Woke up dead early today buzzing like a kid at Christmas. Couldn’t sleep proper knowing I’d finally tee off at North Berwick. Grabbed my clubs, shoved down some toast, and drove like a bat outta hell towards the coast. That salty sea air hit me the second I stepped outta the car – proper links golf atmosphere right there.
The Warm-Up Faff
- Practice Green Shenanigans: Tried putting first thing. Grass felt faster than my aunt’s gossip. Took ages to stop leaving everything short or blasting it miles past. Embarrassing.
- Driving Range Drama: Wind was already howling sideways. My shots? Dodgier than a three-pound note. Half topped, half hooked. Prayed nobody was watching.
Front Nine Rollercoaster
First tee shot nearly ended up in someone’s garden. Heart in me mouth! Settled down by the 3rd – smashed a 7-iron pin-high. Felt like a god for five whole minutes. Then came the burn on the 6th. Tried to be clever, laid up short. Still dunked it straight in. Water’s a magnet for my ball, swear down. Ended the front nine with a messy double. Classic me.
That Bloody 17th Hole
Now, the famous Redan hole. Looked simple enough from the tee. Green’s hidden behind a massive bunker, all slopes and tricks. Hit what I thought was a perfect 6-iron. Ball landed sweet… then vanished. Walked up fearing the worst. Yep. Wedged deep in the sodding bunker at the front. Could barely see the flag!
Took three whacks just to escape. Ended up with a triple bogey. Wanted to chuck my wedge into the Firth of Forth right then.
Still. Standing there afterwards? All rage vanished. Sun dipping low, waves crashing – pure magic. Forgot the scorecard instantly.
Dragging Myself Off the 18th
Last hole was therapy. Smashed a driver downwind, wedged close, and actually holed the putt. Finished with a grin. Washed it down with a pint of some dark Scottish ale in the clubhouse later. Felt every bruise from them bunkers – worth every ache.
So yeah, North Berwick kicked my backside raw. But walking off? Already planning how to save up to get battered by it again next year. Some courses just stick in your bones. This one’s clawed right in deep.
