Farewell Scotland, Hello Ireland

Friday morning dawned windy and cold. It didn't improve as the day went on, although I'd come to expect the sun to come out.

At 10 we joined our host at the Royal Troon Golf club. And we got the Royal tour. Everything about it oozes history. Even the carpet is special. It has the club crest - 5 golf clubs encircled by a snake. The carpet is laid in the same direction everywhere, except in one place which of course, I forget. There are so many trophies including the Claret Jug on display in the many trophy cases.

We ended the tour with coffee and scones in a club room from which the view was of the 18th green. This is a true links course and we could see players trudging into the wind approaching the green. The speed of the greens is slower than on the well-manicured courses on most of the LPGA and PGA tours. Otherwise, the wind would make it impossible to ever make a putt, or possibly to even reach your ball before it was blown away. I was very impressed that people were golfing when it was so cold, windy and threatening rain. Apparently, the cold and wind don't deter the hardy Scots. This wimpy Canadian was happy not to have a tee time.

This lovely interlude was followed by last-minute packing and preparations for the return flight to Dublin. The drive to Glasgow was on great roadways, but driving along I noted that the ground was white. Snow!! 

There was an accident on the other side of the highway that slowed things down for a long way back. It looked like the car that caused the problem had had an engine fire. A number of firemen were gathered around the car but didn't seem to be doing much at that moment, other than continuing to impede traffic. Then again, we were just passing quite long after the initial event and I really have no notion of what actually happened.

Anyhow, we reached the airport where I said thank you and good-bye to my more-than-gracious and helpful hosts. Security procedures were pretty much as expected. What I didn't expect was the long winding walk to the departure gates through the duty-free stores. They seemed endless but eventually ended with an array of cafes, bookstores, etc. I had a look at the menu of one of the restaurants and nearly choked. A hamburger was £17. I don't care how delicious it might have been, any residual temptation vanished. 

The flight from Glasgow to Dublin was quite short and bumpy but unremarkable. I managed to get the hotel shuttle, retrieve my suitcase and get back in plenty of time for the Wexford Bus. 

Ann picked me up in Gorey and we headed back to the Rocktavern where I had a nice evening catching up with her family.