What are the places that never fail to leave you smiling?

Our writers share those special locations in Dundee and Angus that lift their spirits and rarely fail to drive away the blues.

Read on to discover if your favourite is on our list – and let us know in the comments if there is somewhere else you think we should cover.

Balgay Park in Dundee

Chosen by Feature Writer Poppy Watson.

As I write this, my nose has a Rudolph glow and my fingers are moving clumsily across the keyboard – still cold after my walk around Balgay Park.

I visit the green space, located at the end of my street in the south-west of Dundee, on my lunch break most days.

It’s a spot I like to think of as ‘mine’, which I often show off to my friends and family.

“Check out this viewpoint,” I will say halfway up Balgay Hill, as we look over the glistening River Tay.

Trying to sound clever, I might also remark on the historic Mills Observatory. “The council almost shut it down to save money last year, but thankfully it got some extra funding.”

It’s a bonus if I get to grab my companion’s arm at some point and exclaim, “Look! Squirrel!”

Each visit stirs up memories of a previous one.

That time my brother and I went for a run and nearly fell out after he refused to slow down.

The time my friend and I enjoyed a couple of non-alcoholic ciders and we couldn’t believe how they tasted almost like the real thing.

That time I interviewed Dundee binman Gary Robertson – who is also a poet and playwright – and he made me laugh with stories about performing on stage with his wife and daughter.

I’m not the only one who loves and appreciates Balgay Park.

There’s the running group I sometimes see on a Thursday night, the dog walkers who hurtle balls through the air, the students huddled on picnic blankets, the mums with prams, the couples holding hands.

But I still like to think of it as mine.

Camperdown Park

Chosen by Past Times Writer Graeme Strachan.

Looking for an antidote to the January blues?

A dose of nostalgia, fresh air and pirate ships should work wonders for the soul.

Camperdown Park was my favourite place to go when I was younger.

It still is.

I was among a generation of 80s kids who still bear the scars from the enormous pirate ships in the playground.

Two large flagships, six frigates and three half-sunk galleons in a sea of sand and scant safety features.

This was our Alton Towers.

The playground was named as Scotland’s best after opening in 1986.

The wooden ships were complemented by a boating lake and kiddie cars.

They were great fun.

Forget Pat Sharp and twin blond cheerleaders.

This was the Fun House grand prix on concrete against the elements.

Sadly the kiddie cars are no longer there although the track remains there today.

There was also the pitch and putt course.

And a zoo which was home to the Sugar Puffs bear.

Much has gone including those 1980s wooden ships which were a health and safety nightmare.

They were replaced by ship-shape modern structures and the play park remains as popular today as it was back in the day.

So does the zoo.

It’s still a great place to play and there’s a family-friendly walking trail.

Nostalgia for the past is part and parcel of getting older but the here and now is what makes Camperdown Park a happy place.

The wheel turns.

Now my kids are making their own memories here.

In the sand.

On the pirate ships.

At the zoo.

Running around on the grass.

I find great joy in watching them play.

The next generation of pirates have well and truly taken the baton.

Camperdown Park in 2025 remains the Fun House it was growing up in 1986.

No power prize but a great place for all the family.

Well worth a visit

Loch Brandy in Angus

Chosen by Feature Writer Gayle Ritchie.

Hidden high above Glen Clova, Loch Brandy is one of my favourites places.

It can be a dark, forbidding spot, surrounded as it is by steep cliffs and boasting a real sense of isolation.

It’s also one of the most stunning, dramatic and atmospheric places I’ve ever experienced.

I fell in love with the loch, which is about 2,000ft above sea level, when I moved to Angus in 2012.

The walk to reach it – a pretty steep one, but on a well-maintained path – begins behind the Glen Clova Hotel.

It’s nestled in a superb example of a mountain corrie, sheltered by steep, craggy slopes.

On a bright, windless day with the calm water holding reflections, it’s a special place to simply sit and stare.

But its waters – even in the heat of summer – can be utterly perishing. I’ve tried swimming in the loch a few times and always make a sharp exit.

There’s also the option of continuing up a precipitous path to the 2746ft summit of the Snub.

The views down into the abyss are absolutely worth it – but don’t stray too close to cliff edges as there’s the risk of landslips.

One of the highlights of a walk up to Loch Brandy is being able to grab a coffee (or a beer or wine) and a scone back down at the fantastic Glen Clova Hotel.

There’s always a warm welcome here, and there’s nothing better than cosying up in front of the roaring fire after an invigorating walk.

The Howff in Dundee

Chosen by Feature Writer Rebecca Baird.

I’m lucky that I spend most days in spitting distance of my happy place.

The Howff, Dundee’s historic cemetery, may have been grim ground in days gone by. But for me, it’s always been an oasis of peace amid the bustle of city life.

Something happens when you enter the black iron gates of the Howff. It’s as if a giant hand turns down the volume of the buses, the school kids and the passers-by.

The pressing quiet of trees and crows and decades of Dundee dead muffles all the human noise, leaving space to hear yourself think.

Amid the clusters of crumbling headstones, it’s hard to feel lonely – making this the perfect spot to be alone.

Dozens of names, dates and stories are carved into this place, and I’ve whiled away many hours inspecting the grave markers that remain legible through the years of moss and lichen.

But it is the life I’ve found in the Howff, rather than the death, which keeps me coming back.

Each spring, the small square is carpeted in the cheerful confetti of pink cherry blossoms, giving it more of a wedding feel than a funereal one.

I’ve met timid baby bunnies in the Howff, and bold butterflies who have joined me for a packed lunch on my favourite bench.

I’ve read books and phoned my mum and had a cry on that same bench.

It’s a lovely thing, to have a cemetery for a happy place.

Because it’s hard to believe, between the buds and the birds and butterflies, that it was built to hold so much sadness.