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You make memories at hotels. And each is haunted in its way. Every time I walk into One Devonshire Gardens in Glasgow, the dark woodwork of the curving staircase leading up to all that ornate stained glass from the late 19th century makes me feel like I’ve wandered into the opening paragraphs of James Joyce’s The Dead. It is handsome, grand and suits an afternoon of fresh snow and hanging fog.
Recently, much of the original floor tiling in the entrance hallways to what is currently the Hotel du Vin was revealed and sympathetically restored. It embroiders the narrative. This would be a superb place to spend Christmas. Except, these aren’t my first thoughts when I arrive at One Devonshire Gardens….