For me, travel is more than seeking a respite and a break from routine. I’m looking for ways to refill the creative well too which is exactly what I found at the Market Street Hotel on a recent visit to Edinburgh.
Unlike the city’s more iconic luxury hotels (The Balmoral, Gleneagles), the Market Street hotel doesn’t try to impress you with a grand entry space. Instead, you’re sent straight to the seventh floor to check in, where you’re handed a glass of champagne and treated to a framed view of Edinburgh’s sandstone skyline via a glazed reception room.
It breaks the frame of travel and removes you from the busy street below which was welcome after a long day on the train to get there. Arriving, you can’t help but notice this modern building’s place in the historical context at the edge of the old and new city (see the second photo below).




Here’s what I learned:
1. Context Is a Design Material
The hotel doesn’t just sit in Edinburgh, it reflects it. The local sandstone façade, narrow vertical windows, and asymmetrical roofline draw from the city’s historic forms without imitating them. This approach, building with history rather than against it, is a masterclass in contextual design. For those of us designing in heritage-rich environments, this strategy is worth studying: decode the language of place, learn from it, then remix it.
2. Restraint Is the New Luxury
There’s little ornament here and little superfluous detail. Materials do the real work inside: local stone, oak, plaster, wool. The full-height interior shutter slides on soft-close hardware across the windows eliminating the need for blackout curtains. This creates a womb-like refuge in the city center blocking out light and holding in the heat (surprisingly effective). It’s also a warm contrast to the cloudy, often dreary climate. Storage is integrated into often unused spaces below the TV, around duct chases and integrated into the mirror (with rounded corners to make cleaning easier).
Mirrors are used as wall coverings everywhere helping to extend views and make this small space feel generous. Slide the shutter closed and a mirror is revealed behind it, a functional detail that makes the closed room feel larger. The lighting is layered (accent, task + ambient) and everything is on dimmers (love this!) The fixtures are familiar, but feel bespoke.
The lesson: you can design with warmth and richness without defaulting to “more.”




3. Arrival Can Be a designed experience
Check-in isn’t in the entry lobby on the street level, it’s on the top floor. Granted that creates an extra step that the greeter who met us informed us of as we entered. However, that in itself was a chance for the hotel to personalize the experience, he asked where we were traveling from, called our elevator and tapped the seventh floor button sending us on our way. In a time when we’re so often face-down planted in our phones this human connection is noticeable (and welcome).
Upon arrival there, you’re greeted with a glass of champagne, a sweeping view of the city’s rooftops and directly behind the reception desk a look at the historical sandstone details of the building across the close (a Scots term for an alleyway). What a strong move to put the welcome sequence high above the chaos of the street in a controlled reframe of the context.
The lesson: re-think the default assumptions (lobby on first floor) in our own work. When we question our baseline assumptions and defaults it’s a chance to break the frame + introduce surprise.
4. Materials make Small Spaces
Our room was compact (see the plan below), but it never felt confined. Oak underfoot in the sleeping space, wool where you’d lean, stone where there’s water or on an exterior wall (Scottish castle references perhaps?) Each choice played a role: softening sound, grounding the space, reflecting light, resisting wear. These choices along with the decision to change the ceiling plane and volume made a modest footprint feel rich with experience. We felt like we were guests in a friend’s home rather than visitors in a hotel.
The lesson: in small spaces, materials can do more than “decorate.” They can carry the weight of the architecture. If you’re designing tight quarters, choose three materials and make each abide by a set of rules.
Level 3 Floor Plan (highlighting our room in yellow)
5. Public Spaces, Privately Felt
The design theme carried seamlessly into the shared spaces. Dining took place on the seventh floor, tucked into steeply pitched, mirror-clad dormers. This had the effect of reflecting both the historic city beyond, the diners within, and capturing views to vistas that would normally be obscured depending on where you were seated. We sat low in upholstered chairs, gathered around residential-scale tables beside an open kitchen. It didn’t feel like a restaurant, more like being invited into someone’s home, with the trust that you wouldn’t spill your haggis on their couch!
This was a space that invited you to linger and, equally, appreciate all the curated modern art on every available wall.






6. Every Detail Matters
What struck me most was how it felt to be in the room: cloistered and private when you needed it, open and connected when you wanted to feel a part of the city. You were in control of the light level, or how sounds were muted, and the materials rendered the space in rich tones. This restraint is what makes it feel luxe.
Even the spare toilet roll had its own leather sheath. I didn't search for a towel hook or a bottle opener, they were right where I expected them. Shelves were plentiful and captured oft-unused interstitial spaces. Mirrors were used to great effect to make small spaces feel larger. Touches like pivoting doors to separate the lav and changing area from the main room made everything feel more residential than hotel-like. Shower heads concealed in the ceiling, low-profile lights right where you needed them bedside, slippers, a fully stocked bar with local beverages, teas and coffee, a local (physical) guidebook, design magazines on the table.
It really felt as if the room was answering questions before I had a chance to ask.
I left with sketches, ideas, and a clearer head. But more than that, I left with a reminder to go out and study the built work of others. Stay in places that were designed with intention to experience and learn from them.
A good hotel will give you a place to sleep.
A great one will change how you see a place.
Resources:
→ Design Hotels - If you travel this way too, this is one of my favorite sites to browse for stays.