Dreaming Witchery owner who cast a spell on Castlehill

Published on Friday 16 January 2009 09:00

A CRACKLING log fire casts a warm glow over sumptuous furnishings, flickering its light over centuries-old red and black leather-panelled walls, lavishly framed oil paintings and rich tapestries.

From outside comes the strange human-like call of one of Prestonfield's peacocks, the crunch of footsteps on the gravel driveway and a refined greeting from the doorman for another well-heeled guest.

Time seems to have halted here 100 years ago, when ladies took tea in the drawing-room overlooking the gardens, while the gentlemen discussed serious matters that needn't worry the fairer sex . . .

In the first-floor Leather Room – an antique-filled treasure chest of curios – sits the 'lord' of this manor. He is dapper in a distinctly modern-cut ocean-blue pinstripe suit, crisp shirt and silk tie – one of at least 2000 in his collection. He reflects in clipped Edinburgh tones on the 30th anniversary of his best-known business.

James Thomson – owner of the five-star hotel in the shadow of Arthur's Seat, the man who turned the unlikely notion of a restaurant on top of the Museum of Scotland into a contemporary dining 'must' for foodies, and who, precisely three decades ago, snapped up what was a poorly located premises for a restaurant and turned it into one of the Capital's most talked about venues, The Witchery – is clearly at home.

Yet appearances can deceive. For while James Thomson OBE, recipient of various awards for his business acumen and his contribution to Scottish tourism, is the epitome of a refined gentleman, beneath that dapper suit lurks a side to this pucker gent's personality that most of his guests don't see.

"Oh yes, I'm in the Tartan Army," he reveals with a broad smile. "I've travelled to quite a few places now following Scotland: Poland, Latvia, Estonia, Croatia, San Marino . . . I find there's this wonderful camaraderie.

"I've met lots of friends in the most unusual places. Yes, I'm totally hooked."

Diners who have enjoyed his hospitality within the opulence of Prestonfield, the theatrical stage of The Witchery or the sleek contemporary ambience of The Tower might be surprised to learn their host can more than hold his own among a tartan-clad, lager-swilling mob of football fans.

Thomson, it turns out, became an avid fan during the 1998 World Cup, when he found himself in Paris watching Scotland play in the opening game against Brazil.

And, yes, he does know quite a few rude songs, none of which he is prepared to share right now.

Instead he is reflecting on 1979, when he also defied expectations and turned a property in a dead area of town into one of Edinburgh's best known restaurants, The Witchery.

"For a start, it was hardly the best time to open a restaurant," he recalls. "Castlehill was a different place then. There was an empty church that eventually became The Hub, a water tank that's now the tourist centre and buildings that were used by the council's department of drainage.

"No locals bothered going there, the tourists were only around three months of the year and there was no help for small businesses.

"Back then, people ate in hotel restaurants: the Ambassador at the George Hotel, the Pompadour at the 'Caley', the North British Hotel – and they didn't eat out very often.

"There were three or four staff and I was the chef – all very much prawn cocktail, T-bone steak and Black Forest gateau," he grins. "It just grew from there."

He could add that, aged 20, he was also the youngest licensee in Scotland embarking on his first proper job. Previous experience included a schoolboy stint at Crawford's tearooms and, a delicious irony, working as a waiter at the then Prestonfield House Hotel.

All that plus this was a career that his parents would have preferred him not to have embraced.

Yet from those unlikely foundations, Thomson now presides over a trio of venues, with 250 staff scattered between them. Too bad if you happen to yearn for a prawn cocktail, steak and chocolate cake – he leaves the cooking to some of Scotland's finest chefs.

Not bad for a George Heriot's boy dismissed as a 'dreamer', whose parents hoped he would become a lawyer or a doctor, but preferably not a chef.

"They had paid good money for my education, but I knew from the age of 12 what I wanted to do," he recalls. "I'd worked at Crawford's tearooms at North Bridge washing dishes on a Saturday. I loved the theatre of the old-fashioned tearoom, the hustle, the bustle.

"I said to my father: 'What is life if you can't have dreams?'"

He went on to run a small buffet-catering business – "friends' 18th birthday parties and so on" – before spotting the potential in a 16th century building in the Royal Mile, partly developed into flats with a restaurant space in the basement.

He found Witches Well nearby, commemorating the place where over 300 'witches' were burned alive. Inspired by the history, he adopted it as the theme for his new restaurant.

"It was the Seventies. Everyone was doing smoked-glass tables, suede walls and Habitat furniture. But I loved history, art and drama – I was always a hopeless romantic. I had some antiques from my late aunt's house, so it came together."

Eventually he snapped up space around The Witchery and created The Secret Garden and seven opulent suites, which have housed the likes of Michael Douglas, his wife Catherine Zeta-Jones and Jack Nicholson. Dannii Minogue famously referred to one suite as "the perfect lust-den".

While celebrity endorsements might be good for business, Thomson, the epitome of discretion, refuses to divulge much about his A-list guests. The best he offers is the tale of a bizarre episode at The Witchery, when the voices behind hit cartoon The Simpsons rolled into town with creator Matt Groening.

"They came for a meal and as they had a little more to drink they started to sound more and more like their characters," he smiles. "At the end of the evening they were all speaking in character: Bart Simpson, Homer, Marge. Quite bizarre really."

His visitors' book reveals a bit more. It's an autograph hunter's dream, which includes a personalised poem by Bob Monkhouse and comments from Ewan McGregor, Joanna Lumley, Pierce Brosnan and Ronnie Corbett. Tucked in its pages is a sketch by Groening of Homer Simpson extolling the virtues of The Witchery, and on the back page an image of Bart, thumbs up, declaring it "delicious, atmospheric, spooky!"

Today Thomson presides over his empire of venues – he paid 1 million alone for Prestonfield's artworks. He has a collection of awards, and a personal weak spot for accumulating antiques, militaria, including more than 100 army sporrans, ties and suits.

It is strange then that the man behind some of the Capital's most desirable rooms, with all their theatrical splendour, should declare himself practically 'homeless'.

"Every time I buy somewhere to live, it becomes a business. I was going to live here," he explains, surveying the splendour of Prestonfield, "but my room became the Owner's Suite – our best accommodation.

"I'm not short of a roof over my head," he shrugs, "just not a house as such. I'm a bit of a nomad.

"That said, I've spent 30 years at The Witchery. So I suppose it will always be home for me."

STORY OF SUCCESS

JAMES THOMSON opened The Witchery in 1979, in a 16th century building that had previously lain almost derelict.

By 1989 demand had grown so much that Thomson created a second restaurant, The Secret Garden, next door.

A series of suites were developed on the site in the late 1990s – each decorated in Thomson's trademark lavish and theatrical style.

In 1998 he launched The Tower at the Museum of Scotland and in 2003 he completed the restoration of Prestonfield House Hotel.

The hotel hit the headlines in 2004 when then Labour MSP Mike Watson was given a 16-month sentence after admitting setting fire to curtains in the reception area.