I was pleasantly surprised driving up to the resort, which appeared majestic and brightly lit atop an imposing-looking hill. Instead of a massive Scottish fortress overlooking the sea, with stags' heads on the walls and open fires warming the chilled air, I found a resort more akin to an elegant country mansion. Gone are the ornate crystal chandeliers, replaced by tasteful modern fixtures. Colors are subtle and light, yet warm, complementing the tones of the ocean and sky. The main public space is flooded with light, thanks to floor-to-ceiling windows and a clean, uncluttered design by one of London's top interior-design houses. And from the moment we arrived, service was warm and friendly.

Our oversized room featured high, palatial-like ceilings, a luxurious king-size bed, and a wall-mounted plasma television complete with sports channels for the man in your life. Designers wanted to give rooms a soft, calming air inspired by the resort's majestic coastal setting, and they succeeded. The elegant, contemporary, black-and-white-tiled bathroom featured separate WC and shower rooms with frosted glass doors, sliding French doors, and a large, bowl-shaped tub that fits two comfortably. The luxurious shower packs a punch with an overhead rain-shower fixture and spray jets. To my relief, the only plaid in sight was a cashmere throw blanket at the foot of the bed.

It was too late to check out the golf courses--worth seeing even it you aren't a golfer--but the leisure center and award-winning spa were still open. I loved the glass-walled swimming pool with its dramatic ocean views, fountain wall, bubbling side fountains, and separate hot tub. The spa offers treatment rooms, hydrotherapy suites, steam rooms, and a fully equipped fitness room to help burn off all the calories consumed at the restaurant and bar. The treatments offered on the spa menu looked positively luscious: aromatherapy, hot-stone massages, reflexology, and hydrotherapy.

After a light supper in the Ailsa Bar and Lounge, we watched in fascination as the staff concocted cocktails, some with guarded secret recipes. The bar staff was young but surprisingly well versed on Scottish whiskies, interesting us in Edradour, a single-malt Scotch from the smallest distillery in Scotland, and an 18-year-old Yamakazi, a Japanese whiskey that won top marks in a blind taste test. After sampling a wee dram, we turned in for the night.

We awoke early the next morning to a glorious view of the cragged coastline, punctuated by Ailsa Craig, a dramatic rock islet 11 miles out to sea. The golf courses and the ocean beckoned us to take a coastal walk to the Turnberry Point lighthouse. Just be sure to watch out for flying golf balls, as the signs warn, if you walk across the course.

We started the day with breakfast while looking out at the ocean from 1906 Restaurant, named for the year the hotel first opened. Fresh smokies (smoked haddock) and Scottish kippers pleased the palate of my very picky partner, and I savored every bite of my traditional English breakfast. A separate breakfast buffet featured a wide variety of fruits as well as unusual and tasty yogurt combinations. Dinner that evening was even more impressive, featuring fresh local products such as Western Isle scallops and delicate Scottish lobster.

As evening fell, we heard the haunting sound of bagpipes outside our window, yet another reminder that we were, indeed, in Scotland! Our assessment: Turnberry, a Luxury Collection Resort, is now ready to reclaim its well-earned five-star status.

HL

Traveling the Countryside by West Coast Rail Trail

Turnberry, which was designed by an architect specializing in train stations, began its life as the Station Hotel. A light railway system running between the towns of Girvan and Alloway served the venerable hotel. Given that history, it seemed only fitting that we add a little rail journey to our own holiday.

I've never been a fan of driving in the U.K. Call me a wimp, but after a rental-car debacle that resulted in an early car-hire return, I'd abandoned the thought of trying again. Perhaps it was the teasing from my British friend's teens as I overcompensated and kept bumping into the curb. I'd learned my lesson and opted for a less stressful form of transportation--the rails. No more fretting about which way to go on the roundabout, where you are on the map, or how in heaven's name to operate the stick shift using a different hand!

Trains in the U.K. are not like the ones I was familiar with from my childhood in the Midwest. They are clean, reliable, and part of a vast, convenient network that can take you just about anywhere. They are just plain civilized. Sip a cup of real English tea, relax, and watch the world go by through oversized windows.

This wasn't my first trip to Scotland, and I have to admit that I'd driven throughout the country with a friend several times. So, although I love the scenery, the thought of a "scenic Scottish rail trip" up the west coast was something that mustered up only mild enthusiasm. It was a been-there, done-that proposition. But a trip on the train is nothing like a trek on the highways. You see things you'd never see as you travel through countryside you wouldn't normally travel through.

After an overnight stay at the comfortable Glasgow Hilton--where I burned off a few calories in the spa and pool--we headed to Glasgow's Queens Street Station to begin our scenic West Highland tour. As the train pulled out of Glasgow, we followed a route parallel to the River Clyde, watching as populated areas gave way to quiet countryside as we headed toward Garelochhead Station. Soon, it was easy to see why Britain's Wanderlust magazine dubbed the West Highland Route the most scenic rail trip in the world! The scenery was magnificent and constantly changing. The sky transformed from blue to grey, and the light changed minute by minute. From within a gray haze, a golden glow erupted across Scottish hills dotted with trees, vegetation, and highland cattle.

Panoramic views and a submarine base were pointed out by the friendly Scottish rail staff, who were thrilled to share the vistas and history of their native land with new friends from "across the pond." We saw the bonnie banks of Loch Lomond outside of Arrochar and Tarbet before heading further north to Crianlarich. The names alone reminded me I wasn't in Ohio anymore!

The train pulled into Crianlarich station, giving us a few minutes to walk down the platform before it separated into two parts--one heading to Mallaig, the other to Oban. We chose Oban and continued northwest, passing through Glen Lochy en route to Dalmally. The train chugged along curving passes, and before we pulled into Loch Awe, the conductor pointed out the mysterious ruins of Kilchurn Castle, the ancient stronghold of the Campbell clan.

Soon we arrived in Oban, Scotland's seafood capital and its most popular west coast vacation destination. We stashed our luggage in the left-luggage lockers at the station and walked from one end of town to the other, past charming stores and fish-and-chips shops. We'd scheduled a quick return to Glasgow with a transfer to Ayr, so we didn't have time to visit the Oban Distillery for a sample of one of Scotland's oldest single-malt beverages.

Oban, or "little bay" in Gaelic, is the gateway to the Inner Hebrides Islands. Once again, there was no time to take a ferry to the magical islands of Barra, Coll, Colonsay, Lismore, Mull, Tiree, or South Uist. We'll just have to leave that for another day!

January 2010