Avis rental car debacle at the airport meant I unexpectedly needed to stay the night in Dubbo. In the circumstances, it felt less like making a normal hotel booking and more like being rescued by a charming elderly house with good manners. The building itself is lovely: an old, restored Dubbo residence with a sense of history, proportion and quiet eccentricity that modern hotels rarely manage. It feels like a heritage building in spirit, with the air of a grand old country house that has seen plenty of arrivals, departures and minor travel disasters before mine. I stayed on the ground floor in a comfortable room where the large bed very much dominated the space. The room was mostly clean, warm and pleasant, with decoration that seemed to fit the era of the building rather than fight against it. It was not slick or corporate, which was very much the point. It felt personal, whimsical and very much of its place. The room had what I needed after a long and ridiculous travel day: mini fridge, coffee, reverse-cycle air conditioning and enough comfort to decompress. The hallway and common areas had a beautiful scent, and there were enough small decorative touches to make the stay feel cared for without becoming fussy. There was one less charming old-building moment: while my laptop was plugged in, there was a crackly electrical event, after which the laptop shut off and has not behaved quite the same since. I cannot say with certainty what caused it, but it was unsettling and made me wonder whether some of the older electrical fittings might deserve a check. The first little story of the stay was the mysterious carafe in the main foyer. With glasses nearby, it contained something dark and inviting that looked very much like port or tawny. It had the air of an old-house ritual, the sort of thing that brought to mind Penfolds Grandfather Tawny and a slower, more civilised era of travel. As I never saw another soul and was not explicitly invited to partake, I left the port, or possible port, to its secrets. Instead, following a local recommendation, I walked out for a local gin martini and a pub-style surf and turf at the Pastoral Hotel. The sirloin was genuinely surprising: a generous cut with an enormous fat cap and what looked suspiciously like an expert reverse sear - edge-to-edge medium rare, with a proper crust. The crisp salad did its job; the mashed potato was sadly lumpy and defeated. Still, after a 45-minute wait on a very busy Saturday night, it was a far better pub dinner than the circumstances had any right to deliver. Breakfast the next morning was self-serve in the sunroom, which was still comfortable in winter, though I imagine it would be especially lovely in better weather. I had banana on toast, coffee, yoghurt and a very tasty local granola. The coffee was average rather than memorable, but in context - quiet sunroom, old house, emergency accommodation turning into a gentle morning - it was perfectly adequate. They were also able to accommodate a late check-out while I resolved what I thought was the last of the Avis issue, though with comic timing this would prove not to be the last of the Avis car issues. That flexibility was genuinely appreciated. Overall, The Westbury turned an annoying travel disruption into a memorable and unexpectedly charming overnight stay. Comfortable, characterful, generous when it mattered, and full of old-house atmosphere. There was an unsettling electrical incident that would make me cautious about using the power points without a surge protector, but otherwise it was a warm, whimsical and quietly lovely place to land after the airport chaos.”

Greg Tarr · Jun 27, 2026