The Linksland Renaissance: Why Scottish Golf Has Never Been More Accessible
After 35 years covering professional golf, I’ve watched the sport swing wildly between elitism and accessibility. We’ve seen Augusta prices climb into the stratosphere, private clubs become more exclusive than ever, and the average golfer relegated to municipal layouts that bear little resemblance to the game’s soul. But here’s what’s got me genuinely excited right now: linksland golf—the original, the authentic, the stuff that made this game worth playing in the first place—is having a moment of democratic grace.
The premise is simple but revolutionary: you can play world-class linksland courses along the coasts of Scotland, England, and Wales without mortgaging your home. Not the mega-famous layouts like The Old Course or Muirfield, sure. But “courses that are wonderful to play and also kind to the pocket” are suddenly within reach for ordinary golfers. That matters more than you might think.
The Value Play That Challenges Everything
I caddied for Tom Lehman during his prime, and Tom always said the best golf lessons came from playing championship-caliber courses on your own terms—not as a spectator, not on television, but as a participant. For decades, that experience was reserved for tour players, members of exclusive clubs, and people with serious disposable income. The linksland value movement changes that equation.
Look at the numbers: Gullane No. 3 starts at £70 for a weekday round, with the ability to play both No. 2 and No. 3 in a day for £125. Elie—a James Braid design in a legitimate golf town—runs £60 on weekdays. Newbiggin, despite being overlooked by most touring golfers, starts at just £30. We’re not talking about muni courses here. These are legitimate tests of golf that demand shot-making imagination and strategic thinking.
What strikes me most is that this isn’t a trend born from desperation or oversupply. These courses have always been good. They’ve always been accessible to locals and golf pilgrims willing to make the journey. But for the first time in my memory, the golf media and the travel industry are actively pointing people toward the value plays instead of just breathlessly promoting the status symbols.
Location, Location, Location—And Community
There’s something I noticed during my years on tour that casual fans often miss: the best golf experiences happen in towns built around the game. Not courses plunked down in developments. Not resort layouts in tropical locations. Towns where golf is woven into the fabric, where locals grab a pint and talk about their round the same way they discuss the weather.
The article nails this with Gullane: “Just to play golf in this neck of the woods feels special and to make the journey up and over the hills is terrific fun. In all directions you see golfers swinging and yet you rarely hear them such is the isolation.” That’s not marketing speak. That’s what golf was supposed to feel like. I’ve stood on fairways at Gullane, and the isolation combined with the knowledge that you’re surrounded by golfers creates this almost meditative quality that you won’t find at any resort course or private club.
Elie deserves particular mention here. A small town on the Kingdom of Fife coast, it’s got the infrastructure of a real golf community—proper clubhouse, shops, restaurants, pubs. The course starts and ends in town, which means your golf experience extends beyond 18 holes. It becomes a social event, a pilgrimage of sorts. That’s worth far more than the £60 weekday green fee suggests.
The Character That Can’t Be Manufactured
Having covered 15 Masters and countless tour events, I’ve come to appreciate something that modern golf course design has largely abandoned: quirk. Intentional imperfection. Courses shaped by nature and history rather than laser levels and modern machinery.
Borth in Wales is the perfect example. “It’s a quirky spot, one where the road sometimes attracts stray shots. At other times the beach does so. And there’s even a house that comes under threat from the tee.” Try getting that approved by a modern design committee. Insurance companies would have conniption fits. But that’s exactly what makes linksland special. These courses have personality. They demand adaptation, creativity, and respect.
Perranporth captures the same spirit—sweeping fairways, dramatic views, blind shots that require imagination. The course calls for golfers to think, to visualize, to trust their instincts. That’s linksland golf at its essence, and you can play it for £60.
The Bigger Picture
In my experience, golf’s long-term health depends on accessibility without sacrificing quality. We’ve spent two decades watching professional golf become increasingly inaccessible to ordinary people—television ratings are down, course closures are up, and the average golfer feels increasingly disconnected from the sport’s elite levels.
This linksland value movement represents a quiet counter-trend. It says that great golf doesn’t require exclusivity. That authentic experiences don’t demand five-star resorts. That championship-caliber courses designed by legends like James Braid can thrive while remaining affordable.
The courses highlighted here—Gullane, Perranporth, Elie, Newbiggin, Borth—aren’t throwing open the doors out of desperation. They’re operating from a position of confidence. They know their product is strong enough to speak for itself. That’s refreshing in an industry often driven by price escalation and perceived scarcity.
The best golf I’ve seen over three and a half decades wasn’t always at the most exclusive venues. Often it was on courses like these—places where the game itself, rather than the membership status, was the point. For anyone serious about experiencing linksland golf in its truest form, these five courses represent not just value, but authenticity. And that, in my book, is worth the journey.
