(I am standing just inside the portcullis, holding a clipboard that I have absolutely no intention of using. I have a slightly rumpled look, as if I’ve just come in from a long walk and have forgotten to comb my hair. I squint at you in a friendly way.)
Right then. Amenities. You want the list. The nuts and bolts. The “what do I actually get for my king’s ransom.” I understand completely. I am a man of practical concerns myself. I once spent three hours in a hardware store comparing the tensile strength of different garden twines. So let’s have at it.
But let’s do it properly. Let’s not just tick boxes. Let’s feel the amenities. Let’s touch them. Let’s smell them. Because the amenities at Castle Majestic are not just things; they are a series of small, delightful shocks to the system.
Act I: The Arrival Package (Or, The Things That Happen Before You Even See Your Room)
First, let’s deal with the moment you arrive. You will be tired. You will have been in a car, or a train, or perhaps a small, rattling plane that landed on a strip of grass that looked alarmingly short. Your nerves will be frayed.
Amenity Number One: The Valet Who Remembers Your Name.
He does not wear a name tag. He does not need one. He has a small, leather-bound book in his pocket that he consults only when he thinks no one is looking. But he knows. He knows you are Mr. and Mrs. Henderson from Kent, and that you mentioned in your booking notes a mild allergy to feathers. He will say, “Good afternoon, Mr. Henderson. The feather-free pillows have been placed in your chamber. And I believe Mrs. Henderson prefers a south-facing view for the morning light. We have arranged The Garden Deluxe.”
You will blink. You will feel, for a fleeting, glorious moment, like a minor character in a novel by Evelyn Waugh. This is an amenity. It costs nothing extra. It is simply care.
Amenity Number Two: The Welcome Tray.
While you are blinking, another person—a young woman with a plait and a smile that suggests she knows where the best scones are hidden—will appear with a tray. On it: two glasses of something cold and fizzy and faintly alcoholic, made with elderflower from the garden. And a small, warm, slightly misshapen shortbread biscuit. It is the shape of a thistle. It is still warm from the oven. You will eat it in two bites. You will make a small, involuntary sound of pleasure. This, too, is included.
Amenity Number Three: The Disappearance of Your Luggage.
You will turn to point at your suitcase, and it will be gone. Do not be alarmed. It has not been stolen. It has been spirited away by a man in a tweed waistcoat who moves with the silent grace of a cat burglar, but with far more noble intentions. It will be waiting for you in your room, unzipped, with your toiletries arranged in the bathroom in a manner that suggests a still life painting. This is not a request. It is an amenity.
Act II: The Room Itself (A Cornucopia of Small, Perfect Things)
Now we climb the stairs. Mind the seventh step. It creaks. It has creaked since 1742. It is part of the charm. It is also, technically, an amenity. It is a historical audio experience.
You open the door to your room. Let’s say it’s a Deluxe Suite. What do you find, included in the rate?
The Bed and Its Attendant Linens. We have spoken of this before, but I must reiterate. The sheets are not just cotton. They are a specific, long-staple Egyptian cotton that has been ironed by someone with the patience of a saint and the upper body strength of a blacksmith. The pillows are a menu. The duvet is Hungarian goose down, and it has the weight of a comforting secret. Climbing into this bed is an amenity. It is the primary amenity. It is the reason you came.
The Bathroom Grotto. Included: a heated floor (essential for the 3:00 AM stumble), a shower with water pressure that could strip paint (delightful), and a selection of toiletries that smell of the forest floor after rain. These are not little plastic bottles nailed to the wall. They are heavy, glass-stoppered decanters filled with potions made by a woman named Flora in the village. She uses bog myrtle and heather and, I suspect, a small amount of witchcraft. There is also a rubber duck. It is wearing a tiny tartan tam o’ shanter. I do not know who provides the duck. I am glad they do.
The Larder. Open the small, carved wooden box on the sideboard. Inside, you will find: a tin of shortbread (more of it, thank heavens), a jar of homemade raspberry jam, a small decanter of whisky (a ten-year-old Highland single malt, nothing too aggressive for the first night), and a little card that says, “For emergencies. Or for joy. We do not judge.” This is the Complimentary Larder. It is restocked daily. It is an amenity that speaks directly to the soul.
The Technology (Discreet and Unobtrusive). You will not find a giant, black plastic television dominating the view of the Pleasaunce. You will find a small, remote control in a leather case. Press a button, and a painting—a rather dull landscape of a cow—slides silently upward to reveal a screen. It is there if you want it. It is hidden if you do not. The Wi-Fi password is printed on a piece of card that also features a watercolor of a robin. The password is GhostsAndGravy. It is silly, and it is perfect.
Act III: The Estate and Its Bounties (Included in Your Stay)
Now, we must leave the room. I know, it is difficult. But there is more. Much more, and it is all part of the package.
The Grounds. The Walled Pleasaunce, the West Wood, the loch shore path. You do not pay extra to walk here. You simply walk. You will find, at strategic points, small wooden huts. Inside the huts: a flask of hot tea (in winter) or cold elderflower cordial (in summer), a stack of tin mugs, and a tin of that blessed shortbread. Help yourself. It is an amenity. It is the Honesty Hut System. It relies on the fact that people who stay at Castle Majestic are, by and large, decent sorts who would not dream of stealing the tin mugs.
The Library. Included in your stay is the right to sit in a deep leather chair, in front of a fire the size of a small car, and read a first edition of a book you have always meant to read. You may fall asleep. Bram the Wolfhound may rest his enormous head on your foot. No one will disturb you. This is an amenity that is worth more than any spa treatment, though the spa treatments are also excellent.
The Spa (Some Bits Included). Ah, the Vault Spa. The treatments cost extra, yes. We have discussed this. But access to the Thermal Journey—the steam room, the ice fountain, the hydrotherapy pool that sounds like a contented dragon—is included for all guests staying in a Deluxe Suite or higher. For Classic Chamber guests, it is a modest supplement. But the Resting Nest, with its hanging pods and sheepskin rugs, is open to all. You may go there and do nothing for as long as you like. It is the best amenity in the building.
Act IV: The Intangible Amenities (The Things You Cannot Put on a Brochure)
And now we come to the heart of the matter. The things that are included, but which cannot be itemized on a bill.
The Silence. The thick, ancient, woolen silence of the castle walls. It is an amenity you do not realize you need until you are wrapped in it.
The Staff. They are not “staff.” They are characters in the ongoing story of the castle. They will remember that you prefer your tea with the milk in first (controversial, but they will not judge). They will leave a pair of binoculars on your windowsill if they notice you watching the birds. They will, if you are kind and curious, tell you the story of the Grey Lady of the West Corridor, but only after dark, and only if you ask nicely. This is the Amenity of Genuine Human Connection.
The Weather. I include this as an amenity because, at Castle Majestic, even the bad weather is a feature. A howling gale outside makes the fire inside burn brighter. A soft, grey drizzle makes the green of the moss impossibly vivid. You are provided with a large, green umbrella in your wardrobe. And a pair of wellington boots in a range of sizes by the back door. You are equipped to enjoy the weather, whatever it does.
Act V: The Final Reckoning
So, what amenities are included at Castle Majestic Hotel?
The short answer is: everything you need, and a great many things you did not know you needed.
The long answer is the one we have just walked through. It is the warm shortbread. It is the creaky seventh step. It is the rubber duck in the tam o’ shanter. It is the flask of tea in the wood. It is the feeling, as you sink into that absurdly plump bed, that the world has been arranged, just for this weekend, to be a little bit softer, a little bit kinder, and a little bit more magical.
Now, I’ve talked quite enough. Go and explore. Find the Honesty Hut. Pet the dog. Take a biscuit. It’s included.
The castle is waiting. And so, I suspect, is a very large gin and tonic with your name on it. That, I’m afraid, is extra. But it is worth every penny. Cheers.