Taychreggan Hotel – No Mint, Just Midgies

You know when you arrive somewhere and immediately wonder if you’ve time-travelled into a Highland-themed episode of Antiques Roadshow? Welcome to Taychreggan — a charmingly ancient hotel perched at the edge of a loch, wrapped in mist and mystery, with more dogs than people and just enough tartan to invoke a clan war.

The Setting

Middle of nowhere. And I don’t mean “idyllic remote” — I mean you’d better fill up your car and your will before you turn off the A85. Oban is the closest trace of civilisation, about 30 minutes away unless you’re being chased by a Highland cow.

The views? Unreal. Mountains. Loch. Drama. It’s like staying inside a Windows XP desktop background. The dining room views alone make you forget the midgie bites swelling on your ankles.

The Rooms

Our room was clean and proudly Scottish — which is to say, a little old, creaky in places, but deeply characterful. Think “Outlander, but on a budget.” Beds comfy. Bathroom worked. Curtains held up by sheer determination and probably ghosts.

The Food

Now this is where Taychreggan goes full Michelin-star-meets-midgie-bite.

• Dinner? Phenomenal. We had the chateaubriand steak — it was so tender it may have been massaged before cooking.

• Cheese trolley? Oh yes. A literal rolling cart of creamy temptation wheeled up to your table with more varieties than I’ve had birthdays. I panicked and pointed at five.

• Breakfast? Full Scottish. Bacon, sausage, egg, black pudding, tattie scone, haggis — basically a heart attack on a plate, but what a way to go.

The Cocktails

Beautifully presented and lethal. They come in delicate glasses with garnishes and innocence, then knock you sideways. Only issue: they’re all charged to your room, so while you’re floating through the loch in a gin haze, your bill is building like a student loan. Worth every penny.

The Beer That Wasn’t

I asked for Guinness and got BrewDog’s “Black Heart” — close, but it tasted like Guinness after a bad breakup. Sad, hoppy, and slightly passive-aggressive.

The Staff (and The Tomato in Human Form)

Now here’s where it gets truly memorable. Everyone was polite, helpful — and then there was him. The man. The myth. The legend in the bright red suit and matching red shoes. A walking cherry tomato with the charisma of a game show host and the timing of a stand-up comic. Was he real? Was he part of the hotel’s immersive theatre programme? No one knows. All we know is he’s apparently “moved on to new pastures” after completing Tinder. I genuinely hope that’s not a metaphor.

Local Activities

If you’re feeling fancy — or just want to legally shoot things in the countryside — Ballimore Farm Estate is only 10 minutes away. They offer clay pigeon shooting, which is perfect if you’ve ever wanted to yell “PULL!” at something other than hotel staff.

The One-Star Sidekick: The Midgies

Let’s be clear: it’s not the hotel’s fault. But the midgies were relentless. I came for the peace and views, I left with legs that looked like bubble wrap. Bring repellent or prepare to be someone’s dinner.

Final Thoughts

I came for the scenery. I stayed for the cheese. I’ll return if that red-suited enigma ever reappears for a guest comeback tour. This hotel is mad, magnificent, mildly haunted, and exactly the kind of chaos I love.

Rating:

🧀🧀🧀🧀 out of 5 cheeses

(Minus 1 for the midgies, plus 1 for the red-suited fever dream)