THE MAZDA MONTROSE MYSTERY

EVERYONE has somewhere they consider home. For many, it may not be where the heart is, but it is generally a place of formative memories that have left an indelible impression. For me, home is a town called Montrose in Angus on the north-east coast of Scotland – even though I left more than 30 years ago.

Most will be unfamiliar with it, but Montrose has plenty to be proud of. It’s home to the world’s fifth-oldest golf course, a testing par 71 that I once negotiated in 74 shots. It has a pro football team, whose winning of two major honours I was present for. And there is a beautiful three-mile beach, which I appreciate now, but used to hate on mid-winter school cross-country runs.

So Montrose has a lot going for it, even if