Esther Beadle revisits a city reinventing itself as a cultural powerhouse on Scotland’s stunning east coast

Wind buffeting my hair, I gaze out into the pin prick clear distance. Birds swoop below me and sweeping down before me is what appears to be a quiet, sleepy set of houses, streets, and towers.

Bubbles of tufty field and woodland stretch as far as the eye can see, sprouting up across vales and hills before the mountains grow out of the earth and loom on the edge of the huge, azure blue sky.

This tranquil setting, nestled into the Scottish land that surrounds it, belies what is going on in the city below me. Its charming isolation suggests that Dundee is sleepy, lost, cut-off.

Look again at the streets than tumble below this view from the Law, a hill that rises from the city boundaries, home to a striking war memorial to Dundee’s fallen.

The sturdy Tay Bridge grasps on to Fife on the other side of the water. On the front, the first steel breaths of development and regeneration are beginning to take shape. The most notable, from my view atop this high mound, is the V&A Design Museum. It’s a symbol of the emerging ambition in the city as it strives to find a sustainable alternative to the jam, jute and journalism that made its money over the the 20th century.

Many places have tried and failed to transform themselves into brochure-ready cultural hotbeds of tourism. Dundee is different. I take lunch at the bustling Dundee Contemporary Arts, a gallery-cum-cinema-cum-workshop-cum-restaurant in the city centre. Ordinary families drink Coca Cola and pensioners eat fish and chips, while bright young hipsters slurp coffee and watch their iPads.

Behind us, artists can be seen in the midst of their work, beavering away in a glass-walled studio in the heart of all this every day. This culture thing in Dundee belongs to all. No one is excluded. The Verdant Works, an old jute mill converted into a museum, is a great example. Building on a successful reputation as a grand day out for the family, the museum’s High Mill main hall is undergoing a £2.9m restoration. Reclaimed machinery will be in full flow to show just how the city was built on the textile industry. And at Halloween, they’ll be joined by graffiti artist Pure Evil for a one-off exhibit secured after a national Museums at Night public vote.

There’s a big push that this artistic drive should sprout from the grassroots. As well as the support fledgling start-ups have here (creative collective Fleet operates a great hot-desk operation for such firms just above a BrewDog pub), more established homegrown businesses are celebrated and promoted as the foundations of the city’s bright, polished future.

Strolling through the city’s shopping centre Overgate, I stumble across a group of art students, selling keyrings, prints and brooches they’ve crafted as part of a burgeoning desire to harness their entrepreneurial flair. They tell me they’re desperate to turn it into a regular stall and there is an enthusiastic confidence it will be embraced with gusto.

What is charming is that all this culture-pushing hasn’t saturated the streets with identikit bars of bare brick and girders. It’s well worth taking a trip round the decent old pubs sat pretty much on every corner.

Oxford Mail:

  •  The striking exterior of the Dundee Contemporary Arts Centre

Perth Road’s The Speedwell, known affectionately as Mennie’s after a long-serving landlady, is the truest old boozer I ever had the joy to walk into. Its muddy-coloured curtains and racing on the telly are perfectly complemented by an unspoilt Edwardian bar, CAMRA-approved ales and more than 100 single malt whiskies.

For dinner, I stop by the newly-0 opened Italian Grill. Perfectly placed on the side of the city’s main square, there’s a similar vibe to the pubs. From the outside it seems so quiet, but step through the door and I’m catapulted into a hive of laughing, clinking glasses and happy foodies. I’m feeling adventurous and go for the special. Wood pigeon and pheasant, with golden pickled beetroot, apple puree and sweet potato arancini. It’s experimental, well thought out and utterly delicious.

The Malmaison is where I’m laying my head for these two nights. It’s a glorious hotel, right on the waterfront, with beautiful wide views across the Tay.

Before I leave, I have the chance to wander down to Broughty Ferry. Small, quaint and perfectly picturesque, the castle and its history exhibits will easily fill a morning. And the views from the top are staggeringly beautiful, with even the details of Arbroath visible from its windows.

Yes, there is a lot in store for Dundee. Catch it now, be one of the first to discover it. It’s a fascinating mix of old, new and yet to come. Dundee is still a little rough round the edges, but its charms are ready and there for the taking.