On The Road in an Aston Martin

There are few more evocative British brands than Aston Martin, particularly ever since Sean Connery’s James Bond 007 was introduced to his gadget-laden DB5 in 1964’s Goldfinger. Modern Aston Martins carry on that tradition of handcrafted muscularity and unmistakable Britishness, and I was lucky enough recently to experience it first-hand on a spin in a gorgeous DB9 Volante, the very same car McKinlay Kidd clients are able to enjoy on our popular Aston Martin 007 Weekend holiday.

Aston Martin Inside with treatment

We were fortunate to have a bright, sunny day, so wrapped up warm, dropped the top and headed south for some quieter backroads around Glasgow. Nothing can prepare you for the awe-inspiring power of the 5.9-litre V12, and oh, that sound! Real hairs-on-the-back-of-the-neck stuff. But the car was equally happy just pootling around, whispering through villages, the low-slung leather seats easily comfortable enough for a whole day on the road.

Now, if I only I could find the keys lying around somewhere…

Words and images by Chris @ McKinlay Kidd

Exploring ancient civilisations in Orkney

Last month I was in Orkney for the first time. I have never been that far north before. I flew from Glasgow to Kirkwall, the main town, instead of taking the ferry. The weather was gorgeous and we could see all the islands – turquoise water and empty lands…I was already loving it! As a non-driver, I want to share some recommendations of what to see and do. You don’t need a car to explore Orkney and see the main sites.

Kirkwall is a great base with very nice hotels in town, giving you the opportunity to walk everywhere. Go to the pub and try one the island’s famous whiskies – Highland Park or Scapa. Explore St. Magnus Cathedral, located on the main street. Known as the ‘Light of the North’, it is one of Orkney’s Viking splendours and definitely worth a visit. Staying in Kirkwall makes it also very easy to visit other islands. Did you know that Orkney has more than 70 of them? From Kirkwall ferry port you can go to all the northern isles, for example Shapinsay, Westray and Papa Westray.

If you have time, I advise going to the isle of Rousay for a day trip, taking the ferry from Tingwall. The visibility was so good that we could see all the other islands around us – even Westray! I discovered from the local guide that Rousay is called the Egypt of the North because of so many neolithic remains, such as Midhowe, with its broch and cairn.

No trip to Orkney is complete without at least a visit to Skara Brae and the Ring of Brodgar, both are listed as world heritage sites. At Skara Brae, you can imagine how ancient people were living… and also walk down to the nearby sandy beach. The Ring of Brodgar was for me a completely different experience. A circle of standing stones? I’ve never been interested in such sites, but as it’s one of the most famous and iconic symbols of Orkney’s prehistoric past, I thought it would be a shame not to see it. OK, I take back everything I said! It is a very impressive and spectacular structure!

A trip to Orkney is a truly remarkable experience, when you can feel the history and find something unique around every corner.

By Kim @ McKinlay Kidd

(Featured photo: St. Magnus Cathedral, Orkney)

Been there, done that, where to get the T-shirt?

During my time at McKinlay Kidd, I’ve been lucky enough to travel to some amazing places in Scotland, and indulge my love of empty beaches, wildlife (particularly Shetland ponies) and seafood. One thing for sure is that I also really, really love a good gift shop – I can’t resist bringing back trinkets from my travels for my friends and family, as well as the obligatory sweet treats for the McKinlay Kidd team of course!

Scotland still proudly promotes traditional crafting methods and celebrates original artwork and textiles. So, think beyond the cliché idea of Scottish souvenirs such as shortbread tins and bagpipe fridge magnets and take a look at my top gift shop recommendations.

Bonhoga Gallery, Shetland

This former barley mill at Weisdale has been converted to a gallery featuring contemporary visual arts and crafts. It boasts an extensive range of locally produced prints, textiles and cards in the gift shop. The mill also houses a café serving light lunches, so is well worth a visit. If you do find yourself in the area, stop off at Shetland Jewellery en route!

Ragamuffin, Isle of Skye

Situated on Armadale Pier in an idyllic location, Ragamuffin is home to the very best knitwear and original clothes. Beware though…this place is an Aladdin’s cave of treasures, so you may find yourself in here for a while. Don’t miss your ferry!

Rarebird, Isle of Lewis

If you journey to the Outer Hebrides, you’re sure to be spoilt for choice when it comes to buying Harris Tweed products. My top pick is Rarebird studio in Stornoway which combines a skilful blend of reassuring tradition and modern flair into each handmade Harris Tweed creation. To ensure its provenance each item carries the Rarebird Corncrake logo and Harris Tweed Orb label.

Iain Burnett Highland Chocolatier, Perthshire

For chocolate lovers, The Scottish Chocolate Centre is a must. The centre is located in Grandtully, just five miles from Aberfeldy, and is Home to the Highland Chocolatier, Iain Burnett himself, who is dedicated to chocolate and its origins. The centre also houses an enchanting, vintage style gift shop. Perfect for those last-minute purchases for family and don’t forget to but yourself a few of the centre’s award-winning dark velvet truffles to take home.

Isle of Mull Soap Co. Isle of Mull

Situated on colourful Tobermory’s Main Street, the Isle of Mull Soap Co. produces its natural soaps by hand using the traditional cold process method using the finest quality essential oils & botanicals. Psst….we hear their ‘Buzz Off’ soap is great for fighting off our wee midgie friends!

By Zoë @ McKinlay Kidd

(Featured photo taken outside Ragamuffin, Isle of Skye)

Walking in the steps of greatness

Last weekend I spent a wonderful day in St. Andrews, the town referred to the world over as ‘the home of golf’.

St. Andrews to me is a magical place, where the greats of the game have walked the famous links for generations.

My family name is Morris, and I have always believed – though so far have no evidence to support it – that Old Tom Morris, one of the forefathers of The Open Championship is my ancestor.

The magnificent golf museum, across the road from the clubhouse is a must for anyone interested in the history of the game. We had afternoon tea in the rooftop cafe which looks out over the Old Course and the links beyond. We watched groups of golfers having their picture taken on the famous Swilcan Bridge, before ‘hearing the roar of the crowd’ as they walked up the 18th fairway.

My late father was an enthusiastic golfer. What he lacked in talent he made up for in perseverance and spirit. The Open was a TV highlight in our household. He watched in awe every year as the swashbuckling, glamorous American players took the game to new heights. Jack Nicklaus was his hero. By the time I started to understand what it was all about Tom Watson was the man of the moment. You can’t share the same hero as your dad, so Tom Watson was mine.

Over the years we went to all the Open Championships that were hosted in Scotland. Carnoustie in Angus; Muirfield, in East Lothian, near Edinburgh; Turnberry and Troon on the Ayrshire Coast (where I was born and raised) and of course St. Andrews. Tom Watson won at all of them, apart from, sadly, St. Andrews. I kept cuttings of all his victories in a scrapbook which later ended up in a suitcase in my parent’s attic.

Many years later in 2009, my sister and I were selling the family home and I found the scrapbook in the suitcase, slightly dusty but still intact. Tom had made something of a miraculous comeback that year, nearly winning The Open again at Turnberry 26 years after his last victory, but in the end it was not to be. Prompted by my find, I decided to send an email to his management company passing on my commiserations and mentioned that I had just found the old scrapbook. To my amazement I received an email back thanking me for my kind words and asking if I would like to meet Tom at St. Andrews the following July, as he was keen to see my ‘work’

We met at the clubhouse on the eve of the tournament – in fact he called himself in the morning to confirm a time – We chatted about his career, his Scottish ancestry, my imagined connection to old Tom Morris, and what a wonderful place he thought Scotland and its people were. I gave him the scrapbook which he seemed touched by.

They say you should never meet your heroes, as they always disappoint. Not if your hero is Tom Watson and not if the meeting place is the ‘home of golf ‘.

By Julie @ McKinlay Kidd

(Featured photo: St Andrews Golf Course)

Going back to my roots

Heather McKinlay in search of family roots and food on the Hebridean island of Tiree.

It’s a strange feeling when you have never been somewhere before, but you know a part of you is “from” there: my great, great grandfather was born on Tiree in 1810.

The plane from Glasgow was delayed somewhat – low cloud over the island meant it was after three when we first set foot.  So the search was on for a late lunch.  We suspected this might be challenging here on this most westerly of windswept outposts.

The hotel in Scarinish had stopped serving at 2.30pm.  The enticing Sam’s Seafood Van across the road claimed to offer all day fare, but the shutters were resolutely pulled down.  We headed back out of town, following signs to “Chocolate and Charms”.  We arrived at a very quaint shop, crammed with colourful crafts and shiny silver jewellery plus copious chocolate.  Coffee and cakes were on offer too, but I have a rather savoury tooth, so the hunt continued. A little further on, the Farmhouse Café promised Mon to Sat opening.  It was just 4pm as we pulled alongside, only to see the “closed” sign flapping on the door, while the last, lucky customers hastened out of the side entrance.

The hunger pangs were worsening, so I tore into the recently purchased bar of chocolate to ease my mood while we meandered along the single track roads back to the main town.  Nothing for it but to settle for the lunch of last resort – a savoury pastry, bottle of water and some raspberries straight out of the Scarinish Co-Op.

Tiree is famed as the windiest corner of the UK, attracting surfers of all persuasions.  It also has an enviable sunshine record: often the rain and clouds simply blow-in off the Atlantic and straight over the top of this low-lying land mass.  Today, however, the clouds were hanging about.  Even through the grey and the spray, the place had an alluring aura, and a strong sense of community.  Maybe my Tirisdeach (“from Tiree”) roots were influencing me somewhat?  Or perhaps I was just happier now I had eaten!

I’d made an appointment to meet Duncan, the volunteer genealogist at An Iodhlann, the historical centre.  Here I heard fascinating stories of how Tiree people had spread far and wide, though many just to Glasgow.  We browsed island records both on and offline in search of McFarlanes and MacArthurs (my paternal grandmother’s line), while learning about the island’s social history.

It is unfathomable to compare my upbringing and comfortable modern-day lifestyle with that of my Scottish family going back just a generation or two.  My great, great grandfather left Tiree at some point in the first half of the 19th century – perhaps because of the potato famine, perhaps on the promise of work elsewhere within the Duke of Argyll’s lands, perhaps because he met and fell in love with a visitor – now I’m almost certainly over-romanticising. The census of 1851 shows him in Campbeltown, Kintyre, working as a “drainer” laying clay pipes.

McFarlanes and MacArthurs are still found on Tiree, so I may have been brushing shoulders with distant cousins.  Just as we were leaving the historical centre, I spotted a picture of D&A MacArthur’s Stores – once the main general store in Scarinish.  I read that it burnt down several decades ago, to be replaced on the same site by, you’ve guessed it, the Co-Op.

Maybe my lunch venue of last resort was just meant to be.

by Heather McKinlay