GOLF and gardens are not always good bedfellows. Even replaced divots can look unsightly in immaculate lawns, while shrubbery can be very reluctant to yield up lost balls.

But if golf's your passion and gardens are your wife's there can be no finer place to spend half a day than Powerscourt, 12 miles south of Dublin.

Beautifully situated on the edge of the Wicklow Hills, the 1,000-acre Powerscourt estate was taken over by the Slazenger family in 1961.

The famed gardens, dating back to the 1840s, have long been an attraction, but the family's desire to incorporate a golf course worthy of the setting did not come to fruition until 1996.

With further attractions such as a terrace restaurant, speciality shops, a house exhibition and children's play area, there's plenty here for all the family.

But it was the golf course which lured me back there last summer.

Having visited the gardens 12 years earlier, I knew it was a perfect setting and the views, with the conical peak of Sugarloaf in the background, had to be pretty spectacular.

Sod's Law, of course, is never far away, so on the day of my appointed round it was raining steadily. It was what the Irish call a nice, soft day.

And Sugarloaf was invisible in the murk.

All the more reason to concentrate on the course, and from the mounding, bunkering and imaginatively-shaped and tiered greens it soon became clear that a great deal of care and effort had gone into enhancing the terrain's substantial natural qualities.

The first four holes are set in parkland dominated by ancient oaks and beech trees, then a more open aspect prevails before a switch to something more akin to moorland on the back nine.

The trees are particularly imposing at the beautiful par five second as the fairway swings left round a bunker to a green guarded by more trees.

The landscape opens out from the tee at the par three fifth. Sugarloaf is said to be visible from here, but I wouldn't know about that.

A feature of the four par threes at this par 72 course is their elevated tees, and the outstanding hole is the 16th.

Measuring 150 yards from the standard tee, it features a lake, pot bunkers and a small target area set into a bank with a pine forest behind.

It is a stunningly beautiful hole, but there is no sense of anti-climax at the 530-yard 17th, which combines scenic beauty even on a dull day with a real challenge.

A lake guards the raised green, where an overhanging tree can result in a watery grave if you're slightly off-line.

Fairway bunkers dominate the last hole, with the palatial Georgian-style clubhouse in the background.

The green fee of £60 reflects the quality of a course where demand is sufficient for a second 18 holes to be planned in what promises to become a delightful golfing haven.

That sentiment could extend these days to the whole of County Wicklow, which boasts among its other relatively new courses the fabulous links known as The European, plus the former Irish Open venue, Druid's Glen.

Older seaside courses such as Blainroe and Wicklow remain a delight at very affordable prices, while in Ballykissangel country stands the beautiful course at Woodenbridge.

On my first visit to the deep, wooded Vale of Avoca 12 years ago the course was a nine-holer with a quaint wooden clubhouse adorned with photographs showing the flooding caused by Hurricane Charlie in 1986 and another hurricane 21 years earlier.

The fact that the rivers Avoca and Aughrim meet on the course provides a superb design feature, but it increases the susceptibility to flooding and it happened again with another hurricane on November 5 last year.

In the face of such adversity a remarkable transformation has taken place, with £500,000 spent on building nine more holes, opened in 1994, and almost £2m on an architecturally-splendid clubhouse, opened last June.

There has also been a £150,000 expenditure on flood defence - "otherwise we would have no course," said secretary Henry Crummie.

He adds that the £500,000 spent on turning the course into 18 holes was "a fantastic investment" and it has to be said that by modern standards the cost of what they have achieved looks like peanuts.

Even in such a remote location they have 650 members, and given the beauty of the setting, the quality of the course and the clubhouse, it is well worth a visit at £40.

Guests are made very welcome at this enchanting place, and when I remarked that it was nice that the good, old-fashioned Irish welcome still survived in such a modern clubhouse Mr Crummie swiftly countered: "And why wouldn't it?"

Proximity to Dublin tends to inflate green fees in Ireland and among the country's many great courses the best value tends to be found in the North-West in Sligo and Donegal.

A few miles south of Donegal town, in a sumptuous spot known as Murvagh, lies Donegal Golf Club, which hovers around 70th in Golf World's list of the top 100 courses in the British Isles.

Benefitting from typical Donegal scenery of sea inlets and mountains, the course stands on a peninsula cut off by a dense forest.

Formerly known as one of the longest courses in Europe at 7,160 yards off the back tees, it nevertheless offers a reasonably gentle start off the standard tees.

It begins to get tougher at the 190-yard par three fifth, known as the Valley of Tears, and you'll know why if you mishit your tee shot.

It is followed by a climb up the dunes to the sixth tee, where a glorious seascape opens out beyond.

The eighth, at 550 yards, is perhaps the most memorable hole as you fire uphill over a marker then discover after cresting the rise that a large crater lies in front of the green.

The ninth takes you back to the clubhouse before the second loop unfolds, with two more long par fives at 12 and 14.

After that two finishing par fours at under 400 yards seems a rather tame end.

But you can't fail to feel thoroughly stimulated by a round at Donegal.

The green fee is £30 and you'll get similar value at the other six members of West Coast Links - Connemara, Carne, Enniscrone, Co Sligo, Rosapenna and Ballyliffin.

They can all provide a fearsome test on a windy day and it was at Ballyliffin that I heard a clergyman say of his round: "I started badly then fell away."

At least in this part of the world spirits remain unfailingly high and the welcome remains unfailingly warm