Fore













The weekend following the trip to Spain for Fiberfib, with Anna away in the south of France, Jabs and I got an invite from Andy P to head up to Gleneagles, where he has been working this summer, to join him for a round of golf and a cheap stay at the hotel. Well, it seemed stupid to refuse, so we organised a fleeting trip up North for a bit of sport and luxury.

Of course it wasn't all easy as we had to make the 14 hour round trip over two days. Started with an early 6am wake up Saturday morning and getting to Kings Cross to make our 8am train up to Stirling - where Andy was to pick us up. Armed with a Frappuccino (my new vice) and an arm full of papers, we settled in for the long trip - which went surprisingly quickly, though we had our afternoon round to look forward to and take our minds off it.

Driving into Gleneagles itself, it is quite impressive. It has 3 and a half golf courses (the half being a 9-hole par 3 course) and the hotel is an impressive site. After much deliberation and discussion, we had decided to play the PGA Championship course - which hosted the Johnny Walker Championship only a month earlier (so it was in top nick) and is the venue for the Ryder Cup in 2014. To play on such a course was too much of an opportunity to miss. The Kings Course is a more classic Scottish Links Course and looked pretty good too - there is always next time!

Having not played golf in something like 2 years I was not only rusty but also a little unprepared. Luckily, Andy was able to set us up with all the goodies - the hire clubs (gratis) were brand new top-of-the-line Callaways (they replace their hire clubs every year!), balls, tees, etc, and a couple of carts to boot. He even managed to rustle up a foursome - Stewart, a Londoner he meet on a golf trip and who plays at Gleneagles often. The only thing Andy couldn't sort out was the weather, but more about that later.
So standing on the 1st tee, despite the beautiful views, there was some trepidation about the golf that was to come. Not only that, there was pressure on a little wager between Jabs and myself for a dram on Scotland's finest later that evening in the hotel. And to be honest, it was pretty rough over the first 9 holes. Though not helped by some sabotage from Jabs on the 2nd tee, timing his camera click with the top of my back swing. So after the front 9, and too many 3-putts than I want to remember, I had the unfortunate total of 54, just proving my rustiness and also the difficult of the course (you do not want to find the rough!). However, fortunately for my wallet (more of that later), Jabs was finding it just as difficult and I had a comfortable lead in our little match.

But things were about to make a turn for the better. Putting my tee shot on the par-3 10th, I pulled off what was a pretty impressive sand-save (if I do say so myself) and notched up my first par of the day. And this was just the start, as I then managed to give myself sinkable putts on the next two holes for birdies. Unfortunately, though I was finding some form tee-to-green, my putting was still lacking somewhat, but I still managed to pick up another two pars, making that 3 on the trot and even par through the back-9 at that stage.

But this wasn't to be our day. Scotland, like the rest of Britain, having not seen any rain for about a month, decided to try and make up for it in one late afternoon. We were determined to not let it get the better of us, and though getting thoroughly soaked, we played through another couple of holes, though the quality of golf was definitely slipping. However, it was on our 14th hole we decided we needed to let the weather win. Jabs, playing an approach shot into the green, had the club slip in his hand and managed to somehow thread the ball between Andy's face and the windscreen on the cart parked just to right of where he was playing his shot. It was hear that we decided that a couple of beers in the warm clubhouse sounded pretty good. Making the most of the facilities, we showered up and headed up to the bar, where we watched the rain suddenly let up and the last bit of sun come out! Though there was no way we could have continued as the course was quite water-logged.

So we hatched some plans for a curry in the town before heading back to the hotel for the receipt of my prize dram. It was our drams that caused us some shock later that evening as we settled in at the Hotel bar. Having recently purchased a bottle of Dalwhinnie for £25, we were somewhat surprised to find out that our dram of the same whiskey at the Hotel was a whopping £11.50. After some quick (and unnecessary) calculations we worked out they were making some mark-up.

The Hotel itself was impressive and wasn't lacking of much. Of course, I had to scare my room with this scary man, but apart from that, it was interesting to think that just a year ago, Tony, George W and the rest of the boys were lolling around the same place. Getting our slightly foggy heads out of bed the next morning, we didn't know that the best was still to come - the breakfast. There wasn't anything that was bad - the juice, the coffee, the fruit, the eggs, the Scottish flat bread, the sausages - but what really stood out was the black and haggis pudding. I should have smuggled half-a-dozen of each as I have been remincising ever since.

After a sizeable breakie, we used our last hour or so to have a wander around the impressive ground of the Hotel (in beautiful sunshine of course) - which include a hedge maze and a falconry.

We then had to jump back on the train that morning and arrived back in London on that Sunday evening. So a heady trip for a round of golf, but well worth it despite the weather. Was great to catch up with Andy again, who is in fine form and enjoying is time up north. I got a little bit of the golf-bug back and may even contemplate a return trip to get 18 holes next time.

For some more pics, click here.