A Lowland Welcome
Because of its location, Turnberry has always been a bit removed from the rest of world, serving as a haven for wayfarers walking or riding the moors, far from other towns and villages. A tradition of open-armed hospitality sprang up in the days before motor vehicles; today, though the need for easy generosity is no longer as acute, the genial customs remain. Turnberry is still populated by people who care about what it means to be Scottish, who are eager to share stories of fact and legend that have been passed down for generations. These are the people who welcome modern-day travellers to Turnberry.
The succour of whisky
Auchentoshan, Littlemill, Inverleven and Glengoyne north of Glasgow. Glen Scotia, Springbank, Glengyle and Arran across the Firth of Clyde. Bladnoch to the south. Distilleries in the areas around Ayrshire still produce the same mellow but fiery drafts that have warmed weary travellers for hundreds of years. From gentle, floral lowland spirits to the bolder concoctions of the highlands, the visitor to Turnberry hears a story with every pour—tales of illicit stills, long-lost hoards and ghosts of former proprietors who still oversee distillation. At the Ailsa Bar—open until the last drinker turns in—a pitcher of water is kept perpetually on the bar, but to mix it with whisky is to tempt the barkeep’s ire.
The comfort of food
The cuisine of the region is hearty and satisfying. Duck, rabbit, venison and lamb caught on local estates join classic dishes such as haggis and oatmeal that became popular because of their portability in the days when Scottish society was mobile. A rasher of Ayrshire bacon or a hunk of Dunlop cheese, mild and sweet and well-paired with a dram of whisky, still refreshes.
The atmosphere of repose
Coming from any city in the world, a trip to Turnberry is like travelling back in time 50 years. Utterly unhurried, the magic of its days lies in their simplicity. Troubles seem to lift away. Turnberry service is solicitous but remains in the background with the elegant yet comfortable surroundings, leaving guests with the impression that they have been invited into the luxurious country home of a friend. A lone bagpiper plays daily, shattering the late afternoon silence with moody notes and filling listeners with a simultaneous peace and exhilaration that is difficult to articulate but easy to savour. At times, visitors to Turnberry get the pleasant sense that they and their companions are the only people on its grounds.