There’s something about that late afternoon shuffle through Pearson that brings a mix of anticipation and nerves. At Golf Away Tours, it signals one thing: a journey across the Atlantic, back to the home of golf. I was Scotland-bound once again, and though the excitement was still there, it was layered with something deeper—a quiet comfortability. This was my second pilgrimage to Scotland, and this time, the worries of the unknown had given way to a feeling of ease, like standing on the first tee of your home course.
I knew what to expect now: the bite of the Scottish wind, the taste of a hot meal after a cold round, and the faces I’d come to recognize from my first trip back in March. My memories of travel are usually tied to landscapes, weather, or places that contrast home. And Scotland has all of that- the scenery, the skies that change faster than your mood, and a seemingly never-ending supply of ancient beauty. But Scotland had something more: a sense of homecoming.
It’s not just the land or the history, though both are incredible. It’s the warmth of the people and their welcome, especially if you’re there for the love of the game. In Scotland, golf isn’t a pastime; it’s woven into the soil, and that shared love for the sport binds people together, visitors and locals alike. On each tee box, and with each greenside chat it felt like stepping into a community I belonged to. When I left Scotland the first time, I felt a fullness I hadn’t expected from a place I’d never been before. And now, boarding that flight again, I was excited to say the least.
After another bleary-eyed and sleepless flight, we headed straight for Ayrshire, aiming to shake off the fog with a round at Dundonald. The host of this year’s Women’s Scottish Open, Dundonald has been rising in the ranks, a name that gets tossed around more and more when people talk about the golf gems tucked away in the Southwest of Scotland. We battled through the full spectrum of Scottish weather- rain that comes in sideways, but just enough sunshine to keep you going. Jet lag clung to us making each swing feel a bit heavier, but by the end of the round the exhaustion felt earned. That night, I drifted off to sleep overlooking the fairways of Royal Troon at the Marine Troon Hotel.
It’s not just the land or the history, though both are incredible. It’s the warmth of the people and their welcome, especially if you’re there for the love of the game. In Scotland, golf isn’t a pastime; it’s woven into the soil, and that shared love for the sport binds people together, visitors and locals alike. On each tee box, and with each greenside chat it felt like stepping into a community I belonged to. When I left Scotland the first time, I felt a fullness I hadn’t expected from a place I’d never been before. And now, boarding that flight again, I was excited to say the least.
After another bleary-eyed and sleepless flight, we headed straight for Ayrshire, aiming to shake off the fog with a round at Dundonald. The host of this year’s Women’s Scottish Open, Dundonald has been rising in the ranks, a name that gets tossed around more and more when people talk about the golf gems tucked away in the Southwest of Scotland. We battled through the full spectrum of Scottish weather- rain that comes in sideways, but just enough sunshine to keep you going. Jet lag clung to us making each swing feel a bit heavier, but by the end of the round the exhaustion felt earned. That night, I drifted off to sleep overlooking the fairways of Royal Troon at the Marine Troon Hotel.
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The next morning, we teed it up at Prestwick, the birthplace of the Open Championship. Rain clouds loomed in the distance, but for what felt like the first time in Scotland, the golf gods were looking down on us. The wind was a constant adversary, but the rain held off, as if to let us fully appreciate the quirkiness of Prestwick’s design. By the end, the jet lag still hadn’t fully faded, but I felt like we’d been given a rare gift: a dry day on one of Scotland’s most storied links.
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Our journey through Southwest Scotland brought us next to the gates of Trump Turnberry. Say what you will about the politics, but there’s no denying he knows how to build a resort. The place oozes elegance, an opulence that’s simply hard to look past. That night, the first of many receptions for Elevate Golf 2024 filled the ballroom. I found myself in conversations with peers from all corners of the globe, swapping stories about golf, travel, and just about every other topic that could possibly surface. The next morning, we were met again with good weather- mild temperatures and just enough breeze to keep you on your toes. Standing on the first tee at Turnberry, under a blue morning sky, it’s hard not to feel the weight of where you are. A round at Turnberry, with conditions this perfect is the kind of experience that not many get. The course, the ocean views- all of it came together and by the time I walked off the 18th, I’d shot a career-low 77.
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| Then came the drive across Scotland to St Andrews, and I can’t remember the last time I was so eager to spend three hours in a car. And when we finally arrived, there it was- the sight every golfer dreams of: parking along the 18th at the Old Course and walking into the storied Rusacks Hotel. A walk along the 18th fairway that evening to dinner helped to bring home the gravity of where we were, the Home of Golf. We enjoyed dinner at the beautiful Hotel Du Vin just off the 1st tee at the Old Course, where we shared great food and chatted about the round to come tomorrow. Jean Van de Velde. 1999. Carnoustie. Just those three phrases are enough to send a chill down the spine of any golf fan with even a passing knowledge of major championship history. It’s the scene of perhaps the greatest collapse in sports. That Sunday in 1999, Carnoustie showed why it’s earned its brutal reputation, why they call it “Car-nasty.” It’s a place that can crush the world’s best, with a big number waiting after one poor swing. What would it do to me? Visions of the ball that nearly took with it a license plate on the first tee at St Andrews flooded my mind. Again, nerves were overcome by excitement and I was able to truly soak in the experience that was my round at Carnoustie. It skyrocketed up my personal rankings. |   |
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| The next two days were packed with meetings at The Old Course Hotel, where I had the chance to sit down face-to-face with key suppliers from across the industry. Building these relationships matters- it’s the groundwork that allows us to secure top-notch experiences for our clients. Here, drinks are shared but surely connections are strengthened, all to make sure we’re delivering the best in golf travel. As our last day of meetings wrapped up, we took a walk over to the Old Course Pavilion, just a driver and a 9-iron from the hotel. For the second time, I tossed my name into the singles ballot, more a requirement when in St Andrews than out of hope, assuming lightning wouldn’t strike twice. But then—I received the text. The same number. Chosen again, this time for the first tee time at 8:00 a.m. I’d told myself I wouldn’t make a fuss after the week I just had, and wouldn't let it phase me if I got lucky again. But standing there with my phone in my hand, I couldn’t help it. Excitement crept in, as if it were my first time all over again. |  |
| This time, though, I wanted it to be me and the course. First off, no caddie. Just a yardage book and my memory. With perfect weather on my side and the fairways stretching out on a quiet St Andrews morning, I played my own game, soaking in every moment. It was a round that felt personal and unhurried, like I had golf's most hallowed grounds all to myself. A “Cri- Pie” at the long standing St Andrews staple, The Criterion, was the perfect meal to cap it off. A day I’ll never forget. | |
There’s a thrill in visiting a new place for the first time- finally seeing with your own eyes what you’ve only heard stories about. But there’s something just as meaningful in returning to a place that is special to you and getting to know it in a deeper way each time. Nothing will ever match that first walk through St Andrews or the moment when links golf finally clicks and feels right but yet that’s what makes each return so special. Visiting Scotland in many ways is like layering new memories over the old, giving you the chance to play golf and walk the grounds that many of the most famous in the game have walked for hundreds of years.
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