Traveling isn’t easy right now. Airports are a mess, Uber is unreliable at best, and train (and subway) drivers are moody. I altered my Edinburgh trip to the new Gleneagles townhouse to avoid a strike, only to wake up to find a lorry had crashed on the tracks north of Newcastle. Sure.
Surprisingly the train company had organized taxis for everyone on their journey to the Scottish capital, over 100 miles away, but by the time I arrived in Newcastle the tracks had been repaired. I breathed a sigh of relief, grabbed a glass of red from the cart, and turned on my laptop. I would have him dine after all at the new Gleneagles Townhouse in Edinburgh, the long-awaited sibling to the most beloved grande dame of Scottish luxury golf retreats.
It’s a small luxury brand, but its reputation is on a par with Aman and Cheval Blanc. Gleneagles is a completely rural luxury experience, so taking it to the city is an intriguing decision. Many Edinburgh locals and Texas fans in Tokyo can’t wait to see the result.
Dinner did not disappoint, largely because the room it is served in is stunning. In the mid-19th century, when our currency was worth something, it was the telltale room of the British Linen Bank, adorned with Xanadu granite pillars, glass-domed roofs, gilt flourishes and figural cornices that could inspire the papal envy.