Alright, so I finally caved and decided to check out St Andrews in the fall. You hear about it, you see the pictures, and eventually, you just gotta go see for yourself, right? I’d been putting it off, thinking it might be a bit too… tweed and shortbread, if you know what I mean. But the timing felt right, needed a change of scenery.
Getting There and First Impressions
Packed a light bag, nothing fancy. The journey itself was pretty standard, the usual train shuffle, then a bus that trundled along. Stepped off that bus, and the air hit me first. Sharp, a bit salty. Not unpleasant. My first thought? “Okay, it’s smaller than I pictured.” Which isn’t a bad thing, just an observation. You see these places in your head, all grand and sprawling, and then reality is a bit more compact, more… manageable.
Finding my little rented room was an adventure in itself, up a narrow street, cobbled, of course. Everything felt old, but not in a crumbling way. More like it had settled into its age comfortably. The famous university buildings were right there, practically tripped over them. Lots of young folks buzzing around, looking terribly serious with their books. Made me chuckle a bit.
Wandering Around in the Autumn Chill
The “fall” part was definitely legit. The leaves were doing their thing, all golds and reds, especially in the quieter bits of town and around the cathedral ruins. Speaking of ruins, that cathedral, wow. Just skeletons of walls against the grey sky. Impressive, in a stark kind of way. I spent a good while just walking there, feeling the wind whip around. It’s got a proper atmosphere, that spot.
And the beach! West Sands. Famous, isn’t it? Walked along it, the tide was out. It’s huge. Just vast. Saw a few brave souls walking their dogs, battling the wind. I wasn’t brave enough for a paddle, not in October, thank you very much. But the sheer scale of it, with the town huddled at one end, that was something.
- Walked the length of West Sands (or tried to).
- Explored the castle ruins – more wind, more history.
- Drank a surprising amount of tea in various little cafes.
- Just watched people, students mostly, rushing about.
The golf courses are everywhere, obviously. You can’t escape them. I’m no golfer, couldn’t tell you a birdie from a bogey, but you can feel the history of the game just by being near the Old Course. It’s like a green carpet laid out for very serious people in slightly odd trousers.
The Real Feel of the Place
What struck me most wasn’t just the old stones or the sea air. It was the mix. You’ve got this ancient university, these world-famous golf links, and then just… normal life happening. People buying groceries, kids going to school (the non-university kind). It wasn’t a museum piece, even though parts of it felt like one. It felt lived in.
The evenings were quiet. Properly quiet. After the students went off to do whatever students do, the town kind of hunkered down. I liked that. Good for thinking, good for just being. Didn’t find it overly touristy, not at that time of year anyway. Maybe I got lucky. Or maybe it just absorbs people well.
I left feeling…calm. Not blown away by fireworks and fanfare, but quietly satisfied. It wasn’t the twee postcard I half-expected. It was a real place, with a bit of grit under its fingernails, and a whole lot of sky. Definitely worth the trip, if you ask me. Just pack a warm coat. And maybe leave your golf clubs at home if you’re like me and just there to soak it in.
