House of Gods Hotel Review

It was the Rolling Stones’ Keith Richards who first threw a TV out of the window. Didn’t one rock band ask for something weird like all the brown M&Ms removed? Yes, Google confirmed, Van Halen. What does Bruce Springsteen ask for, I wondered? Chicken soup, heavy on the broth, good beer (no Budweiser). That’s more my kind of rock’n’roll.

The Rockstar Request is the latest wonderfully bonkers initiative from this playful mini chain which claims ‘ordinary is the enemy’. The idea was inspired by a guest who had asked for a pineapple named Norman to greet them on arrival. Why? Who knows. The hotel, of course, obliged and the idea grew shoots. The new campaign ‘Rockstars Request’ invites people to send in their wildest, weirdest, most wonderful room requests, the most imaginative going to a public vote on House of Gods’ social channels, the winner receiving a ‘Treat Me’ stay, ‘a night of pure, unapologetic excess.’

Just off the Royal Mile on Cowgate in Edinburgh’s Old Town, the House of Gods is less a hotel, more a lavish cocktail bar with rooms. You check in at the bar with a glass of Prosecco, before being shown to your room – or cabin. It feels like you’re wheeling your suitcase down a train corridor between carriages and that’s the idea. The décor is inspired by the opulence of the Orient Express. The cabin bedrooms are compact – go with the train compartment theme. The beds are built in, the marble wet rooms on the snug side, but they are decked out in sumptuous fabrics. Upgrade to the classic rooms and suites and you’ll be bedding down in a decadent four-poster.

My suite was fabulous. With a dark polished parquet floor, walls clad in burgundy velvet and wood panelling, vintage tasselled lamps and brass monkeys, a freestanding copper tub and four-poster bed decked out in rich brocades and sprinkled with golden petals and balloons, it felt more boudoir than bedroom. Press this button, my butler explained, for Prosecco – or milk and cookies after 9pm. If you need anything, WhatsApp us.

But where was the TV? Hidden in a full-length mirror and safely secured to the wall. So much for rock’n’roll behaviour. Then again, there was no window, just a full-length panel of frosted glass. What time would I like my in-room cocktails?

The ‘Treat Me Like I’m Famous’ package is pure indulgence. There was a bottle of Prosecco in an ice bucket, a box of artisan chocolates – and for breakfast a hamper with Mimosas is delivered to your room. There was just time for a quick soak in the tub before a knock at the door announced the arrival of Adam and his cocktail kit. The Millionaires’ cocktail is not on the regular bar menu but reserved exclusively for ‘the famous’.

Adam set up his table and began to mix butterfly pea-infused Lind & Lime gin, white port, champagne syrup, fresh lemon and a dash of foamer; the result a vibrant purple and utterly delicious concoction, the perfect aperitif.

I might have failed in the rockstar stakes, but I was enjoying the celebrity treatment. Just as I was getting ready to go out for dinner, I spotted a small hamper. More treats? Two cans of chicken soup, a bottle of Super Dry Asahi beer and a Bavarian style unfiltered Hefeweizen – and a bowl of M&Ms, brown ones taken out. Not many hotels make you laugh out loud.

Rooms start at £99 and Treat Me Like I'm Famous is an additional £119

Lucy Gillmore is a freelance journalist who left a newspaper travel desk for the Highlands’ hills. Dipping into Scotland’s ever-evolving food, drink and accommodation scene she will be bringing us the latest news stories, dates for the diary and shining a light on local food heroes in a regular column. You can follow her on @lucygillmore