I ticked a magical night at this iconic Edinburgh hotel off my bucket list

Since I was a child, I’ve wanted to stay at this grand dame of a five-star venue, now a Curio by Hilton hotel. 

Whenever I pass the red sandstone brick building in the morning, and inhale the breakfast croissant fragrance that wafts enticingly along Lothian Road, I think, ‘one day’.

And, at last, they invited me along for a night. 

That’s because there have been a few changes, as the hotel undergoes a £35 million renovation under owners Henderson Park. The rooms are gradually being updated, but, more notably for foodies, Peacock Alley has recently been relaunched as The Court. 

It’s in the cavernous atrium that was once Princes Street Station in this former railway hotel, and has been redesigned with a Twenties vibe that’s inspired by the form of the Caledonian Railway No. 123 steam train. There are golden accents, reminiscent of well-polished pistons, and rich velvety sapphire and russet seating, but the piece de resistance is the perfectly symmetrical horse-shoe shaped bar.

They’ve also ‘zoned’ the area, so it works for those in the market for a more casual drinkie, bar snack, club sandwich or coffee, as well as full meals, with a menu designed by chef Mark Greenaway. (Unfortunately, his adjoining Grazing restaurant is no longer, as Greenaway has now decamped to open a gastropub in Cumbria, and his old gaff is now the hotel’s breakfast area).

While things are being shaken up down here, up on the first floor, you’ll continue to find Dean Banks’ restaurant in what remains the most beautiful room in Edinburgh, aka the Pompadour.

Not tonight, as we were booked in for dinner in The Court at 7pm.

But, first, we checked in and headed up the grand staircase, where singing cowboy Roy Rogers once led his horse, Trigger.

He’s just one of many legendary residents. There were rumours that Taylor Swift stayed here, during her recent Eras Tour, and they’ve hosted Nelson Mandela, Gene Kelly, Richard Burton, Elizabeth Taylor and a smattering of royals. 

We clippet-y clopped up to the Sir Walter Scott Suite.

It hasn’t been redecorated, but retains its beautiful old-school feel. 

There are oil paintings of Scott and his home, Abbotsford, in the living room, as well as an antique inkwell, a few of his leather-clad editions, a modern and huge telly and comfortable chairs in the same shade as Taylor’s azure eyeshadow. The bedroom boasts a king-size bed, and useful extras, like a Dyson hair-dryer and yoga mat, while the white marble-clad bathroom features a walk-in shower, huge tub and Arran Sense of Scotland products. 

The views from the living room are incredible - the castle seems as if it’s within touching distance, and St John’s and St Cuthbert’s look atmospheric in the mizzle. 

They have - excellently - provided a pair of binoculars, so we can almost see as far as the Saturday Farmer's Market and up to the esplanade.

However, it’s most fun to spy on the vapers and the smartphone scrollers who are waiting in the bus queue. I watch them pour onto my usual bus, the number 10, but I won’t be catching it tonight. 

Before dinner, we have a shot in The Spa by The Caledonian, where there’s a pool, sauna, Jacuzzi and steam room, and soon it’s feeding time. 

As a jazz singer riffs on the small stage, we order preprandial cocktails in the bar area. I go for the Puffin Martini, which is like a Christmas trifle in a glass, with Takamaka Rum Extra Noir, Discarded Banana Peel Rum, Tempus Fugit, Creme de Cacao, Pedro Ximenez Sherry and orange bitters. 

Punchy, too, I feel a bit merry, when it’s time to take our table.  It’s very sophisticated in this zone, but there are cute touches, with grey seal Tern Ceramics cruet sets on the table (others have Westie dogs and owls).

I order the wintery fried duck egg, oxtail and toast, followed by retro chicken Kiev, which is as decadent and don’t-spare-the-butter as I’d hoped, and he opts for the Scottish white crab with French toast, then roast cod loin.

The puddings are especially intriguing, and we couldn’t not order the 16-layer carrot cake and the invisible sticky toffee pudding. 

I was imagining some kind of David Blaine level sleight of hand with the latter, but it’s basically a wad of sponge, underneath cotton candy. The waiter pours hot sauce on top and - poof! - a white bunny appears. Not really. But it’s a good, almost miso-savoury dessert. We also counted and ate every single one of the carrot cake’s 16 skinny layers.

And, of course, the next morning was my Big Day - the culmination of a life spent in the Capital.

At last, I get to taste those croissants, and not just smell them out on the street. It was a hearty breakfast, with a full Scottish as well as those pastries.

I thought about it all the way home, on my number 10 bus. 

Rates at The Caledonian (Princes Street, Edinburgh, 0131-222 8888, www.hilton.com)  start from £350 low season for a night in Premier Room