This Art-Filled Scottish Highlands Hotel Is a Year-Round Delight

To reach The Fife Arms, you must first cross the Cairnwell Pass. (That is, if you are coming from the south, as visitors generally are.) Don’t panic, however, when the A93 grows steadily narrower and steeper—at one point, it glides through a glacial valley and becomes the highest main road in the United Kingdom—as you’ll eventually wend your way back down the other side to encounter some of the most spectacular vistas in all of Scotland. Then, in the distance, beyond the tangles of heather that color the valleys purple every summer, you’ll spot the cluster of rambling gray stone buildings that make up the village of Braemar.

At the end of that hair-raising journey is the imposing edifice of The Fife Arms, a grand Victorian coaching inn with distinctive red-trimmed eaves, which overlooks the babbling river that runs through the village known as the Water of Clunie. If, by this point, you feel like you’ve stepped back in time to a world of Jacobites and Roundheads, then a short walk into the building’s lobby will quickly bring you back into the present day. At first, there are all the trappings you might expect: tartan wallpapers, stag heads hung high on the walls, staff clad in tweed breeches circling a grand oak front desk. But then, you spot the chandelier made of glass antlers that glow neon. And, wait: Is that a Picasso hanging on the opposite wall? (It is.)

The reason for this delightfully topsy-turvy mishmash of the historical and the bracingly contemporary can be ascribed to the property’s owners, Ivan and Manuela Wirth of the global art behemoth Hauser & Wirth. Hence the Picassos—and elsewhere, a floor-to-ceiling photograph of a wolfhound by Martin Creed, hanging round the corner from the enormous Louise Bourgeois spider that looms in one of the courtyards, or a dazzling hand-painted ceiling by the Chinese artist Zhang Enli situated a few rooms away from a drawing of a Highland stag by Queen Victoria.

Speaking of Queen Victoria, if the name Braemar sounds familiar at all, it’s likely due to the area’s deep-seated royal connections. Just 10 minutes up the road you’ll find Balmoral Castle, the summer estate beloved by British royals from the Victorian era all the way up to the present day. (And if that weren’t enough of a royal stamp of approval, The Fife Arms had its ribbon cut in 2019 by King Charles and Camilla themselves.)

Yet the atmosphere is anything but fusty. What appears behind the check-in desk as a bookshelf stacked with colorful tomes is in fact where you’ll find the room keys, with each accommodation matched to its own literary theme; this was all explained by the endlessly obliging local staff of ghillies, a Gaelic word for hunting or fishing guides that has here been repurposed to refer to the concierge. (However, they will help you arrange a hunting or fishing trip too, should you wish.)

I was led up the sweeping oak staircase to the first floor, and into one of the rooms inspired by local Scottish culture—more specifically, the natural wonders of the hotel’s surroundings, with a sentence from a poem about pine cones inscribed on the roughly hewn wooden headboard. The vibe was a kind of riotous, maximalist Highlands fantasia, with tartan rugs and deep green velvet curtains and a gorgeous wallpaper with silhouettes of trees in the forest covering every wall. (Think Liberace of the Glen.) It’s immensely stylish, yes, but also has that all-important thing: soul.

After our long journey deep into this bucolic corner of Scotland, however, our appetites had been firmly whetted, and it was time to head down for dinner. Our first port of call was the jewel box of a bar, Elsa’s, which takes its cues from none other than Elsa Schiaparelli, who, it turns out, spent time in Braemar as a guest of her friend Frances Farquharson, the first wife of the 16th Laird of Invercauld and a former editor of Harper’s Bazaar. (I tried the “shocking pink” ginger wine cocktail served in a Champagne flute, taking in the deliberately offbeat decor detail of a Hans Bellmer La Poupée print under a sleek silver disco ball.)

Then, it was into the Clunie Dining Room, which offers perhaps the most striking example of the century-hopping spirit of the hotel’s interiors: from floor to ceiling, you’ll find a hand-painted mural by the Argentinian artist Guillermo Kuitca, offering a Cubist interpretation of the river that flows beneath its windows, punctuated with Old Master paintings, like an enormous peasant scene by a member of the circle of Breughel the Younger. Here, you can enjoy a meticulously executed menu of haute Scottish fare—the Aberdeenshire beef Wellington is a particular showstopper—as well as hearty Sunday roasts on the weekends, perfect after a long morning trek through the Highland drizzle.

After all, the real reason you come to this corner of the world is to embrace the great outdoors—so, early the next morning, it was time to do just that. We were greeted at reception by the cheery Annie Armstrong of the local company Wild Braemar, who took us on what was advertised as a hike and a charcoal drawing lesson, but also somehow became a fascinating tutorial in just about everything you could possibly want to know about the local area. Armstrong regaled us with tales of local history, an overview of which forest mushrooms you can and can’t eat, and some tips for wild swimming if we were feeling particularly daring. (We did manage to squeeze some sketching in there too.) And after we’d passed what is known to be a favorite foraging spot of King Charles’s, a teepee was laid out with a fire roaring inside, and we tucked into a picnic lunch of smoked trout sandwiches and homemade sausage rolls, while flicking through picture books of the local flora and fauna. Pure pastoral bliss.

Perhaps most interesting, though, was observing the broad cross-section of guests and visitors the hotel seemed to attract: an elderly, well-heeled English couple, the corduroy-wearing husband sipping a dram of whisky as the coiffured wife drank a glass of white wine; early 40somethings from London on a joint family getaway, their kids in tow; even a few locals propping up the Flying Stag bar with pints of bitter.

It’s little wonder why. The Fife Arms is the full-blown, old-school Highlands fantasy, and yet you get the sense that, really, it could delight just about anyone. For those who fancy classic hospitality and glamour, you’ll happily find it in the hotel’s epic sprawl and top-notch dining. In the market for a more 2024 take on the rural Highlands stay? Spend the afternoon on a contemporary art tour by one of those ghillies, or book yourself in to be pampered with a massage using hot stones from the nearby Cairngorns. And, of course, it’s a perfect spot for adventure seekers—just make sure to give Armstrong a call, and to pack your tightest swimmers for one of her cold water swimming sessions in the glassy waters of a nearby loch. Here’s the rare hotel that truly has it all.