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More Royal less ancient

From the Daily Mail

As Prince William puts his gap year behind him and prepares for student life at St Andrews University, the town is getting ready for a media scrum.
And if the Prince does for tourism a fraction of what he's done for the university's appeal, then the tourist industry has much to look forward to.
St Andrews is a quaint, seaside destination, full of flash-with-cash Americans who have flown in just for the golf.
Back in the 4th-century, Saint Rule, a custodian of the bones of Saint Andrew on the Greek island of Patras, had a vision in which an angel ordered him to carry five of the saint's bones to the western edge of the world, where he was to build a city in the saint's honour.
The conscientious courier was shipwrecked on the rocks close to the town's present harbour and struggled ashore to build his shrine.
The site subsequently became the cathedral; Saint Andrew became Scotland's patron saint; and the town assumed the mantle of ecclesiastical capital.
Tourism began in 1840, when Provost Playfair broadened the streets and created a seaside retreat for genteel folk in search of 'the ancient and healthful exercise of the gowf'.
The elegant North and South Streets became favourite haunts of intellectuals such as Thomas Carlyle and Anthony Trollope, and Victorian hotels began to line The Scores above the expansive beach.
But the centre of St Andrews still follows the medieval layout, built around the university, which was founded in 1411. ... more

Tee and sympathy

From the Daily Mail

Presumably in the hope that I wouldn't take note, my husband had announced, in a throwaway manner, that he was off to play golf in St Andrews. 'I think it's best if I go with a friend,' he said. 'There's not much to interest you or the children, and that cold easterly wind won't be much fun.'
I had different plans, insisting that I went, too. Next time I'll take the children as well for, along with 99 holes of some of the greatest links golf in the world, this beautiful east-coast Scottish town has a much wider appeal. Here is my guide for golf widows and their children.
First, the town is made up of four main streets built with elegant grey-stone town houses - many dating from medieval times. Best for shopping are Market Street and North Street and the smaller streets, such as Greyfriars Garden, which intersect them. Get your bearings at the excellent Tourist Information centre which hands out free town maps.
If you have children in tow, ask for the 'Maisie goes exploring' leaflet - a self-guided discovery walk for children. There's a quiz that goes with it, and under-12s can win a prize at the end of the walk if they return with the correct answers.
To get a feel for the town's history, visit the atmospheric remains of the 12th-century cathedral. St Andrews was the centre of the Scottish Church as early as the 900s, and became one of the most visited sacred sites in Scotland.
In the visitors' centre you can see some of the ancient carvings and gravestones. Don't miss the 157-step climb up St Rule's Tower - you get a wonderful view of the town, beach and surrounding hills. St Andrew, Patron Saint of Scotland, was said to be buried in St Rule's church, which has now been demolished.
Next stop is the medieval castle, which stands on a dramatic cliff edge a short walk from the cathedral. Throughout its turbulent history, the castle has been invaded and captured many times by the English, Scottish and French. Highlights include abandoned mine shafts dug by guards to meet tunnels being burrowed by attackers, a dank bottle-shape dungeon and a garderobe (lavatory) suspended precariously over dark rocks.
For a taste of more recent history, pop into the Preservation Trust Museum on North Street, a pretty Merchant's House containing local information and reconstructed shops. The torturous early dentistry equipment and old pill-making machines would appeal to younger and older children.
If the weather is wet, head for the western side of town, where St Andrews Museum charts the story of the town from the Middle Ages to the present day. Another good rainy day option is the Sea Life Centre near Bow Butts. There are three resident seals - Laurel, Hardy and Rocco - and you can watch the midmorning and afternoon feeding times.
If the weather is fine, a visit to West Sands beach is a must. It stretches for about two miles so there is plenty of scope for losing the crowds. ... more

Why Skye's the limit

Drive 650 miles south from Calais and you'll get as far as Aix-en-Provence. If you drove the same distance north from Bristol where do you think this would take you? Off the mainland of Britain and well towards Iceland, I might have guessed.
Not quite. Last week a 650-mile drive took me to the Isle of Skye, a stint at the wheel of roughly 11 hours including stops for fuel and refreshment.
I left the house at 5am and was driving over the bridge to Skye at around 4pm. Just over two-thirds of the drive - as far as Perth - was on motorway.
It was such a wonderful trip, probably one of the most spectacular drives I've ever taken, that I can't understand why I've never thought of doing it before.
I've driven the length of France on many occasions but, like most British people, have never thought of tackling Britain.
More than anything, the trip through the Highlands of Scotland gave me the feeling of being 'abroad' in my own country.
Skirting the western fringes of Loch Lomond, for example, I found the scenery to be as lovely and dramatic as anything you'll experience along the Rhine Valley. The climb to the summit of Rannoch Moor offered views to rival the Alps.
Skye seemed so exotic, basking last week in a 21C (70F) late April heatwave, the steepling island seascapes tempted comparisons with Corfu or even Bora Bora.
And Plockton, the picture-perfect seaside place made famous by the BBC series Hamish Macbeth, is unrivalled by anything you'll find on the Med.
It all felt so foreign that on occasions I almost found myself wanting to drive on the right-hand side of the road.
The long journey north was made more manageable by the fact that I had the use of the new Volvo XC90 SUV (sport-utility vehicle), Volvo's impressive answer to the likes of the BMW X5. ... more

Lairding it up at Castle Madonna

From the Daily Mail

Madonna and Guy Ritchie got married there. Catherine Zeta Jones, who stayed recently with Michael Douglas, called it the 'most romantic place in the world'. And its former owner, the Scottish-born American tycoon Andrew Carnegie, described it as 'heaven on earth'.
Hitting golf balls on Skibo's private course, flanked by the still waters of Dornoch Firth, with a backdrop of autumnal foliage and snow-capped mountains, my mind was also full of superlatives. Yes, it was icy cold and raining, but that only added to the pleasure, afterwards, of entering the estate clubhouse and kicking off my shoes by the fire to read the papers with a Skibo whisky before lunch.
Today, Skibo is owned by the entrepreneur Peter de Savary, who calls it a residential sporting club. It's also the home of his Carnegie Club - a private club, based in London, whose members come from America and Europe. Non-members can also be treated like Scottish lairds at Skibo, but only for one weekend. If they want to come again, they have to become members.
The idea is not that you are in a hotel, but rather that you have joined a private house party for the weekend. As such, there are some people who might not enjoy Skibo as much as we did. It's a sociable place - you are expected to mingle with other guests, at least some of the time.
Meals are communal, served at long tables. There is no choice on the menu: although dietary requirements are catered for, you basically get what you are given. It would be unfair to describe the Skibo experience as a cross between the Garrick Club and Club Med - but you get the idea.
Certainly it's geared to wealthy American members. On Saturday nights before dinner, Robert Burns's Ode To The Haggis is recited and the dish is toasted with much Glenmorangie before it's eaten. Each morning you are woken at around 8 by the wail of bagpipes. The towelling bathrobes and hot water bottle left in your bed at night are tartan. ... more

We're orf on our hols to Balmoral

From the Mail on Sunday

Strange though it might seem, the Queen Mother's death has lent even greater significance to the Golden Jubilee year.
Critics who predicted indifference were confounded by the overwhelming reaction from the public.
There was tremendous sympathy for the Queen. The Monarchy became interesting again. Prince Charles looked pole-axed throughout and fled to Balmoral as soon as he could.
Balmoral, a 50,000-acre estate of heather-covered hills, forests and rivers on Royal Deeside, 53 miles from Aberdeen, has always been a place of royal refuge. It's somewhere they can be themselves.
After Prince Albert bought Balmoral for Queen Victoria in 1852, seven generations of royals have used it as their holiday home. Now you can, too.
The Queen is allowing the likes of us to stay in cottages and lodges previously reserved for Royals, courtiers and VIPs.
I thought it would be rather good in Golden Jubilee year to mention one was 'orf to Balmoral for one's hols'.
It certainly stopped next-door going on about Costa Rica. The properties had a low-key launch on the Internet. Colt Cottages, two semi-detached homes, are a few hundred yards from the castle.
But though each half is described as fully equipped and furnished for five people, that meant one double bedroom, one single and a sofa bed in the lounge/dining area.
My friend, whose daughter was coming with us, said it looked like army accommodation. ... more