Between a confirmed reservation and her knock lie forty to sixty minutes; that span, the arrival window, is identical for every central Amsterdam hotel of any kind.
A good concierge never promises a car in five minutes when it will take fifteen. The house quotes its timing in that spirit: once a reservation for today is confirmed, she is at any central door in forty to sixty minutes. The span is deliberately honest, and it is deliberately uniform.
A grand hotel on the Amstel, a design property in a converted warehouse by the IJ, a business tower on the Zuidas and a small house in the Jordaan all receive the same forty to sixty minutes. No district is quoted faster or slower than another. Traffic, bridges and the distance from wherever she happens to be even out across the city, and one figure serves a guest better than a table of them.
The window opens at confirmation, not at the guest's first message. The office usually replies within about ten minutes; where a deposit applies, she leaves once it has cleared. A guest whose reservation is confirmed at twenty to ten should therefore expect her between twenty past ten and twenty to eleven.
A reservation made in advance for a stated hour is timed to that hour instead, and the confirmation says so.
Schiphol and the hotels of the airport area are handled by arrangement, outside this window and always with a deposit. No town beyond Amsterdam is served.
Most of the wait asks nothing of the guest. Two things are worth doing: checking that the room number in the thread is correct, and noticing whether the lift answers only to a room card, in which case the keycard lift entry applies. Keep the phone used to book within reach. The hotel zones entry and the journal note on the four quarters at two describe the city after dark.