Rolling hills of Dumfries and Galloway

Don't trot out your Gucci or designer Gortex in Kirkcudbright, Scotland. Chunky cable-knit sweaters, worn blue jeans and wind-tousled hair are the norm in here, a casual chic attitude shared by the artists, the fishers, the hikers...just about everyone, really.

The village, tucked into the balmy coves of the southern coast, is that sort of place: a seaside resort untarnished by plastic, neon and tourist traps. Go there to daub at a canvas or to ramble the rolling hills of Galloway, among the sheep and Beltie cows. Snuggle into a cafe and wash down scones and clotted cream with a pot of strong Darjeeling. Trace castle ruins along a sparkling shoreline. But don't expect to see and be seen. Kirkcudbright is all about introspection and natural beauty.

The area may be called the "Venice of Scotland", but it has none of the flash associated with gondolas, huge cathedrals and the clatter of stilettos on arching stone bridges. Instead, low terrace houses line the broad streets, boasting the odd peaked gable, pastel trim or coat of black paint, shiny like a wet seal bursting from the sea.

The emerald hills loop over the horizon, thick with trees and shaggy meadows. Commercial fishing boats unload at the quay, nets glaring bright through the shreds of morning mist. Buoys are sold here - and hurricane lamps - but few fridge magnets, peppy t-shirts or plaster models.

Kirkcudbright (pronounced Ker-coo-bree) is a simple, lovely town, which stays true to its ideals. As mystery maven Dorothy L Sayers said: "In Kirkcudbright, one either fishes or paints." She should know. The creator of Lord Peter Wimsey was a regular visitor there in the 1920s.

Sayers wasn't the only writer to draw inspiration from this tranquil landscape. The poet John Keats made a walking tour through here in 1881. "Kirkcudbright County is very beautiful, very wild, with craggy hills," he wrote. "The country is very rich, very fine, and with a little of Devon." (CONTINUED...)