So named for its proximity to the castle, where witches were burned at the stake in their hundreds during Edinburgh’s witch-hunting period in the 16th and 17th centuries, The Witchery needs little in the way of Halloween decor. It is Halloween. Devilish busts and carved gargoyles, candle-lit tables and Tarot-painted ceiling panels, it doesn’t need to indulge in frivolities. An assortment of pumpkins lining the Ivy-covered close to its entrance is simple embellishment.
A restaurant ‘with rooms’, equally, The Witchery is unlike anything you might call a hotel. Rooms are all suites, converted from apartments purchased over owner James Thomson’s 50-year gradual acquisition of the building, and that opposite in Jollie’s Close.
A mere nine in total, each are named and presented thematically, and all furnished under Thomson’s discerning eye, dressed with a passion for antiques and objets d’art acquired over the years. I’m in The Guardroom, across the street, and I pass inquisitive and envious eyes as I use my own key through the outer gate and up the stone spiral staircase to my room.
I don’t wish to ruin the surprise with plot spoilers for future guests – suffice to say the website provides tantalising images to whet the appetite – but this is unlike anywhere I’ve ever stayed. For one, it is, quite literally, an apartment. An entrance hall, lounge, wood-panelled bathroom, all off a long hallway towards the bedroom, give it its sense of place, but it’s the décor and finishing touches that give this its unique character, as with the other suites on offer.
Like its sister property, Prestonfield House, amid the history are the mod-cons, making this as desirable a destination as any contemporary new opening. I stepped into the bathroom, barefoot, expecting cold tiles underfoot, but was met with a heated floor; at first, I thought a lack of a TV was a nice touch, but then was directed to a small remote that, when operated, opened up a settle at the end of the bed and a screen emerged. After all, who really likes a TV on show?
I’ve an hour to kill before a ghoulish tour of the city, so the kettle goes on, I take a seat in a leather Queen Anne, under the watchful eye of Walter Scott above my head, and ask Alexa for some suitably Halloween-themed music. She must know what I’m thinking because Danse Macabre comes on, and I jump a hundred years in the setting, imagining the room as if like a regimental major in the 18th century, admiring the mighty four poster, and all the details that set this apart.
Before dinner, I join other guests on a walking tour – plentiful in the city – but this, created in conjunction with The Witchery and offered to guests, is quite unlike any other. It has, fittingly, a macabre theme, with tales of witch-hunting, plague and public hangings, but it’s delivered more like mobile theatre; our Victorian-suited host and his foil play a series of characters through the city’s history, with a costume change between locations, and make for a thoroughly engaging – and entertaining – double act.
Each location, too, feels like a discovery in itself, as we seem to duck between the crowds on the Royal Mile into the side alleys and courtyards behind, giving us an insider’s view of the city, and we’re back into our own enclave of The Witchery’s secret garden, for dinner.
Secret only to those who’ve dined in it, the Witchery’s second dining room is, in fact, a former school yard. A flagstone floor and other original architectural details remain, including an open topiary-dressed terrace, with views to the Heriot school, the inspiration for Hogwart’s. Of all the restaurants in the city, The Witchery’s reputation precedes itself, and not just for its setting (or its prestigious guest list); an exquisite menu, exuding the provenance of its ingredients, is as inventive as its execution, and alongside a cured duck and watermelon salad, and a pumpkin and blue cheese risotto, the stand-out has to be the personal touch from the sommelier, adding a real sense of context to its countless awards for wine.
Breakfast in the original dining room is another surprise. Little changed since it opened on Halloween in 1978, it’s a suitably spooky, dark and dimly-lit enclave, encased in ornate wood panelling and cracking leather wall coverings. Save a few shafts of light from the pavement-level windows, I’m eating by candlelight in a small booth, and it’s unlike anywhere else you might crack open a croissant.
Padding the city’s cobbled streets, past gift shops and themed promotions, you’d be forgiven that this is all a bit Harry Potter, but The Witchery was opened 20 years before the first book was published, so, amid those crowds of Potter pilgrims, you might argue that Harry Potter is all a bit Witchery. One thing’s for certain, it’s a Halloween to reclaim, for grown-ups. A classy, tasteful Halloween. Most distinctly a treat, and with a few special tricks besides.
Room rates at The Witchery start from £475 per room, per night and includes breakfast. For more information, please visit www.thewitchery.com.
Photos by David Cheskin
