Upgrade Your Period Home Floors With Floor Sanding Services

If you live in an Irish period home, you already know the floor has a “feel” that newer houses just don’t copy. The boards tend to be a bit wider, the colour has that lived-in patina, and, every so often, you get a soft creak that makes the place feel real rather than showroom-perfect. At the same time, modern life puts your floor under very different pressure, because it’s dealing with kids racing through the hallway, pets skidding around corners, open-plan foot traffic, radiators drying the air, and Ireland’s regular humidity swings.

Let’s look at how you can sand and refinish in a way that keeps the character you love, avoids expensive heritage slip-ups, and makes the floor nicer to live with day to day, without turning your home into a full-blown building site.

What Makes These Period-home Floors Worth Saving

When people say “period home” in Ireland, they usually mean one of a few familiar types.

You’ve got Georgian homes (often city terraces with grander proportions), Victorian and Edwardian houses (lots of late-19th and early-20th century character), and then the early 20th-century townhouse that sits somewhere between “old world charm” and “more practical layout”. After that, there are traditional cottages (stone, lime, and plenty of quirks) and the classic “in-between” home that’s been extended, subdivided, or modernised in stages over decades.

Even if your place has had updates, your floor often still gives off some history. Period timber floors tend to show long runs of boards, board widths that feel more generous, and nail patterns that are visible if you know what you’re looking for. You might also notice slight undulation or a gentle “wave” in places. That isn’t automatically a problem. In many older homes, that kind of unevenness reads as authentic, as long as it’s safe and not caused by ongoing movement or damp.

So when we talk about “character,” it’s not exactly that “old = good.” It’s details like the way boards line up through doorways, the subtle variation in colour, and the fact that the floor looks like it belongs to the house, rather than something dropped in last week.

Why original boards carry architectural value

Your timber floor doesn’t sit in isolation. It’s connected to loads of other features you probably love, even if you don’t think about them every day.

For instance, the floor height affects your skirtings. If you remove boards and replace them with a different build-up, the skirting line can end up looking “wrong” because the proportions change. The same goes for architraves around doors: a new floor height can throw off the visual balance, and it can even create awkward gaps that need patching.

Then there are the practical knock-ons. Thresholds between rooms in older homes often have a specific profile and height, and they were built to meet the original floor levels. If you replace boards and the new floor sits higher or lower, you can end up with thresholds that feel like trip points. Hearth edges are another big one. A lot of period rooms have fireplaces where the timber meets stone or tile in a very specific way, and altering the floor level can make that junction look clumsy (or worse, create gaps that catch dirt and crumbs).

Even stair nosings can get caught up in it. If the landing level shifts, the first step can feel slightly “off,” and suddenly a job you thought was just about sanding turns into joinery fixes and door trimming.

This is why sanding and restoring is often the tidy option from a design point of view: it keeps the relationships between all those original elements intact.

And you’re far from the only person trying to balance old-house charm with modern comfort.

CSO’s Census 2022 data showed that there were 1,836,728 occupied dwellings in Ireland. Looking at the breakdown of permanent private households by year built, 154,290 households were living in homes built before 1919.

When you put that in proportion, pre-1919 homes come out at roughly 8.6% of the CSO year-built totals (about 1 in 12). That’s a small slice of the occupied housing stock, which means intact period features, including original floorboards, are limited by definition.

So if you’ve got a floor that can be repaired and refinished, it’s worth treating it like a repairable building element, not disposable décor. In other words, the goal is to restore what’s already there, keep what makes the house feel like itself, and only replace what truly can’t be saved.

“Character” You Can Actually See: What to Preserve Before You Sand

You don’t want to erase age. You want to remove the stuff that’s genuinely failing, while keeping the details that make the room feel like it belongs in a period home.

A simple way to think about it is patina vs dirt. Patina is the honest “lived-in” look: gentle colour variation from decades of light, a few shallow ripples where boards have moved naturally, and tiny tool marks that show the boards were worked by hand. Dirt is different.

Dirt is that grey traffic haze in doorways, sticky old polish build-up, and patchy, worn-through finish that looks dull even after you clean. Aggressive sanding can remove original surface, tool marks, and patina, which are part of the historic value of the floor.

So what does “keep the character” look like in practice?

Subtle colour variation stays. If one area is slightly deeper honey and another is paler, that’s often normal ageing and sunlight patterns. Chasing a perfectly uniform tone can leave the floor looking oddly new in an old room.
Gentle undulation is often part of the charm. A period floor frequently isn’t perfectly flat, and flattening it aggressively can strip away the “feel” that makes it special.
Board edges and profiles matter. Older boards can have softened edges from wear and cleaning over time. If everything ends up razor-sharp and machine-perfect, the room can start to feel like it’s wearing a modern replica.

If your floor ends up looking like it could be in a new-build show house, you’ve probably taken off more than you needed to. And that’s why its advisable to get professional floor sanding services to take care of the job.

Reading your floor’s wear patterns

Period floors nearly always have clues that something happened in the room long before you moved in, and those clues are worth spotting early, because they affect how you plan sanding and repairs.

Start with the obvious “story marks”:

Old repairs and patches: Look for boards that are slightly different width, grain, or tone. In many Irish homes, you’ll see swaps near fireplaces, old chimneys, or former stove positions.
Plugs and filled nail holes: Small round plugs or repeated filled points can show where boards were lifted and re-fixed, or where older fixings were replaced.
Shadow lines: If you lift a rug and find a “ghost” outline, that’s normal. It’s a record of sunlight and wear patterns over years. Sanding will reduce the contrast, but the fact it existed helps you understand the room’s history and how uneven the wear is.
Edge staining at thresholds: Dark bands at doorways often come from heavier footfall and old finish build-up, not “bad wood”.

Now, before anything changes, take a proper record. This is the boring bit you’ll be delighted you did later.

At minimum, photograph and measure these things:

Board widths (several samples per room). A quick tape-measure photo is fine. It helps if you ever need to source matching boards for a repair.
Thickness at vents or exposed edges. If you can see an edge at an air vent or threshold, take a close photo with something for scale.
Height from floor to skirting. Do one measurement per wall and photograph it. It’s your reference point if you end up needing any repairs around the perimeter.
All thresholds and stair nosings. Photograph from above and side-on so you capture levels and profiles.

Recording details and measurements before changes protects the building’s story and helps future repairs. So create a mini “before file” for your own home.

Decide your “character line” early

This is where you set your boundaries, so you don’t get talked into sanding decisions you’ll regret.

A handy mini-framework is to split everything into three buckets:

1) Must remain unchanged (non-negotiables)

These are the parts that, if altered, make the whole room feel off:

Skirtings (especially if original or carefully profiled)
Thresholds between rooms
Stair nosings and landing edges

If any of these get damaged or reshaped, you can lose that crisp period joinery detail that quietly holds the space together.

2) Can be improved (comfort and safety wins)

This is where modern living gets a vote:

Splinters and sharp lips between boards (trip and snag risk)
Localised rough patches in doorways
Raised old filler that catches socks

You’re not trying to make the floor perfect. You’re trying to make it pleasant to live with, especially in high-traffic zones.

3) You’ll tolerate (the “this is an old house” list)

These are the marks that read as authentic rather than messy:

Light undulation that’s stable and safe
A few historic dents or shallow marks
Faint shadowing where old rugs or furniture sat

This kind of “character line” thinking fits well with the wider conservation approach in Ireland: repair and maintenance are generally favoured, and changes should be considered carefully, especially where they could affect a building’s special interest.

Once you’ve decided where your line is, you’ll find the rest of the sanding plan gets much easier. You’ll be working towards a clear finish: clean, comfortable, and still genuinely period.

Pre-sanding Checks That Protect Your House (And Your Budget)

Confirm your status first: Protected Structure, ACA, or neither

Before you book anyone in, do a quick status check, because it changes what “straightforward floor sanding” looks like on paper.

A Protected Structure is listed on your local authority’s Record of Protected Structures (RPS). That protection can cover more than the façade. It can apply to parts of the building (including interior features) if those elements contribute to the structure’s special interest. Dublin City Council in particular spells out that the Council manages and controls external and internal works that materially affect character, and that planning permission is required for works (including some repairs) that materially affect the structure’s special interest:

An Architectural Conservation Area (ACA) is different. It’s an area designation used to protect the overall character and appearance of a street, townscape, or group of buildings.

Now, the step that saves you stress if you own (or occupy) a Protected Structure is a Section 57 Declaration. It’s a written statement from the planning authority clarifying what works would or wouldn’t materially affect the character of the structure. The legal basis is Planning and Development Act 2000, Section 57. It’s generally free and authorities are expected to issue it within 12 weeks (after inspection and any drawings/maps you may need to provide).

Also, if you’re thinking, “Surely floor sanding is minor,” keep this in mind: Ireland has almost fifty thousand protected structures, and the Council of Europe’s HEREIN profile puts it at roughly 44,000 protected structures and around 550 ACAs. So heritage controls are not rare edge cases. They’re part of normal homeownership for a lot of people.

Condition checks for Irish period homes

Once you know where you stand planning-wise, move to the building physics stuff, because older Irish houses often have suspended timber floors and they behave differently from modern slabs.

The big one is moisture and ventilation. If your floor is suspended, it relies on airflow in the void underneath. Blocking vents, sealing edges too tightly, or finishing a floor while there’s an active damp issue underneath can leave you with new problems that cost far more than sanding. SEAI’s retrofit standards and specifications dictate that ventilation requirements must be met, including sub-floor ventilation.

So, do a few simple checks before sanding:

Look for staining patterns with a story. Dark, repeated staining near external walls or chimney breasts can point to historic damp or leaks. If the stain looks “fresh” (still dark, still spreading, still damp to touch), pause and find the source before you sand.
Use your nose. Musty odours, especially after rain or when the heating goes on, can hint at damp air trapped under the floor.
Walk the room slowly. A bit of bounce in an old floor can be normal. However, a very springy strip, or movement that feels new and localised, can suggest a loose board end, a failed fixing, or a problem with the joist support beneath.
Watch for cupping or crowning. Boards that curl up at edges (cupping) or bulge in the centre (crowning) can be linked to moisture imbalance. Sanding first can lock in the distortion and make the surface thinner without solving the cause.

When a home can’t shift moisture out, you get condensation and mould risks.

Finally, gaps and draughts: some seasonal gapping is normal in timber. What you’re watching for is new gaps paired with new movement, or gaps that seem linked to damp, because that combination can point to subfloor issues rather than “normal winter shrinkage.”

Floor thickness, previous sanding, and “how much can safely come off

This is the check that protects your future options.

Every sanding removes timber. A small amount can be fine, but repeated sanding over decades chips away at how many times the floor can be refinished again. Solid wood floors are sandable several times over their life (six to eight times, depending on thickness and condition).

You can also get a rough sense of material removal per pass. A full sanding “pass” can remove about 1/32 inch (around 0.8 mm), depending on grit and equipment. That shows how quickly thickness can disappear if someone gets aggressive.

So what do you do without ripping boards up?

Check discreetly at edges, vents, and thresholds. Air vents and door thresholds often let you see the board edge or build-up without lifting the whole floor.
Look for evidence of past sanding. Rounded board edges, lowered thresholds, doors that already look trimmed tight, or skirtings with a slightly odd “float” above the floor can all hint the floor has been taken down before.
Be extra cautious if your floor sits over a ventilated void. Government building guidance describes a ventilated air space of at least 75 mm (to underside of wall plates) and 150 mm (to underside of the suspended timber floor or insulation, if present). That’s about new-build guidance, but it’s still a good reminder that the floor system is meant to breathe.

If you can’t confidently tell how much timber you have left, or if boards feel weak underfoot, treat that as your decision checkpoint. That’s when it’s worth bringing in a conservation-aware professional for an assessment, because a cautious plan now is usually cheaper than replacing a floor you accidentally sanded past the point of repair.

Conservation-friendly Sanding for Clean Results Without Scrubbing Away History

When you’re sanding a period floor, the win isn’t “perfectly flat and flawless.” Instead, it’s clean, comfortable, and still believable for the age of the house. So remove failed finish and damage, not the floor’s history. Take the “as little as possible” route.

A practical way to do that is to stop chasing every tiny ripple. For example, if you have gently undulating boards that feel stable underfoot, sanding them dead-flat usually means taking off far more timber than you need. On an old floor, that’s not a harmless choice because once timber is gone, it’s gone. And you’re not working with something that’s endlessly replaceable.

Take off only what you must to get a sound surface and a finish that lasts.

Start by writing down the job in steps, even if you’re hiring it out. When you have a written plan, it’s easier to spot when someone is rushing or being heavy-handed.

1) Do a test patch first (always).

Choose a patch about 1 m x 1 m in a typical traffic area (not the best corner, and not the worst disaster zone). Your test patch answers three big questions:

How deep the old finish and staining go
How quickly the floor cleans up with light sanding
What the timber looks like under the surface (tone, grain, repairs you didn’t notice)

If the patch cleans up fast, you’ve just avoided unnecessary extra passes across the whole room.

2) Use a sensible grit progression.

You’re aiming to remove the old finish efficiently, then refine the surface. Coarse grits remove, mid grits level and clean, finer grits smooth. A common progression is something like 36/40 → 60 → 80 → 100/120, but the right starting point depends on the floor. The key is this: don’t jump too dramatically, and don’t stay on coarse grits longer than needed, because that’s where you chew through timber.

3) Treat edges and details like a separate job.

Edges, corners, and tight areas around fireplaces and architraves are where period floors get ruined. Machines can bump skirtings and soften crisp lines. So, plan for controlled edge sanding and hand finishing where the details matter most. A steady approach is to machine-sand close, then hand-sand the final few centimetres so you keep the sharp definition around trims and hearths.

4) Plan transitions room by room.

Thresholds, landings, and rooms that have aged differently need special handling. For example, a hallway might be heavily worn while a bedroom is in better shape. If you sand everything as if it’s equally damaged, you’ll over-sand the better rooms. Instead, use the test patch logic in each zone and match your approach to the wear.

5) Dust control has to be part of the plan

Wood dust is not “just mess.” It can cause serious health problems, including asthma. Sanding machines can generate particularly high levels of dust. You need proper extraction at source, sealed doorways, and vacuuming with the right kit, not dry sweeping.

Repairs that should happen before final finishing

A finish only looks good if the floor is stable underneath it. That’s why the best time to repair boards is after the main sanding reveals what you’re dealing with, but before you do the final smoothing passes and apply the finish.

For example:

Broken ends and edges: Repair broken edges by splicing in timber of a similar type and grain. You can introduce battens beneath unsupported board ends.
Split boards: They may be glued and then reinforced with a timber block screwed below.

Here’s what that looks like in a hallway:

You sand and notice one board end near the doorway flexes when you step on it.
Instead of replacing the whole board, you add a small support batten underneath so the end is properly backed.
Then you address the surface so it sits neatly with its neighbours before your final passes.

Now, about squeaks. Some squeaks are simple: a board rubbing slightly on a fixing or a joist. Those can sometimes be tackled with careful re-fixing and support. However, if you’ve got widespread squeaking paired with noticeable movement across a whole area, that can point to deeper looseness in the floor structure. In that case, sanding won’t solve the problem, and it can make it worse by thinning boards that are already stressed. Your best move is to stabilise first, then finish.

Finally, be cautious with “quick damp fixes” under old floors. Interventions that stop old floors from breathing naturally and can push moisture into walls or create new damp patterns. So if you’re tempted to slap down a barrier layer because you’ve seen a damp patch once, pause. It’s usually smarter (and cheaper long-term) to find the moisture source and deal with that, rather than trapping it.

When you put all of this together, you get a floor that looks cleaner and feels better underfoot, while still reading as a proper period floor, not a brand-new imitation.

Solving Draughts, Cold Floors, and Unevenness

You’ve probably felt that cold ribbon of air along the skirting, the little gust near the sitting-room door, or had the “why is this corner always freezing?” problem. The gaps are not automatically a fault. Timber moves with seasons, and older boards can shrink slightly in drier winter air, then tighten again when humidity rises. So, if you fill every gap rigidly, you can end up with cracked filler lines, weird ridges, or a patchwork effect that shows “recent work”.

A better approach is targeted comfort, which means you focus on the places that leak the most air, not the entire floor.

Start with the perimeter. Air often slips in where boards meet skirting, especially if the boards have pulled back over time. Instead of smearing hard filler everywhere, look for solutions that cope with movement, such as flexible gap fillers in small, consistent joints, or discreet perimeter draught control details that sit under the skirting line. Then, move to thresholds. These are huge culprits because they’re a break in continuity between rooms. A small, tidy fix here can make the hallway feel noticeably warmer without changing the “period look”.

After that, check service penetrations. In older houses, pipes and cables often come up through slightly oversized holes. Those holes act like mini chimneys for cold air. When you seal them neatly (and safely), you stop a lot of draught without touching the rest of the boards.

This work matters because heat loss isn’t only “through walls”. In a typical home, around 20% of heat loss can be through ventilation and draughts. That doesn’t mean you should block fresh air. It means uncontrolled air leakage can be a big comfort and cost issue.

SEAI notes up to 10% of a home’s heat can be lost through floors. So, if your floor is leaky and uninsulated, sorting the worst draught routes can feel like you’ve turned the heating up, even when you haven’t.

Insulation and ventilation done properly

If you want warmer feet in a period home, floor insulation can help a lot. Still, it’s only a win if it’s done in a way that respects how the building manages moisture.

With suspended timber floors (very common in older Irish housing), outdoor air is meant to move through the underfloor void via vents or air bricks. That airflow helps timber stay in a healthier condition. Air from outside can and should flow under these floors, typically through air bricks or grilles, because it supports a healthy environment for the timber. At the same time, if there are gaps in the floor or no insulation, that air can leak into rooms and make them harder to keep warm.

So, the goal is not “seal everything and hope”. It’s control:

Keep subfloor ventilation working (don’t block air bricks), because trapped moisture is how you end up with musty smells, decay, and repair bills.
Reduce air leakage into the room by dealing with the biggest gaps at floor level (perimeter, thresholds, service holes), so the cold underfloor air stays where it belongs.
Add insulation in a breathable, moisture-aware way, especially if you’re working with traditional materials and older wall construction.

Draught-proofing reduces heat loss by reducing air leakage. The overall aim should be to gain control of the rate of ventilation rather than just stopping airflow entirely.

Underfloor heating in period homes: when it works, when it fights the building

Underfloor heating sounds like the dream upgrade for a period home: invisible warmth, no bulky radiators, and cosy floors after sanding. Sometimes it really does work well. Other times, it turns into a battle between heat cycling and timber movement.

A key reality is temperature limits. Underfloor systems heat the floor surface, and there are comfort and material boundaries. BS EN 1264-2 limits maximum floor surface temperature to 29°C in general occupied areas. For timber floors, they have a lower comfort-and-protection ceiling of around 27°C, because overheated timber can dry out, shrink, and show gaps or cracking.

So, when does underfloor heating tend to suit a period home?

When you can manage build-up height. UFH often adds layers (insulation, pipes or mats, boards, finishes). That can force door trimming, mess with thresholds, and make skirtings look “wrong” if you have to lift floor levels.
When the floor build-up supports steady heat. Big swings (on/off blasts) are harder on timber than gentle, steady operation.
When you choose a finish that can cope. The more stable the finish and the better you control moisture and temperature, the fewer movement surprises you’ll get.

If UFH feels like too much upheaval, you can still get a big comfort lift with less disruption. Start by reducing the worst draught routes (perimeter, thresholds, service holes), then improve heating control room-by-room, and finally use rugs strategically in the coldest zones.

The Finish is the Lifestyle Decision: Durability, Breathability, and the Look You’ll Live With

Once the floor sanding is done, the finish you pick decides how your floor behaves day to day. It’s not only about colour. It’s about what you’ll notice when you walk in the door with wet shoes, when the dog skids around the corner, or when a chair gets dragged back a bit too hard.

Start with sheen, because it changes the whole feel of a period room. Gloss and semi-gloss bounce light around and make a space feel “newer” quickly. Satin sits in the middle. Matte tends to feel calmer and more traditional, and it’s also forgiving. The lower the sheen, the less you tend to notice small scratches and everyday wear.

Now, about colour and “perfect uniformity”. In homes, especially older ones, light is uneven. Ireland generally gets between 1,100 and 1,600 hours of sunshine a year, and May and June average about 5 to 6.5 hours of sunshine per day across most of the country. The extreme southeast can see over 7 hours a day in early summer. So even if you feel like you live under cloud, a south-facing sitting room in June can still change a floor over time.

On top of that, sunlight through glass still carries UV. The Canadian Conservation Institute measured “regular glass” and found it reduced UV by about 26% ± 11%. That means your rug can leave a “shadow” outline, your sofa footprint can look different after a few years, and a bay window can create a gentle gradient across boards. That’s not automatically a failure. In period homes, a little variation often reads as character, especially with more natural-looking, lower-sheen finishes.

Choosing a finish by room

If you want fewer regrets, choose your finish based on how each room actually gets used, not what looks good on a tiny sample.

Hallways and entrances get the worst of Irish life: grit, small stones in trainers, winter damp, and the occasional stroller wheel. Grit is the real enemy here because it acts like sandpaper underfoot. For these areas, you generally want a finish that can cope with abrasion and is realistic to maintain, because the “runner rug” won’t catch everything.

Kitchens need a different kind of toughness. It’s not constant grit, it’s splashes, drips, and the odd spill you don’t spot until later. Here, moisture resistance and quick wipe-up tolerance matter more than hiding micro-scratches. It’s also a room where cleaning habits can accidentally do damage if too much water is used (more on that below).

Living rooms are usually about a mix of wear and light. If you’ve got a big window and the afternoon sun hits the same area daily, pick a look that won’t make you obsess over small colour shifts. A slightly more muted tone and a lower sheen can make natural change feel intentional.

Bedrooms are typically low drama. You can lean more towards “soft and warm” because the traffic is lighter. If you love a richer tone, this is the room where it often stays looking fresh for longer simply because shoes and grit don’t live here.

One more thing that’s especially relevant for older houses: be careful with finishes that create a heavy “sealed” effect in buildings that historically managed moisture by breathing.

Maintenance that preserves character long-term

Your floor lasts longer when you treat care as prevention, not a panic fix.

Here’s a simple care routine you can actually stick to:

Control grit at the door. A proper doormat outside and another inside catches most of the tiny stones that scratch finishes over time.
Use felt pads on chair and table legs, and replace them before they fall off and the metal foot starts scraping.
Dry-clean first, damp-clean second. For routine cleaning, vacuum and dry-dust more often than you mop. Vacuum and dry dust as your go-to, then spot-clean with a well-wrung cloth, wiping, and dry after.
Go easy on water. Water-based emulsions can introduce moisture into old floors with damaging results, including raising the grain and introducing dirt into timber. So if your mop is leaving a visible wet trail, it’s too wet.

And if there’s a leak or spill: wipe it up straight away, then dry the area properly (towel + airflow). If boards start to cup or edges lift, don’t keep washing and “hoping it settles”. Get it assessed early, because moisture issues are cheaper to sort when they’re small.

Old floors age best when maintenance is a habit. When you wait until the finish fails, you usually need bigger work than a simple top-up coat. The aim is to maintain appearance and prolong life, with surface soiling removed before it becomes impacted and moisture controlled.

Replacement vs restoration of period-home floors

When sanding and repair are the smarter heritage choice

If your floorboards are fundamentally sound, sanding and repair usually makes more sense than ripping everything out. The main reason is simple: original floors fit the house. Once you replace them, you often lose small-but-important details that your eye notices straight away, even if you can’t explain it.

For example, replacement can change board proportions (widths, lengths, grain patterns), which can make a Georgian or Victorian room feel slightly “off”. It can also alter floor levels, and that’s where costs creep in. A few millimetres up or down can trigger door trimming, awkward thresholds, or skirting lines that no longer sit neatly. Even if you keep the same species of timber, the new floor can clash with old trims because the junctions are never quite the same.

When replacement (or partial replacement) is genuinely justified

Sometimes, replacement is the right call. The key is to base the decision on structural reality, not cosmetic frustration.

Replacement (or major partial replacement) starts to make sense when you have issues like:

Structural rot that can’t be stabilised: boards that crumble, stay soft, or fail repeatedly after repairs, especially if the underlying cause can’t be resolved without major rebuild work.
Repeated flooding or ongoing moisture damage: if boards have swollen, warped, and deformed across a wide area more than once, sanding may leave you with thin timber and a floor that still won’t sit properly.
Pervasive failure: widespread splitting, large areas of loose or broken tongues/edges, or extensive repairs that have already turned the floor into a patchwork with poor stability.
Unsafe deflection: if walking across the room feels bouncy in a way that suggests structural movement, you’re into safety territory, not aesthetics.

Even then, you don’t have to jump straight to “replace everything”. A safer period-home approach is least-change first:

Patch boards where failure is localised (for example, one damp corner by an external wall, or damage around an old hearth).
Match board widths and thickness as closely as possible, so the new timber doesn’t shout at you from across the room.
Retain original thresholds, skirtings, and trims wherever you can, because they anchor the room visually.
Keep levels consistent across doorways and landings, so you don’t create new trip points.

A good rule of thumb: if the floor is safe and repairable, restore it. If it’s structurally failing, replace only what you must, and keep the original “bones” of the room intact.