It’s ironic that the first hotel I’ve stayed in for a while that hasn’t called
itself “boutique”, encapsulates the boutique ethos better than any property
I’ve stayed in - characterful, small, stylish, superior food, and genteel
service.
It’s only the hotel’s relative isolation that meant I could get a booking just
a couple of weeks ahead – dump this hotel in the Cotswold’s and you’d have a
12-month waiting list for rooms.
I say isolation because the hotel is on the island of Arran, just a couple of
hours by car and ferry from Glasgow, but a world away from frenetic everyday
life. It’s a five-minute drive from Brodick ferry terminal down a bumpy
gravel track to Kilmichael, which is listed as a building of historical and
architectural significance and is reputed to be the island’s oldest house,
with the grounds dating to the 14th century.
The white house has a neat white façade with sash windows looking onto lawns
edged with rhododendrons and dense foliage, across which ducks and peacocks,
known by the hotel owners as “our ladies”, roam.
The entrance hall is a taste of what’s to come – elegant rugs, polished dark
wood floors, feature fireplaces and delicate plaster work along the top of
the walls and around the doorways. A basket of fresh eggs sits in the hall
and guests are encouraged to ring the bell if no one is around.
The manager Helen, or owners, Anthony and Geoffery, show guests to their rooms
– four in the main house (two are suites), four in the courtyard, or one of
four self-catering cottages.
Each room is unique but the common thread is exquisite décor that teeters on
the chichi side of kitsch. Anthony and Geoffery are clearly keen travellers
and have imported bucket-loads of oriental art and furniture, complimented
by heavy floral fabrics and fresh flowers. There is also fruit in every
room, bottled water, tea, coffee, shortbread and a delicate decanter of
whisky.
My room, the Fullarton Suite, was spotlessly tidy with a separate living room,
small television (why would you watch the box when you have a cupboard of
board games to play next to a roaring fire?), and a bathroom with integrated
bath and shower and Arran Aromatics toiletries.
Fires are lit in the two lounges every evening where guests and non-residents
assemble for drinks and canapés before dinner. As well as the games there
are shelves groaning with books and plenty of literature about Arran to help
you plan your stay. There’s also a grand piano, although no-one was
tinkering when I stayed.
Drinks in cut glass crystal gave way to an appetizing three-course meal in the
dining room downstairs. At £38.50, including canapés, coffee and petit
fours, it’s exceptional value, with three choices per course and plenty of
locally-sourced ingredients. Antony is a self-taught chef and his lack of
institutionalisation shows is his flair for combining ingredients. Roasted
chestnut and garlic soup to start, lamb with walnuts and pomegranates to
follow or the unsual combination of apple and calvados with halibut, and
damson gin fool to finish, are examples of some of his dishes, with a palate
cleanser of basil scented lemon sorbet between.
It was the best food we had on Arran – fresh, beautifully presented and
conceived with flair. The diners enjoy silver service and waiters wear white
jackets rimmed with gold braid – but with the soft music, lighting and cosy
dining room feel, the atmosphere remains that of a friendly country house
and not a stiff fine dining restaurant.
Breakfast was equally outstanding - which makes up for the strict 8.30-9.30am
slot - a buffet of cereals, homemade jams, freshly squeezed juice, homemade
breads and pastries and stewed fruits would have been plenty, but the menu
encourages you to indulge further. I loved the porridge (served with a
two-tiered silver contraption that invites you to douse it in cream and
brown sugar), as well as a full Scottish breakfast, kippers, smoked salmon
and scrambled egg, and other delights.
