House of Gods brings its ‘decadently sexy’ hotel brand to Glasgow

What’s the buzz? Five years ago, brothers Mike and Ross Baxter opened their first hotel, House of Gods in Edinburgh, a hyper-stylised 22-room property that only the following year trumped much bigger, grander and more established rivals to win the “best hotel in Scotland” award from the Sunday Times newspaper. Now the brothers are bringing their brand to Glasgow’s Merchant City district, launching last month in a five-storey Edwardian sandstone building (a former Chinese restaurant that did not survive the pandemic). After a three-year renovation, large gilded letters now announce its presence, alongside a slick social media presence, a deep and impressive cocktail menu and an amount of fake gold that suggests consultation with the Trump Organization.

Location, location, location: Once the domain of ship insurers, slave owners and textile barons, today the Merchant City is one of Glasgow’s liveliest postcodes, with a slew of bars and restaurants, including a new Six By Nico and stalwarts such as Café Gandolfi. There are several LGBT+ friendly clubs, as well as a strip of Irish pubs, which are particularly busy when Celtic are playing at home. Glasgow Queen Street station is only a five-minute walk away.

Checking in: I happened to arrive on the sunniest weekend of the year so far. Stepping into the gloomy lobby, I waited for my eyes to adjust, but in 48 hours at the hotel, they never quite did. The reception area and ground-floor bar — indeed much of the hotel — are not so much atmospheric as inconveniently dark.

There are 28 rooms squeezed into the five floors, all serviced by a single, slow-moving elevator. I was given a first-floor room, which meant I could avoid waiting and use the stairs. This was a bigger problem up at the Sacred Garden, a rooftop bar housed in a new glass-walled and air-conditioned extension. The plants here are exclusively plastic, only becoming convincing as the sun goes down and the depths of the cocktail menu are explored. Nearby, plastic statues of Greek gods stand on distressed plinths.

The good weather meant that Sacred Garden was buzzing during my visit, but with just one toilet and around 40 people drinking with sunshine-infused enthusiasm, most hotel guests were left making calculations about whether or not it was quicker to queue for the loo or go back to their room. With the glacial pace of the elevator, this was an especially complicated equation. Worse, none of the floors had numbers, so those taking the stairs had to guess where their room might be.

The rooms themselves were similarly confusing. Their style has been described by the owners as “maximalist” and “decadently sexy”, but if my room called romance to mind, it was only the pay-per-hour kind. Underpowered lights didn’t reveal much beyond the tiger-print on the four-poster bed, with a red LED strip running around the frame. I had been given the “Treat Me Like I’m Famous” package, which includes plastic — hopefully recycled — gold rose petals and branded gold balloons on the bed, a bottle of house prosecco and a box of chocolates from Whittard’s. Over by one of the room’s four mirrors, there was a console with buttons to press in order to summon more prosecco, milk and warm cookies, or a butler.

For all the very particular design of this hotel, there seemed some basics that had not been considered. The marble bathroom contained no towels, which were instead hidden in a thin cupboard back in the bedroom. I thought this was just a housekeeping mis-step, but after the room was serviced, they went back in the cupboard. There was no drinking vessel that was not a champagne saucer, which considering the amount of alcohol being encouraged around the property means a dry mouth awaits.

The soundproofing and triple glazing worked very well to keep out the noise of the Merchant City, but within the hotel it was less successful. One morning I walked along the corridor serenaded by alarms going off in other people’s rooms; another time I could clearly hear my neighbours watching the finale of Baby Reindeer, and briefly wondered how they were coping with the stress.

What about the food? There are bar snacks, small plates and sharing boards on offer in the Sacred Garden, though during my visit most of the young, good-looking crowd were only drinking. Breakfast is served in the same area, but there aren’t enough seats for all guests to eat at the same time. If you don’t want to queue, get there early. The breakfast menu was predictable — a fry-up, eggs Benedict, avocado on sourdough — but well put together.

The real reason to come is for the cocktail menu, the full version of which is served in the Cocktail Lounge on the ground floor. Designed to look like an issue of Vogue, the booklet has a series of drinks themed around various rock ’n’ roll icons and tearaways. Many of the drinks are on the sweet side but have clearly been concocted by experts — the sake-based House of the Rising Sun was a particular standout. I had looked forward to also trying the House of Gods Number Five, which is served in a bottle designed to look like the Chanel perfume, but was told some time after ordering that it was not available.

At around £11 per drink, they sit at the upper end of the price range in Glasgow, but the city has a paucity of decent cocktail bars and the Cocktail Lounge — darkness, golden monkey statues and all — has immediately become one of the better ones.

What to do? All of Glasgow is on the doorstep here. The underground network is just a five-minute walk away, giving easy access to the West End. Closer to the hotel, there’s the retail artery that is Buchanan Street, as well as a series of cafés and restaurants which are among the best in the city. If you can’t get into breakfast at the hotel, nearby Singl-end (on John Street) is a fine alternative, while Spitfire Espresso, on Candleriggs, has outstanding coffee. For entertainment, the legendary Barrowland Ballroom is a 10-minute walk to the east. Glasgow’s much-abused statue of the Duke of Wellington will almost certainly be wearing his traffic cone crown just around the corner.

The damage: The “cabin”, the smallest category of room at just 10 sq metres, is available from as little as £94 (breakfast not included), which is reasonable for the hotel’s central location alone. “Classic” rooms cost from £126, though prices soar through summer and on weekends. The “Treat Me Like I’m Famous” package costs an additional £99, but includes £40 of bar credit.

Elevator pitch: The elevator is so interminably slow at House of Gods Glasgow that there’s plenty of time to hear a pitch of almost any length, but for the sake of neatness let’s say: a colourful prop for anyone looking to have a big night out while letting everyone online know about it.

Jamie Lafferty was a guest of House of Gods, Glasgow (houseofgodshotel.com)

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