It's about showing residents that their views and feelings matter

Margaret Kelly sits down with Paddy the dog at Inch View

Margaret it seems is more the 20 Dunhill type than the outdoors type. But sitting in her armchair, her window sill covered in family photographs and birthday cards - she turned 81 on March 10 - she is cosy and comfortable, perfectly at home.

"It's a lovely room this," she says. "Really lovely. The last place was nice too, mind, but this is really nice. I'm still getting used to the place, but I know where the smoking room is, that's for sure."

The "place" is Edinburgh City Council's latest state-of-the-art care home for the elderly. Previously Margaret, like half of the 52 other residents, had been living in the outdated Craigour home in Moredun. The rest were in the rather run-down Balmwell House in Gracemount.

Over the last fortnight, they have slowly been moving in, after helping to choose the decor and furniture of Inch View, as it was christened by children from the next-door Liberton Primary School. Many suffer from varying degrees of dementia, some have high-dependency health problems, but all have, according to manager Maggie Johnstone, settled with few problems.

"I've really been amazed at how well they have coped," she says. "We brought their belongings here the day before they moved in themselves so that when they arrived there was something familiar and that seems to have helped. We were prepared for difficulties, but none have arisen."

The 8 million home is a strange mix of cutting-edge technology and crocheted blankets.

From the outside it looks more like a new secondary school than a home for old folk, set over two storeys and in four distinct blocks. Inside there's an aroma of fresh paint and new carpet in the wide corridors. Vivid watercolours and oils are hung along the walls, and while there are moments when it feels a little like you could be inside the new Royal Infirmary, the idea is instantly dispelled when Paddy the dog bounds up to greet you, or the yellow and green budgies, number one and number two, start to squawk.

What Inch View most definitely is not is the stereotypical care home which all too often only comes to public attention when inspectors discover abuse of residents or other failings. Indeed, most people's ideas of old folks' homes revolve around cliches: unpleasant smells, inactive residents who sit in mournful circles in dingy lobbies, staring vacantly at the telly or at each other or out the window waiting for the next meal of pureed mush, slowly waiting for their lives to end.

It's an impression which was only reinforced when successful businessman Sir Gerry Robinson investigated the dementia homes on offer in England two years ago and found a number where the care and stimulation of residents seemed to be the last thing on the owners' lists.

Inch View is starkly different, as are the other three new council care homes opened in the last few years, according to Maggie, who has worked in the sector for almost 20 years.

For a start the 60 bedrooms are split over the four blocks, 15 in each. As a result there are also four different communal lounges, so no resident has to look at the same face for more than five minutes if they don't want to. Then there are the four cafe-style dining areas, the quiet rooms - which will eventually become rooms where relatives can stay when their parent or grandparent - is near the end. If that's not enough, there are the garden areas, which although fully enclosed to stop anyone wandering off, mean that residents can get outside without having to be chaperoned all the time.

If they don't want to watch TV, play dominoes or pool, to talk to their relatives abroad via Skype, to play the Wii, to tend the raised beds in the residents' garden, to sit out on the verandahs and watch the schoolchildren play at break-time - the same ones who they are teaching to knit - or even anything else, then they are perfectly free to sit in their rooms, which have large en-suite facilities, or take the three-mile hike around the whole home.

"This place is purpose built," explains Maggie. "A lot of people with dementia get extremely frustrated when they hit a dead end in a corridor, so that doesn't happen here. They can keep going round and round if they want - and they do. In fact, we've discovered that they are eating much better since they have arrived here and I think it's because they are hungrier because they are more physically active.

"While we offer a variety of meals, if they don't fancy any then they can ask for what they like. We also have residents who are on soft food diets, so their food does have to be pureed, but we have special moulds which makes their meal look like it should. If it's supposed to be a chop that's what it looks like. It's all about making them feel they still have a certain independence, that their views matter, and that their feelings matter, too."

Dignity certainly seems to be the watchword. In the old homes the lounge chairs would be scattered with blue pressure sore cushions to alleviate pain. Now those cushions are covered in the same material as the chairs, so no-one can tell who is suffering. There is no set timetable for residents. They can get up when they like, eat when they like, go to bed when they like and, if they are able, can go to the shops for their newspaper.

As well as their own en-suites, there are large bathrooms with showers and self-cleaning jacuzzi baths, which come with chairs to help residents get in and out. These chairs can also attach to wheels, so they can go straight from room to bath without walking, or having to be manhandled in any way. The bathrooms also have gentle music piped in to soothe away the day's cares.

Standards are, says Maggie, much higher than those demanded by the Care Commission. Staffing wise, there are 13 on every shift and seven at night.

But then, the council has an eye on the future. The care home industry in Britain is worth 6 billion, a figure which is set to rise as the population gets older and, most likely, increasingly demented.

So investing in care homes is vital if those who do live to ripe old ages are to be able to live their lives with dignity, even if they cannot cope in their own homes.

Maggie says: "When a family has to put a relative into the care of a unit like ours, it is a huge undertaking for them. They don't want to do it, but they've normally come to a place where they can't cope any more.

"No-one wants to think they've put their loved one somewhere awful, where the care is not up to scratch.

"That's why these units are so good. People can see from the outset how their relative will be living, what they will be able to do. They are here to live after all."

There's certainly plenty of life left in Margaret Kelly. She doesn't go on the weekly bus trips - that's not her style - but she likes getting her hair shampooed and set once a week at the on-site hairdressers and looks forward to visits from her sons.

"It is very nice here," she reiterates. "The people are really nice, too. I'm quite happy here."

With that she heads off, pushing her zimmer frame ahead of her, looking for a cup of tea before going for another fag.

OUT IN FRONT

INCH View scores a few firsts in care homes.

It's the first in Scotland to harvest rainwater on the roof, filter it and then use for flushing toilets and heating the home.

It's the first - council or private in Edinburgh - to have infrared sensors in the bedrooms. So if someone gets up at night, staff are immediately alerted and can check for falls. Lights also come on automatically when the en-suite bathroom door is opened.

Again, it's the first council or private home in the city to offer quiet rooms where relatives can stay over for residents nearing the end of their lives.

It has its own library.