HOUSE OF GODS If decadence is your bag, this is the Edinburgh getaway for you

House of Gods is the place for indulgence and excess. We’ve booked the ‘Treat Me Like I’m Famous’ package, and it certainly delivers. Golden rose petals and balloons cover the four-poster. The bed is accented with patterned cushions and velvet curtains, with a cheeky strip of red LED running around the canopy. We embark on a hunt for other treats and soon hit gold. A mirror opens to reveal a slimline coffee machine and tea station. A minibar lurks in the bedside drawer. The mirrored panel at the foot of the bed becomes a television with just the click of a remote. It’s a compact room but everything you could need (and more) is packed in.

We pop a bottle of House of Gods’ prosecco, recline on the pillows, and gorge on a selection of handmade chocolates while nodding approvingly at the decadence that surrounds us.

Before we head out to dinner, a ‘star-tender’, with an appropriately rock’n’roll vibe and snappy leopard-print shoes, knocks on the door. He has a mobile bar in tow and chats us through the process of creating the zingy cocktail. It’s further proof that you’d barely need to leave your room to have a great stay here.

There’s no restaurant, but we’re right in the middle of the Old Town, so there’s no shortage of dining options. Once we’ve eaten, we head straight back to the Cowgate: the Treat Me Like I’m Famous package comes with a bar tab and we intend to abuse it diligently.

The Casablanca Cocktail Club is a few steps from the hotel entrance (just past the newly opened Lilith’s Lounge – both bars are part of House of Gods). Up a flight of stairs is a similarly moody interior, decked out with fringed table lamps and plump armchairs. It’s Sunday night and a drag performance is in full swing. The quick-witted set and impressive dance moves soon have my partner turning to me and whispering, “I finally understand lip-syncing!” – high praise indeed from someone who can barely sit through a whole episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Time for more drinks: the cocktail menus look like glossy fashion magazines, with their cool photos and brief histories of the legends who inspired the drinks. The homage to Keith Moon, Exploding Drum, might be my favourite: a fitting mix of tequila, passion fruit and citrus notes. We bow out just before midnight (hey, we’re no spring