The Virgin Hotel is new-ish or at least new to me thanks to its Covid timed opening. Perched at the top of Victoria Street in a stately building, quintessential to the Edinburgh landscape, it seemed like the perfect location for an apero and new hotel investigation.

The lounge was a heady combo of tres chic and tres funky with some really fun (and questionable art). I was just grabbing a quick one, winding down from the day, so I stayed barside and took in the surroundings– many American tourists.

The elegant space seemed to pride itself in the craft cocktail theme, complete with a massive ice block in front of me on the counter. The barmen annoyingly chipped away at it during my stay, no doubt getting ready for the evening ahead. The unnerving sound and a very dodgy pour of champers didn’t have me wishing to return to a space begging to be filled with fun tunes and thoughtful extras…

There was nothing extra, save a few pounds on the bill. I called the barman on it who said oh yeah they knew about the problem and their new menus would be printed next week. Charming. He fixed the total, seemed to automatically add gratuity (not previously on the bill) and took my card without a second glance. It’s the principle of this transaction that won’t have me returning. My ice pick migraine thanks me as well.