Glenmorangie House What a dram fine idea
For lovers of Scotch, a hotel run by the makers of Glenmorangie sounds like heaven. Fiona Duncan agrees
It’s not every day that I wake in the far north east of Scotland, right on the coast. And it’s not every day that I wake in a sweet-toothed, densely patterned fantasy of a bedroom designed to recall an old-fashioned French patisserie, and certainly not in these parts. The papered ceiling is pink, the walls yellow, both strewn with birds and branches of magnolia, while there are blowsy roses on a dark background for the curtains and yet another busy floral fabric of cerise, purple and green for the armchairs. There’s a huge sunburst mirror, a comical hand-painted wardrobe and a cake stand temptingly piled with croissants and fondant fancies that – disappointingly – turn out to be knitted.
My intensely sensory patisserie boudoir is the creation of interior designer Russell Sage, he of the Fife Arms, the Goring and many other notable hotels and restaurants. “Good grief, what’s he on?” my friend texts back when I send her a photo of the room. As a matter of fact, Russell Sage isn’t on anything; he’s a teetotal vegetarian and one of the most down to earth – even cuddly, I gather – in-demand designers around. But he loves storytelling and surprises and he’s no minimalist. A tiger in the wardrobe? There’s one here. A multi-coloured giraffe? Absolutely. A lime green staircase, an orange chandelier, and another made of test tubes? Of course. As for the lovely morning room, designed to invoke a field of barley, both its walls and ceiling are clad in gold, the bespoke Fromental wallpaper strewn with wild flowers,
with sofas of burnished orange, a swathe of swaying barley along the mantelpiece and framed corn dollies from a local straw work studio, Something Corny. The room is particularly effective at night: the darker the skies become, the more it glows and the orange-amber whisky in my hand matches its hues, as it is meant to.
Let me explain. Glenmorangie House is owned and run by the makers of the eponymous single malt whisky, first distilled by local farmers William and Anne Matheson in 1843. Their Original is still the mainstay of the distillery, a few miles from the hotel, but 21st-century consumer
tastes have changed. Glenmorangie’s very own Willy Wonka of Whisky, Dr Bill Lumsden, has implemented a tide of innovation and experimentation to produce a raft of new whiskies through the use of different casks and by varying the length of maturation. One is Nectar d’Or, its flavours based on Dr Bill’s memory of first entering a French patisserie. My room is called Nectar, hence its theme, and the other six rooms and three two-bedroom cottages are Russell Sage’s take on more of Dr Bill’s sensory influences. Sunset, for example, captures the essence of a whisky called Lasanta – they say that if you could sip a sunset, it would taste like Lasanta – while that tiger in the wardrobe is hidden in a room called Reserve, based loosely on the distillery’s 19-yearold spice and tropical fruit-flavoured Reserve, which (apparently) recalls fantasies of shipwrecks on desert islands.
Just as there are new styles of whisky and new ways of drinking it so, the thinking went, Glenmorangie’s very own house of hospitality, a hotel for the past 20 years, should also have a makeover. In the past, it was the sort of sober place where it felt right to drink your Glenmorangie Original the purist way, with water, nothing else; now a fancy whisky cocktail before lunch (a luscious Long Zest for me, please) feels just right as you debate the merits of whiskies with names like A Tale of Winter, A Tale of Cake, Quinta Ruban and X (specifically designed for cocktails). Glenmorangie, by the way, is pronounced “orangey”, not “angie”: easy to remember once you know that orange is a principal component of its flavour.
But it’s not all eye-popping change at the handsome 17th-century house with the ruins of a castle in its grounds, for it remains a superb example of old-school Scottish hospitality. Creating the atmosphere of a luxurious house party where everything is arranged for you – falconry on the lawn, sea safaris, foraging, beekeeping, stargazing, cocktail making – the delightful, long-serving staff look after their guests with charm and kindness. You will make new friends over superb five-course communal dinners and if you want your haggis piped in, a ceilidh or bagpipes by moonlight, kilted Duncan MacGillivray will oblige. For hospitality and for whisky with a twist in a house full of fun, head to the far north east of Scotland.
Doubles from £340 including breakfast and dinner; ‘Whisky Weekend’ package from £1,100 for two nights