It’s become the preserve of sugar-charged children, getting over-excited and given an excuse to behave abominably; now a holiday in its own right, that once one-off, understated, occasional evening of liberation has, now the marketeers have latched onto it, become the stuff of, you might say appropriately, nightmares.
No, not Christmas, I’m talking about Halloween.
But, dear reader, fear not. For in the spirit of cocktail-fuelled dinner parties, the adults, too, can take over the asylum – and do it in some style.
In an effort to flee my little nest of vipers’ increasing enthusiasm, where the practical jokes were starting to wear a bit thin, eschewing my inner Scrooge (or should that be Gomez Adams), I elected to whisk myself away to an altogether more grown-up, nuanced appropriation of this macabre celebration. I ventured to the UK’s gothic mecca, Auld Reekie herself, preserved in stone spires and pointed arches, inspiring witches and wizards alike. It is, of course, Edinburgh, and I was destined for the city’s finest.
Prestonfield is, as my taxi driver told me en route from Waverley, a country house in the middle of the city. And as if his comments needed any clarification, we turn from an avenue of 20th century bungalows into the 20-acre estate, approaching this anachronistic curiosity of a 17th century white-rendered double-fronted Dutch-style house set at the foot of Arthur’s Seat.
In an age where inoffensive vanilla and minimalism still persists as a theme across hotel rooms, Prestonfield is a paragon of maximalism, and testament to the enduring vision and life’s work of its owner, James Thomson. Like its sister property, The Witchery, it is a tribute to the personal, and to personality.
Having had only two previous owners in its 400-year history, since acquiring it in 2003 Thomson has continued to keep Prestonfield as close to a private house as is possible. It’s a step back in time, indeed much of the property’s fabric remains unchanged from its 17th century origins; the ‘leather’ room features embossed leather wall coverings, the dining room’s murals on the wood panelling are original, and walls are inch-to-inch with salon-hung prints and original oils – all artworks having been acquired with the original sale.
Amid this setting are sumptuous soft furnishings and mod-cons, never more evident than in my suite, Benjamin Franklin. And, yes, so named for its illustrious guest (who even composed a poem following his stay – Thomson has the original hand-written piece in his collection). “Guests don’t realise they are staying among the original artworks,” Thomson tells me over a cocktail in the Whisky Lounge, a suitably themed ‘Trick or Treat’, a nod to the occasion conjured up by the hotel’s mixologist. “Your wallpaper is designed by Napoleon,” he adds, almost dismissively, “printed in Paris from the original blocks.” I pay it due heed when I return from dinner.
Many touches at both Prestonfield – and more so at The Witchery – seem naturally inclined to Halloween. The gothic tea rooms provide a fitting setting for their autumnal afternoon tea, and as we make our way to dinner I’m met by another resident, Raven, the hotel’s black cat, crossing my path from one wing of the restaurant to the other. I take it as a sign of good luck.
That makes more sense when you consider that Rhubarb, the main restaurant, so named because Prestonfield was first estate that propagated rhubarb in Scotland, is split in two across the hall; the breakfast room (as sun rises) and dining (as sun sets), though both are available for either. We dine in the east wing, under the judicious eye of an imposing portrait of Charles II, painted by his portraitist. “He owns the room,” James tells me as we enter, “that’s why he’s the only painting in here”. I give him a courtierly nod as we sit down.
To the melodic tones of the Ink Spots and Django Reinhardt, James furnishes me with further details of his entrepreneurial and charitable endeavours, over an exquisite menu featuring local trout and roasted quail, and I’m beginning to feel like a guest of a latter-day Gatsby. If this were Halloween, it’s exactly as I’d wish to spend it, concluding over a fine scotch in the tapestry room, amid candlelight and a log fire. It seems apposite to ask if there are any ghost stories to be told among the house’s walls.
“Not here,” James says, with what I detect is a hint of disappointment, “just a lot of history.”
Room rates for Prestonfield House start from £375 per room, per night and includes breakfast. Afternoon tea to be enjoyed 12 pm to 6.45pm Sunday to Thursday and 12 pm to 4pm Friday & Saturday. Prices start from £50 pp, or upgrade to champagne afternoon tea at £65 pp. For more information, including sneak peaks of the rooms and details of the Rhubarb restaurant, please visit www.prestonfield.com.
Larry jetted off to Edinburgh with Lumo. Launched in 2021 and has since carried 2m passengers between London and Edinburgh. Ticket prices start from £40 per person, for routes from London Kings Cross to Edinburgh. Please find further information at www.lumo.co.uk.
Larry’s gothic weekend continues tomorrow, when he heads into the city centre, and the heart of Scotland’s historic witch hunt…
Photos by David Cheskin
