THEY call Edinburgh the Athens of the North, but that’s ridiculous; it’s far more beautiful than that.
The perfect symphony of geology, architecture and humanity, the Scottish capital is both elemental and elegant, severe and sublime, serious and... absolutely hilarious.
Draped around the foot of an extinct volcano, between the beaches of the slate grey North Sea and the cartoon-like rolling Pentland Hills, it is a living geography textbook. The warm stone streets of the Old Town, a chaotic riot of cobbles, towering gables, spires and chimney pots, faces off against the New Town – with its orderly grid of Georgian terraces and squares so refined they’d make Bath or Cheltenham look scruffy.
In the middle is a ravine – once a loch and now a formal garden – and the towering glory of Castle Rock, crowned by a fortress which dates back, in parts to the 12th century. It’s a constant companion, the castle. Its unadorned glowering form greeting you at every turn.
It’s a heady exotic cocktail – one which would be worth travelling across the globe to see, but which can be yours in about seven hours – by relaxing on a train or jumping in the car.
I took the latter, the lad and I breaking the admittedly gruelling drive north for a night in the 'big country' of the Durham Dales and a day tramping along glorious Upper Teesdale to High Force waterfall.
We arrived in Edinburgh in the early evening as the low sun turned the warm creamy stone of New Town’s West End a golden amber.
Home for the next three nights was to be a palatial chunk of one of those sweeping West End neoclassical terraces. The five-star Bonham is a time warp of Georgian sophistication fashioned from three 19th century townhouses. A deceptively narrow entrance opens up into a series of drawing rooms, crystal chandeliers hanging from high ceilings, oil paintings gazing out on tastefully uncluttered rooms. The rich wood panelling, low lighting and comfy armchairs give it the feel of a smart private members club – but with more cheer.
The Bonham Hotel
The antithesis of the standard bland corporate hotel, The Bonham has the chic style of a well designed boutique hotel, but with the homely scale of a large home and the disarmingly cheerful welcome that only the Scots can muster.
Our twin room was lovely; full of classical character but devoid of chintz and frills. The whole place was given a loving refurb three years ago.
There was loads of space, with room for the lad to build Lego and, less enthusiastically, catch up on homework, while I could guzzle coffee while wrestling with maps and attempting to work out how to take in everything we wanted to see with Covid restrictions. The need for early booking requires military planning.
The Bonham Hotel
We didn’t do everything. The castle was booked-up for days and there was no chance of getting in (book before you leave!), though we had fun wandering up the Royal Mile to the gate, where we gazed out to the Firth of Forth to the melancholic sound of a lone piper.
Everything else was easy, though, including the fabulous Museum of Scotland. This huge 3D puzzle of rooms was disorientating, fascinating and fun, sweeping us from supersized fossils to space rockets, clansmen’s ‘claymore’ swords, and on to a taxidermy zoological trip around the world.
Most fun was had in a gallery of historic computers – which disconcertingly featured many of the familiar chunky little things I wasted my own teenage years playing on – much to the kid’s amusement.
We had enormous fun on a dusk ghost tour aboard a double decker bus, its ghoulish conductor chilling us with tales of the darker side of the city’s history and exploring one of its moody graveyards. His performance was worthy of an Oscar – stories of ‘ghosties’ and ‘Murrrder’ delivered in an accent that would have put Dad’s Army’s lugubrious Private Frazer to shame.
Best of all, though were the little surprises that came from just wandering the worn-stone streets. We bought cheap second hand leather and Harris Tweed jackets (no prizes for guessing which was for who) at bargain-stuffed vintage clothes shops, paints and brushes at an art shop straight out of a Charles Dickens novel; gawped at magic wands on dramatically curving Victoria Street – said to be the model for mystical Diagon Alley in the Harry Potter tales; and feasted on some of the best fish and chips we’d ever tasted.
When not munching battered cod and exploring, we wandered the short distance back to The Bonham and lounged or treated ourselves to dignified afternoon tea – posh sandwiches, elaborate cakes, macarons and jam and cream laden freshly-baked scones washed down with fizz (me), orange juice (him) and pots of Scottish breakfast tea.
Equally impressive is breakfast. There’s nothing like waking up to a bowl of proper porridge followed by succulent Loch Fyne smoked salmon with scrambled egg, a smoky Orkney kipper topped with poached egg, or full Scottish breakfast boasting not only the usual suspects but also rich peppery haggis and a firm tattie scone, while basking in the refined splendour of a Georgian dining room, huge windows looking out over the prim Drumsheugh Gardens outside.
It was hard to leave – but as we turned to see the castle for one last time, we knew we’d be back. Maybe next time we’ll even get in.
STAY: On a quiet, leafy crescent a stone’s throw away from Edinburgh’s iconic attractions and shopping areas. The Bonham Hotel is one of the city’s most stylish hotels, with 49 stylish bedrooms and a modern European restaurant. From £149 BB for a double room.
Book at thebonham.com
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