On every final Thursday in November, an American invasion falls upon the Quaint Scottish town of St Andrews; they come in larger numbers and heavier pockets than normal, and here, that is saying something. This, of course, is the result of Thanksgiving. The holiday has been heavily imposed on the unsuspecting Brits with the influx of students, like me, who love the tradition. The origins of the Thanksgiving dinner involve a bringing together of 90 Wampanoag men and 50 surviving English...

It was Sunday 9 November, which, as any calendar will confirm, is not October. And yet, there I was, in the dimly lit depths of The One Under Bar, attending what was proudly billed as an Oktoberfest Brunch . Since, naturally, when you think of German cultural tradition, you think of damp Scottish weather, golfers in lederhosen, and free Tennents lager at 11am. The event itself was an intimate affair — around fifty people squeezed into the low-ceilinged bar, tickets priced at £52, which, given...

A lyrical testimony of St Andrews’ long-esteemed tradition In my humble opinion, the tradition of Raisin in St Andrews is important and honourable. It is a trial which each of us must undertake. On any other day of the year, the actions carried out are ones to be ashamed of, but for one brilliantly debaucherous day a year, they are necessary and fundamental to the St Andrews experience. ‘Twas the morning of 19 October. I was snug in my bed, dead to the world, and dreaming about this week’s...