Golfing In Scotland
Continuing on my Scotland theme for this week, I'd like to suggest to you golfers out there reading this that anybody can book a trip to Florida or Arizona to play golf as the weather turns chilly in the north, but it takes a really dedicated golfing stud to book a trip to Scotland right now with your clubs in tow. There won't be anybody on the courses except locals, the weather will absolutely howl all around you, and you'll have the time of your life if you don't freeze to death or get blown by a gale into the Firth of Forth.
I've golfed in Scotland a couple of times, and it's unlike any place in the world that I've ever played (and that includes a course in Egypt within sight of the pyramids, a Thai rice paddy and Spokane, Washington). I'd go back in a minute, although I'd bring considerably more layers of clothing next time.
You start out in Edinburgh and drive over to St. Andrews, hopefully in time to catch an afternoon round at the New Course (which was laid out by Old Tom Morris in 1895, making it older than anything we have here). Your chances of getting onto the Old Course are vastly improved now that all of the tour groups have left for the year, so you give that a try in the morning, after hitting the single-malt Scotch bar hard that night at the Old Course Hotel, a stately, elegant lodging on the 17th fairway.
Afterwards, you head north, stopping for rounds at Cruden Bay, a terrific seaside links course, and Brora, where sheep were grazing on the fairways when I played and the wind absolutely howled over a moonscape of sand dunes and "burns," or ditches. Take a side trip to the palatial Gleaneagles resort, with its wonderful Kings Course, if you need a luxe break, and then keep heading north, winding up at the Royal Dornoch Golf Club, another seaside links that dates back to 1877, was where Donald Ross learned course design, and is an absolutely stunning example of Scottish seaside golf. In the clubhouse sits a huge silver trophy that was donated by local boy Andrew Carnegie before he came to America and made a gazillion dollars.
There, doesn't that make you want to put away the shorts and polo shirts, pack your wool sweaters and play some rugged, fall golf? I sure do; I'd go back to Scotland in a heartbeat.
© 2007 CBS Interactive Inc.. All Rights Reserved. I've golfed in Scotland a couple of times, and it's unlike any place in the world that I've ever played (and that includes a course in Egypt within sight of the pyramids, a Thai rice paddy and Spokane, Washington). I'd go back in a minute, although I'd bring considerably more layers of clothing next time.
You start out in Edinburgh and drive over to St. Andrews, hopefully in time to catch an afternoon round at the New Course (which was laid out by Old Tom Morris in 1895, making it older than anything we have here). Your chances of getting onto the Old Course are vastly improved now that all of the tour groups have left for the year, so you give that a try in the morning, after hitting the single-malt Scotch bar hard that night at the Old Course Hotel, a stately, elegant lodging on the 17th fairway.
Afterwards, you head north, stopping for rounds at Cruden Bay, a terrific seaside links course, and Brora, where sheep were grazing on the fairways when I played and the wind absolutely howled over a moonscape of sand dunes and "burns," or ditches. Take a side trip to the palatial Gleaneagles resort, with its wonderful Kings Course, if you need a luxe break, and then keep heading north, winding up at the Royal Dornoch Golf Club, another seaside links that dates back to 1877, was where Donald Ross learned course design, and is an absolutely stunning example of Scottish seaside golf. In the clubhouse sits a huge silver trophy that was donated by local boy Andrew Carnegie before he came to America and made a gazillion dollars.
There, doesn't that make you want to put away the shorts and polo shirts, pack your wool sweaters and play some rugged, fall golf? I sure do; I'd go back to Scotland in a heartbeat.
