Linksland’s Hidden Gems: Why the Best Golf Bargains in Britain Might Change How You Think About the Game
After 35 years covering professional golf—and a good chunk of that time watching the sport’s economics shift like sand dunes in a North Sea gale—I’ve learned to spot a genuine value proposition. And I’ve got to tell you, the current state of accessible linksland golf in Scotland, England, and Wales represents something increasingly rare in this sport: a democratization of excellence.
Most casual fans think linksland golf means one of two things: either you’re playing in the Open Championship at venues like St Andrews or Royal Troon, dropping serious money and competing against the world’s best, or you’re settling for something considerably less authentic. That’s where most people get it wrong. The reality, as this week’s guide makes clear, is far more nuanced and frankly, more encouraging.
The Authentic Experience Doesn’t Have to Break the Bank
Let me be direct: I’ve caddied on Tour, I’ve walked fairways at Augusta and Pebble Beach, and I’ve watched equipment manufacturers spend millions trying to recreate the aesthetic of true linksland. But here’s what strikes me most forcefully about the current landscape—you can still experience the genuine article at prices that would have seemed impossible a decade ago.
Consider Gullane No. 3. This isn’t some knockoff or “heritage” course trying to capture linksland’s spirit through design wizardry. It’s the real thing—actual Scottish linksland with legitimate pedigree, situated in what the guide correctly identifies as a town that lives and breathes golf. And yet:
“A weekday round starts at £70 (£80 for the day is a bargain, as is £125 to play No. 2 and No. 3 in the same day).”
For context, that’s roughly what an executive will drop on lunch in Manhattan. The value proposition here isn’t just financial—it’s philosophical. You’re getting access to golf’s original form, played on the actual terrain where the game evolved, without the premium pricing of championship venues.
In my three decades covering the tour, I’ve watched green fees escalate at championship courses faster than purses have grown. This creates a perverse situation where the average golfer gets priced out of experiencing the game’s most authentic environments. What this guide highlights is a countertrend—courses that understand their position in the broader ecosystem and price accordingly.
Geography Matters More Than You Think
One pattern that jumps out to anyone who’s spent serious time analyzing golf’s geography: the best values tend to cluster around established golf communities rather than championship venues. Elie makes this point beautifully. Here’s a James Braid design—we’re talking about one of the game’s most accomplished architects—in a genuine golf town where:
“The course starts and ends right in the town, the clubhouse is a cracker, and the starter famously has a submarine periscope at his (and your) disposal to check that the first fairway is clear for your first blow.”
That periscope detail isn’t quaint tourism copy. It tells you something important: this club has personality, history, and confidence in its product. At £60 weekdays, you’re not just playing a course—you’re participating in a golfing culture that stretches back 150 years.
What surprises me, having covered the Scottish Open and spent considerable time in Fife, is how overlooked places like Elie remain among American golfers. St Andrews gets all the pilgrimage traffic. Muirfield gets the prestige conversation. But Elie? It offers something potentially more valuable: authenticity without the circus.
The Cornish Surprise and England’s Underrated Coast
I’ll confess something: before reviewing this piece, I hadn’t given Perranporth or Newbiggin sufficient respect in my mental hierarchy of British linksland. That’s a mistake I’m correcting immediately.
Perranporth sounds like it could be a theme park attraction, but the course description—”vast sandhills and sweeping fairways, blind shots and dramatic views”—reads like a masterclass in what separates legitimate linksland from manufactured heritage courses. The fact that tee times start at £60 means you’re getting championship-quality terrain for what amounts to a reasonable restaurant dinner.
Newbiggin intrigues me most precisely because of its industrial context. Having a power station visible from early holes might sound like a drawback, but in golf, character often emerges from unexpected context. The guide notes it’s “flat but never one dimensional”—and at £30 starting rates, we’re talking about genuine bargain golf in England’s overlooked northeast.
The Bigger Picture
What this guide really illustrates, beneath the surface details about gorse and double greens, is that linksland golf’s future might actually be healthier than championship-venue economics suggest. When courses like Borth—admittedly “a couple of notches down” from its more famous Welsh neighbors—can still deliver “excellent value” at £43 and maintain viability, it suggests a sustainable ecosystem.
In my experience watching tour dynamics over three and a half decades, the sports that thrive are those that maintain multiple entry points. Elite competition matters, absolutely. But so does accessibility. Right now, British linksland seems to be getting this balance more right than most.
These five courses represent something golf needs more of: serious, authentic venues that don’t demand either a championship pedigree or a lottery winner’s bankroll. That’s not just good news for visiting golfers. It’s good news for the game itself.
