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Three Georgian houses in the New Town, joined to form a smartly decked-out hotel. The Albany’s restaurant, Haldanes, is one of the main draws, with a reputation for great Scottish fare.

Joining its sister hotel up the road at No. 31, with modern, simple and functional rooms, and a mix of business and family facilities (photocopying and secretarial services in the former case, cots and high chairs in the latter).

Set by one of the most picturesque roads in the isles, this 1904 house has been completely refurbished, while retaining certain period features. Light décor, simple furnishings, captivating views – a B&B of the highest calibre, with the option of dinner. A self-catering cottage is also available.

Extravagant (almost) to the point of kitsch, this velvet-clad, gold-trimmed hotel is in the funky Philippe Starck mould. The rooms are spacious, with big beds and pillows you could nest in.

The smallest of the hostels, with room for 38 in simple, clean dormitories. Backpackers also has the Castle Rock hostel (0131 225 9666) if other branches are full.

An extraordinary retreat, its hospitality overseen by the remarkable Zawadskis (see Balfour Castle, Orkney) .

A castle with real home comfort, completed in 1848 to a slightly eccentric calendar design (it has 7 turrets, 12 entrance doors, 52 rooms and 365 panes of glass). This family-run hotel has style, class and great service. There are four-poster beds, open fires, a library and even a private chapel. A garden and locally-produced food with flavour add to the mix (see Balfour Castle, Orkney) .

The most prestigious of Edinburgh’s old-school hotels, right in the heart of things on Princes St. Sports facilities and two great restaurants, Number One Princes Street and Hadrian’s brasserie.

George Orwell sought the isolation of this house when he came to Jura to write Nineteen Eighty-Four . You get to stoke the cooker with coal, much as the writer would have done in 1946. If you don’t have a four-wheel drive you’ll have to walk the last 5 miles (8 km). Check out the Corryvreckan whirlpool, but don’t – as Orwell did – get caught in it.