Madam's Last Strand

The Magical Mystery Tour continues, as we've made our way southwest to the north.  I've used that imagery before, as Ballyliffin is the northernmost golf club in Ireland, further north than any of the great links of Northern Ireland.  

We're settled into Portrush, a seaside holiday village that boasts one of the great golf courses of the world.  We're in Courtney Country, and Carol and Lowell are ensuring that we're quite well looked after.  

The view from the 1st tee doesn't suck.

But Royal Portrush must wait, as first we visit Portstewart's Strand Links, the neighboring village with a worthy links of its own.  I wrote in more depth about Portstewart here, and with time increasingly scarce will limit the repetition.  Suffice it to say that there might be a golf course (or at least the outbound nine) with more dramatic dunes, but you'll have to identify it for me.

The weather remains unbelievably beautiful, actually a bit problematic for us as we've of course brought all the wrong clothing.  Warm and dry is not what one expects in Eire, but with the exception of a few spritzes back in the Paleozoic era that Baltray now seems, it's all we've seen.  The purist in me craves a bit more wind, but we've had the luck of the....errrr.....well, it's what my sainted bride calls Scott Simpson weather.

The fifth hole, perhaps the best on the links, plays through two large dunes.

The fifth hole provided its typical amusement, as Madam found herself nestled against the larger of the dunes on the left.

Ever the gracious hosts, Lowell climbs the dune to provide the line.

And Madam responds with a cracker of a shot.

And lest it seem that I'm having a bit much fun with Madam, it was your humble correspondent in even worse position on our 2012 visit:

It was one of our better matches, as in its late stages we both showed good form, much to Lowell's amusement.  I managed to play the final six holes in one over, but simply couldn't shake the lady until the very end.  

Alas, the second straight sweep increases my lead to 13-8, though there is still much golf to be played.  

Porstewart features many shelters such as these that seem suitable for nuclear winter.  But with the weather we've enjoyed, it's hard to fathom that it can be quite nasty here at times.

Like many greens on the outbound nine, No. 8 is tucked into a smallish little dune.

I very much liked this 1909 photo in the clubhouse:

There's much more to talk about, but breakfast beckons...