With seven miles of sandy beach, castles galore and a centre packed with independent businesses, Ayr is an invigorating getaway, discovers Emily Rose Mawson
It’s late summer, though the breeze carries an insistent chill along Ayr’s seafront as it sweeps up the Firth of Clyde. Seagulls patrol overhead, and the sand under my feet is taupe-grey, wettened by the recent high tide. Looking to sea, the Clyde is a choppy silver belt between Ayr’s highway of beach and the Isle of Arran on the horizon, with the tail of Kintyre slithering out beyond it. Behind me, the sea wall sprouts seagrass like cress in a pot, partially masking the turrets of Victorian villas.
A black wrought iron sign invites me to walk the Lang Scots Mile – aka half a mile – but Ayr’s beach runs for seven, bookended by the lacy ruins of 16th-century Greenan Castle to the south and the towns of Troon and Irvine to the north.
The beach is the main attraction in Ayrshire’s biggest town, swelling in summer with seaside stalls dangling sun umbrellas and candy. There’s a pavilion and mini golf, rows of pristine flower boxes, and one of the best children’s play areas I’ve ever seen, beside an ice cream parlour named Scoopalicious.
The town centre, which dates from the 13th century, is a short walk from the seafront. It’s so close, in fact, that Ayr has an unusual L-shaped layout due to repeated blasts of sand blown inward from the western dunes. The route crosses Wellington Square with lawns and Victorian statues, all overlooked by Georgian villas, onto Fort Street, a lively jumble of Italian and Indian restaurants, and the delightfully named cafe Chatter Box, with local art in the window.
“There’s been a push for more independent businesses; people are craving something more unique,” says Saskia Singer, who runs the social enterprise business Narture CIC with her father, Robert. “With a combination of creative projects, community-focused spaces, new eateries and a renewed interest in sustainability, I think Ayr is gradually redefining itself.”
Narture’s ethos is to bake bread to fund community arts projects, some of which are installed in empty town centre spaces, replacing boards with cheerful canvases and sculptures. The bakery, on Sandgate in the heart of town, specialises in sourdough and is multi-award-winning. Inside, it’s sunshine yellow, with a lime green floor and murals like a coral reef. I order soup of the day – sweet potato and coconut – with a crusty ham and cheese baguette, and settle in to watch the world move past sandstone buildings across the street.
Sandgate is home to some of Ayr’s oldest architecture, all pilasters, sash windows and pastel paintwork. Loudoun Hall, says Saskia, now an events space, dates from 1666, but Narture’s bread shop and artisan cafe, at number 22, has perhaps the most interesting story.
“It was Lady Cathcart’s house in the 19th century,” reveals Saskia. “She’s infamous. The story goes that she helped fund the Highland Clearances, but demanded the money back, calling the workers ‘nothing more than worthless cabbages’!” Narture’s cabbage lights, by Glasgow-based Urpflanze, are “a subtle nod to this unsettling history”.
As I leave, Saskia recommends a scenic route into the “auld toon” – along the River Ayr towards the 15th-century bridge Auld Brig. “It offers a different perspective of the town, with some lovely views along the way,” she says. From the bridge, the view down the river leads the eye all the way to the Isle of Arran. Soon afterwards, on Newmarket Street, I come across the independent cheese shop McGregor and Reid, and buy some award-winning honey from Low Craighead Farm. Nearby is MAKE, selling local crafts and art.
At Fish Cross, the statue of a fisherman marks the site of one of Ayr’s old marketplaces. Goods including wine, salt, grain, timber and French ceramics once arrived in the harbour. “Ayr harbour was a premier trading port on the west coast,” says Stuart Rich, visitor services manager at the Scottish Maritime Museum in Irvine – 14 miles up the coast on Irvine Harbourside.
The museum occupies the Linthouse, formerly the engine shop of Alexander Stephen & Sons Shipbuilding. It’s known as the ‘Cathedral of Engineering’ for its vast glass roof, and where operations ceased in 1962, the great halls now contain vessels such as a parachute-borne lifeboat designed during the Second World War to rescue airmen shot down at sea, as well as the Venus, built from driftwood by a croft farmer on the treeless island of Foula. There’s also a 1950s Triple Expansion engine from a harbour tug, and the exquisite Fife of Fairlie racing yacht.
“This beautiful – and powerful – yacht was built in 1900 and was owned by the Morton family in Canada,” says Stuart. Outside, Scotland’s last-surviving puffer, the 1940s MV Spartan, tells the story of hundreds of other steam-powered puffers which performed a lifeline service to Scotland’s islands and remote coastal communities for over a hundred years.
The following day, I strike out into Ayr’s surroundings. It’s startling how suddenly the bustle of the town melts into shoulders of green fields. There are more than 40 golf courses in the region, but I’m looking for castles. As well as Greenan, the ruined 16th-century tower house that is only accessibly at low tide, there is Culzean Castle, an 18th-century clifftop work of art 30 minutes’ drive south, with splendid gardens dipping to private sandy coves.
I’ve opted for Dunure Castle – and not just because it was a filming location in one of my favourite television series, Outlander. Saskia earlier described it as an ideal picnic spot – “far enough from the busier beaches to feel more peaceful”. It’s otherworldly: a ghostly ruin bowing towards the sea, with trees forcing up through foundations and windows. It has a labyrinth with the widest possible views over the Firth of Clyde, and the harbour sits within a cluster of fishermen’s cottages.
“From the coast to the countryside, it’s really all about balance – you’ve got beautiful beaches, historic streets, and this openness to both the past and the future,” Saskia told me earlier. She described a “resilience and a pride in the community that I think really defines Ayr”.
Back on the beach, I notice two young children sheltering with their grandparents, huddled in beach towels, each pinning down a corner of their picnic blanket. And I think Saskia might be right.
Where to stay
Fairfield House Hotel
This Victorian mansion on Ayr seafront has 44 rooms with a modern-classic aesthetic – all muted panelling and wooden fittings offset by soft tartans. Book a sea view double for vistas across the Firth of Clyde to the Isle of Arran. There’s also a fitness centre with a swimming pool and sauna, and the restaurant serves Scottish classics as well as a vegan menu. Doubles from £78. (01292 267461, fairfieldhotel.co.uk).
Dine in style
Breakfast: The Meridian Bier Cafe
Serving traditional Scottish breakfasts, available full or light, as well as vegan platters and continental options such as French toast or Nutella pancakes, this lively cafe in the town centre is the place to people watch. (01292 287032, meridianayr.co.uk)
Lunch – Narture
This zero-waste artisan cafe and bread shop does homemade soup of the day, as well as deep-filled sandwiches on award-winning sourdough bread from the Narture social enterprise bakery. The blueberry muffins are perfection: gooey, light and just the right amount of sweet. (01292 284441, narture.co.uk)
Dinner: The Fox and Willow gastropub, Ayr
In Ayr’s spacious green suburbs, this gastro pub is a local favourite, serving classics like steak pie, beef wellington and hamburgers. The pizza with locally foraged mushrooms is wholesome and delicious. (01292 262 846, thefoxandwillow.com)
