From the moment I left the house for the airport, I was thinking back to the time I spent reading about North Berwick, St Andrews and Royal Dornoch (amongst many other famous Scottish golf destinations). Sitting in the car on the way to Pearson, I thought to myself “I get to tee it up there in 12 hours”. The nervousness and excitement were hard to shake.
The only real advice I had been given was to “sleep on the plane”. Great advice, so I grabbed a burger and a beer once I got to my gate, re-watched all the videos that had me dreaming about Scotland in the first-place years earlier, and tried everything I could to calm down and get ready for some sleep.
By the time I got in my seat on the plane though, I knew there was no chance I’d be sleeping. I spent the next 7 or so hours going shot-by-shot on as many holes at as many courses as I could remember, a golfer’s version of counting sheep.
By the time I got in my seat on the plane though, I knew there was no chance I’d be sleeping. I spent the next 7 or so hours going shot-by-shot on as many holes at as many courses as I could remember, a golfer’s version of counting sheep.
| And then, we landed |  |
After a slow taxi to the gate through the rain, the plane doors opened to a whistle of wind. I didn’t really know what time it was, but I knew I was in Scotland. Stepping into the terminal, a surge of anticipation eclipsed even the strongest cold brew. Suddenly, the sight of my golf bag sliding down the conveyor belt snapped me back - game time.
| | After a couple of quick and memorable stops / tours at Gullane Golf Club and Muirfield (I was glad to see as many of the great places we send our tours as possible), we headed to North Berwick. |
| I learned a good lesson on this first drive which was to look out the window as much as possible. We went from driving past farmhouses and through tiny one road towns to making one left turn, and there we were, pulling into a parking space next to the West Links at North Berwick. The courses are such a part of the towns, you hardly know they are there until you are right on top of them! |  |
That drive was a bit of a battle for me. In one way, I felt excited thinking “I might just shoot 75 at one of the most famous golf courses in the world”. In another way, I felt like a lamb being led to slaughter due to my lack of sleep on the journey over. It’s crazy to think those two things at once, but it might also explain what happened next.
 | Our 2:30pm tee time meant there was just enough time for a little jet lag to set in, and by the time I was elected to hit first, the jet lag and nervous energy was evident to everybody in town, if they were looking. Summoning some sort of confidence, I swung my driver only to watch in horror as the ball veered off course, aiming for an unsuspecting SUV parked nearby. If there’s a more unsettling feeling on a golf course, I hadn’t felt it yet nor since. Before I could even process what just happened, a Scottish voice whispered, “not sure you’ll find that one”. The voice belonged to Graham, my caddie, and true to his prediction, the ball remains elusive to this day. |
A quick re-load later (we called it a "jet lag ball" - Scottish golf trip version of a breakfast ball!!) and off we went.
The next 3 hours were a battle of attrition.
I got beat up, chewed up and spit out but what I realized amidst this thrashing, was that the battle makes the good shots feel so much better. The fleeting moments when you transcend mechanics and savour the vistas make it all worth it. Different from golf at home, where sometimes it feels like you should hit a good shot when sitting in the middle of the fairway. It was my first experience on a links golf course, an initiation into the essence of Scottish golf.
| The following day, we headed north for St Andrews. The 2-hour drive gave me some time to doze off and fight the jetlag in preparation for an afternoon in the elements. |  |
Set to play the New Course, we had our eyes on the forecast all morning and it didn’t look too promising. After a quick bacon roll and a stroll through the middle of the 18th fairway on the Old Course, we found ourselves on the first tee of the New.
No matter how worried you are about some rain and wind, it’s amazing how quickly that worry melts away when you’re looking at a fairway with bright yellow gorse bushes left and right. Your only worry becomes making it to the first green without losing a sleeve of Titleists. Flashbacks of the day before filled my mind as I walked up to the tee blocks, but this time I managed to find the fairway. 3 hours later we finished, one of us in better shape than the other, hands hardly able to feel the grip anymore.
| The hands warmed up quickly though when I took my phone out to see a text from The St Andrews Links Trust. Having entered the Old Course singles ballot just before play at the New Course, I opened my phone to see.... |  |
That was all I needed to see and needless to say, it took way less than 7 hours to confirm!!!
I was going to be playing the Old Course the following day at 7:40am. I’m not sure I’ve gotten a better text before or since. As we finished up on the New at around 5:00, I now had the next 14 or so hours to get ready for what would be one of the most special rounds I may ever play.
Again, my focus turned to getting some sleep and again, I failed spectacularly. I skipped breakfast, and decided to head down to the first tee and take in as much as I could.
From the first tee shot to the second shot on the last, it feels like playing golf on a museum. There’s a story for every hole, every bunker, even every little mound or undulation.
| I may not have gotten of to the best start (a bit of a tug on the first tee ball - not OB though!) and a pitch out then approach shot later, I was on the green and off on the golf adventure of a lifetime. (BTW, video courtesy of Ron who sat in the room all morning because it was "too rainy and cold " - really!?!?) | |
 | Between trying to string a few good swings together, the stories were pouring out of my caddie Kenny, and I was all ears. We trekked through the soaked and wind-swept fairways, more focused on sharing stories of the course and town than whether a putt broke left or right. That’s just what I needed that day. After shaking hands with Kenny in the shadow of the R&A Clubhouse, I walked back to the hotel. |
| Once I managed to warm up and find a seat in the room, I looked out over the 18th fairway now lit up by blue skies. I could hardly comprehend what had just happened. |  |
To make that feeling even stronger, we walked down the street to the famous pub at The Dunvegan Hotel. As you walk in, you're met with portraits lining the walls and ceilings. Pictures of all the greats who have come there to enjoy a pint after traversing the hallowed grounds of the Old Course.
From Tiger and Freddy Couples to a young curly haired Rory McIlroy, you quickly realise that the magic of the links at St Andrews have made their way into every nook and cranny of the town. With my neck craned looking at all the photos, I enjoyed a Tennent's while thinking to myself “I can’t believe I’m really here”. There turned out to be many of those moments on this trip.
Later, after a whisky or 2, dinner, and a drink in the bar at The Rusacks, which overlooks the Old Course, I settled down for the night by replaying the round in my head. I think I made it to the tee on the 9th before falling into a well-earned, deep sleep.
The next day marked the beginning of my 3-day journey through Ayrshire, on the West Coast of Scotland. Nothing in Scotland really compares to St Andrews, but Ayrshire is a region in Scotland that every golfer should see.
Within a 45 minutes’ drive of our hotel lie 4 world-class links: Royal Troon, Prestwick, Western Gailes, and Turnberry. It’s hard to comprehend the quality of golf in such a proximity. Three Open championship venues, with Royal Troon hosting the next later this year.
After exploring Ayrshire, we made our way up to the Scottish Highlands for Scottish Golf Tourism Week. It was then over the course of the 40+ scheduled meetings that I learned first class hospitality of the Scottish people. Oh, and we even got a round in at Cabot Highlands (Castle Stuart) as the conference golf event!!.
As one of the younger attendees at the conference, it was easy to imagine being left on the outside looking in at times. I couldn’t have been more wrong. We are lucky in the travel industry to work amongst a generally happy and passionate group of people, but the Scots take it to another level.
From welcoming drams of highland whisky to conversation as if you had known the person for years, everything was very easy. If not to return for the golf, you could make a strong argument about returning simply for the company.
After saying goodbye to the many friendly faces met over the week, we continued our journey north to Dornoch. Looking out the window, I was met with a landscape I didn’t even know existed in the British Isles. Snow-capped mountains look down on you as you weave through tiny highway roads, trucks barrelling past you as if you aren’t even there.
 | Soon, you reach Dornoch. On this day, it felt like a sleepy town. There weren’t many people about as rain and wind filled the forecast, but we had places to be. Again, I had to remind myself not to look down for too long. One turn and there we were, overlooking the first hole at Royal Dornoch. Look at any Top-100 list there is, and Royal Dornoch will be somewhere in the top-15 scattered amongst the likes of Pine Valley, Royal County Down and Augusta National. |
Like North Berwick and The Old Course, I had been watching videos about this golf course for years. I felt like I could walk anyone through half the holes, and I hadn’t even played it. Now was my chance.
Having now been in Scotland for over a week, my golf swing had begun to deteriorate to a point I hadn’t seen in years. I was genuinely frightened over the ball unless I had a lofted club in my hands. Thankfully, the first hole played only 300 yards for us as a par 4. We also had the help of 60km wind at our backs, so 8-iron was an easy decision. I slapped it up the fairway and was met with a nice easy wedge into the green.
At this point, I was desperate for an easy par. Hit solidly, I stared the ball down thinking this could be the day I can post a score I'm proud of. As the ball came down towards the ground my ears were filled with a strong gust of wind, and I recalled the 60km wind that we had discussed back on the tee. The ball made a loud noise as it bounced on the firm green, and then disappeared over the back, and the way I was chipping, automatic bogey.
I investigated the yardage book to try and figure out what lay ahead for my next shot, but instead was drawn to a short message left on the page of each hole. On this page it read, “Choose now to take one step at a time and enjoy what that step holds”. Before reading that message, I was dreading my next shot, thinking about where I should’ve hit it and how dumb I was to forget about wind while playing in Scotland. After reading it, I realized how that frame of thinking got me exactly where I was, behind the green thinking about how to not make double.
| | I wish I could say I went on to birdie the next 4 holes, but I didn’t. I struggled with my game just as much as the days before, but it woke me up in a sense. There was no more dread no matter how ugly my lie was or impossible the shots became. I felt a huge sense of gratitude to again be walking on such hallowed grounds. It allowed me to disconnect my game from my opinion of each hole. I reflect on this round being my favourite of the trip. I hit some good ones, mostly bad, but I can remember every hole distinctly and to me that’s the best metric to measure the quality of a course. I look back on Royal Dornoch and consider it the best golf course I’ve ever played. |
For the final leg of the journey, we descended the East Coast of Scotland back through the Highlands and into Fife on our way to Edinburgh for our flight home. We did manage to leave enough time to visit Kingsbarns on their opening day for our last round of the trip. I heard from many who visited before me that Kingsbarns was their favourite course in the country. I had seen it on TV before during the Dunhill Links Championship and was pretty excited about getting to tee it up there myself. With the finish line in sight, I felt like a marathon runner being carried across the finish line. In this instance I was being carried by my caddie, Doug (and as you can see, some carrying was required!).
| Doug’s story is an interesting one, as he started the nearby Kingsbarns distillery. Through his stories like following Tiger in a practice round in 2000 at The Old Course, caddying many times in the Dunhill and his passion for spirits and beers, the conversation is what kept my head up, although the views helped a bit as well. The par 3 15th hole is one tee shot I won’t soon forget, and with the weather finally cooperating, it made for one of the most beautiful rounds of the trip. |  |
Tee Shot on 15
On the 18th hole we tapped in for pars under a Scottish rainbow, a fitting ending as we had reached the end of the rainbow that was our tour of Scotland. An Edinburgh Airport hotel became our next destination.
Arriving at the airport hotel, fatigue weighed heavy, but I was buzzing with memories of fairways, bunkers, and the camaraderie shared with newfound friends and seasoned caddies.
 | Over the coming months, our groups will be landing at the same airport to embark on their own golf adventures. Knowing our clients would soon enjoy Scotland filled me with envy for the memories they were about to make. As my journey ended, like any golfer would, I eagerly looked forward to planning the next one. |
Until Next Time!!!
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