In case you were wondering, I was in Scotland last week. Can you imagine anything more ridiculous than going there for a holiday and leaving the clubs behind? It was a family holiday, as everyone kept reminding me, so we all had to make sacrifices. Unfortunately a set of clubs is not easily hidden so you can?t suddenly say as you open your suitcase, ?Gosh, what?s a full set of golf clubs doing here? Did you pack them, darling? If I did, inadvertently, I?m terribly sorry. I didn?t mean to bring them, honestly. They must have somehow got mixed up with the socks. Oh, forgive me. Still, having brought them all this way it would be ridiculous not to ? etc., etc.?
Well, I survived the whole week with my family and without my clubs. There were a couple of difficult moments. My fingers starting twitching when the sleeper train taking us up there ran alongside an attractive looking golf course and I was shocked to note that the same fingers were wrapped around the Scotrail cutlery in what was a very close approximation to the Harry Vardon grip.
And I hallucinated once or twice. It happens to me a lot on my travels. When looking across open countryside I start designing a golf course. It usually begins with an area that resembles a big bowl, which could easily convert into the 18th green. From there I go back 460 yards to where the tee should be. And there you have it ? one of the finest finishing holes in the country.
Next comes the clubhouse affording glorious views to the far horizon. The bar extends pretty well the whole length of the building and the prices are pretty keen as well. Given that the 9th has to take you back to the clubhouse, it?s astonishing how quickly the other 16 holes fall into place. There are dozens of Agran-designed courses scattered across the inner recesses of my brain, several of which are of true championship standard.
The Scottish scenery is simply spectacular. Driving, which I normally loathe, is genuinely enjoyable in a hired motor that weaves through the Highlands like they do in the car commercials. The people are lovely, although it?s a shame they don?t speak English. Despite the fact that April is not the warmest of months at least there are no midges, which can be maddening in August. If science can create a golf club that can hit the ball over 300 yards, why hasn?t it figured out how to eliminate this scourge? In future, rather than design yet more great golf courses, I shall apply my mind to the problem.