Which One is Better?

 [Ed. note: I did not come to Scotland to blog.  Sorry.]

The trip organizer has seemed to have done a pretty good job -- all 8 here seem to be thinking they are having the time of their lives.  For those of you not familiar, golf is rather addictive, and what we've been through the last 3 days has not been for the faint of heart.  

Here is today on the 12th hole. I really hope you canna see where it goes :)

I thought I had a decent day today, but my score didn't reflect it. 

But the point of the video is the conditions: and that was GOOD part of the weather!!!!  As Db says on the video (he's the only one taking them, to share, anyway), it's Dundonald #12.  

Each of the last three days for several holes we have been pissed on sideways, to the point of stinging like sleet.  Heck, it might have been sleet! 

But we've all agreed we don't much care -- the golf courses have been incredible! The west coast of Scotland be praised, and we didn't play a couple biggies (some later).  

I will try to keep the "golf shop talk" down to a minimum, but yesterday we played Prestwick, which was the home of the first 12? (don't quote me) British Opens.  Back then it only had 12 holes.  They haven't been back since the 1930s -- there's some question as the to the conformity of the "new" (you know, a hundred yearrs) holes.  

There was voiced trepidation among the group about whether this was going to be a dud.  Prestwick is famous for its gimmicks -- the par 3 4th hole is a blind shot, hit over a dune with boards holding it up and some boards painted a certain color.  The color indicates where the pin is each day.  RR, without knowing it at the time, almost made a hole in one there.  :). Blind is his best game. :). The 17th hole plays to a wide-enough fairway and then are confronted with another dune and behind it is the largest bunker on the course (60 feet wide, 40 feet deep) guarding the green.  Amazingly, none of us were in it. 

To us, the memorable part were some of the new holes along the seaside ridge where we suddenly encountered a driving rainstorm.   How bad was it, you ask?  I had on a short-sleeve rain slicker and in no time my sleeves were wet.  I got out my long-sleeve slicker, and rather than getting drenched switching, I put it on over the other. :) But the wind was blowing it straight out so I had trouble getting my hands in it and my caddie, Jim, had to help me get it on.  Sheesh!!!!

That only lasted a few shots.  Then we got a wee bit more later.  But ended in the dry. 

My caddies are a highlight.  Jim, who claimed to have been caddying for 52 years, was from Ayr, which is the largest city on this coast and just south from Prestwick (Troon, where we are staying, is north).  I could barely understand him (this is a theme) and he walked with one stiff leg.  He didn't carry my bag, but had it on a trolley (Am: pull cart).  He wasn't a chatter, but a restricted teacher.  "Ya gotta go through the ball, Stevie, you are stoppin."  At one point I told him I was trying to hit a punch shot and he said, "that's nae good, Stevie, no power if you don't go through it."  I missed it, but he was giving Vlad tips throughout the round (you know, the guy who WASN'T paying him!) The one thing he did do was confirm that the Red Lion, a pub practically across the street, was the historical place to go.

So that is where we ate.  It was decent pub food. Here's the highlight, the steak pie --

Everyone loved the course; some were saying it was like 2nd on the list (everyone seems to be keeping a list, but Royal Dornoch and Royal Troon [the Royals know something] seem to be 1-2 on most everyone's list. 

B and Z beat KG and RR in euchre and there was a lot of going to bed early.  We had an "early" tee time -- not the first of the day it turned out, but close.  KG and I sat up for a short while have a face-to-face for the first time since February (see blog).  K said she'd like to be a fly on the wall and I texted back "you ask too many questions."  Even she thought that was funny. :)

So today was an 850 tee time and we left the house almost promptly at 730.  We stopped on the way at Gregg, which is a fast food bakery.  I had the bacon and omelette roll, forgetting that bacon here isn't our bacon. ):  Many sausage rolls (a whole different culinary adventure) were eaten. 

My caddie today was shy.  He came up to me on the practice putting green (as I write this, I see how ironic it is given the way I putted today) and asked if "we" were the 850.  He ended up carrying my bag to the first tee and caddying for me. 

Gary was a slender guy probably in his early 30s.  He's solo, which he must have said six times during the round. He's also the caddiemaster here, but was looping on his day off "to stay in shape."  (I'm sure the £170 he pulled off my group didn't hurt, either :).  When he said his name, I had to have him repeat (a la Robert two days before) because all I heard was garble.  He then fired off one of his better one liners of the day, which he repeated at least four times, "we're still learning how to speak English here in Scotland." :)

I know about Gary's broken relationship with a French girl who he spent 6 years in France with. I know Gary has been to America lots of time, sometimes for extended periods.  I know his favorite NFL team is the Cowboys.  I know he likes Thanksgiving and particularly pumpkin pie.  He gave no instruction. :) WTF :)

If you don't get it, Gary talked. A LOT.  The word incessantly is appropriate here. :). But he was a good guy, kind of funny, and helpful as he could be.  At the fifth green, after today's sleet-in-your-face storm, he trotted off the clubhouse and got us all towels to dry off.  I can't imagine how wet those were at by the time we finished.  

He also got us reservations at the best Indian place in town.  It was the bomb.  I think the dish G-man and RR (competitive eaters, both) got -- the mixed grill. 

The food was excellent.  

Db was sitting on the end of the table, next to a two-top pinned against the wall. And I used the word "pinned" to make a point.  

They were a local couple.  He worked for local government.  When we sat down we said "we're sorry for what you are about to witness ahead of time" and she said "I'm broad minded."  I said "I hope you have a broad vocabulary."  I think the F-bomb flew just once in their hearing...which should be seen as a win. 

After much "banter," (words leave me how to describe Db's constant talking to them) I leaned over and said "you really don't get out much" and he repeated it to them.  The guy says, quick as a wink, "that's probably best for society."  It killed us all, including Db. 😂😂😂 

And now we're packing for Northern Ireland.  We are staying close to the Bushmill's distillery, which seems like a poor decision on the travel arranger's part, but there it is.  

The Texans are jumping in a car as quickly as they can and heading to Portrush for a round (from Belfast, how's your NI geography?), while the olds visit the Belfast sites and try to not be the victims of firing bombing.  Hey!  It happened in the spring....🤷

As to the question of the title, there was some discussion, I think I started it on purpose, about it for dinner.  It was agreed if Dundonald today was the worst course of the 8 we play together, it's going to be the most awesome trip.  And I really, liked Dundonald; Db and I agreed it reminded us of West Lancs, though it had the improvement I didn't get locked in the dark in the bathroom for an hour. :)

If your talking best courses, we visited another candidate after pints this afternoon.  It was a long drive (40 minutes) from Dundonald to Turnberry, but we thought it was worth it.  The rock (Ailsa; which I didn't get a picture of) is spectacular and so is the hotel there. 

ICYMI that' s RR, who is now affectionately, or not, 😂 known as Patches.  Please don't ask me to explain it (it comes from his first name).  In the car yesterday, B kept asking him if he knew the song Patches O'Houlihan and he said no, so B played it on his phone.  A real weiner of a song. ):

Anyway, "Patches" (I know people hate it when I change names in mid-blog series, but who knew when we started?) is leading our tournament.  He won again today.  In 6 days he's won at least 4 times.  I have finished last 4 times.  The grumbling among the lower handicappers in the group has been kinda funny.  But Patches keeps pointing out they made and the rules and the fact he's playing almost to his handicap when no one else has isn't his fault. :).  I will keep you informed as we progress -- the 7th round is Monday and Tuesday (we split up...I'll explain in next blog) and the last round is seeded.  It seems likely Patches and I will play as a team and we'll see if he pulls me up or I pull him down.  

And, for travel agent news: I thought I had bought every sporting equipment and a checked bag for tomorrow's flight from Glasgow to Belfast.  Turns out I got the sporting equipment, but not the checked bag!!!  Everyone has a bag that needs checked.  I think it'll be okay, but helping B, who is about one step from a Luddite (the Texans are still amazed he doesn't have an ATM card; it's been source of much ribbing), and figuring out whether Patches is coming with us (I spelled his first name wrong when I booked online and Aer Lingus said all they could do was cancel him and book him separately.  Geez, why? so he has a separate six-digit code.  I found it in a text from AL and we're good now. Except he doesn't have a checked bag, OC.  

The headaches of the travel arranger. 

And on that note I bid you slan!

It's Nae Wind, Lad!

 Hi everyone,

Today we had a day.   OC, you might have noticed that we think we've had a shit ton of days.  :). I will start with today and, if I had the time and energy, will follow up with yesterday (don't count on it, Db :)).

[Ed. note: there was discussion yesterday about the length of the last blog. 😂  Db conceded a) he laughed about him not reading, b) he really didn't read it all in one setting 😂   And RR admitted he had to have two sittings for it, too. 😂   It was like being back in the classroom 😂 ]

We are now in Troon.  To help you who are Scottish geography challenged, it is on the southwest coast, on the Firth (Db's favorite word...well, his favorite British word is NSFW, so...) of Clyde, an hour southwest of Glasgow, the largest city in Scotland.  It is a seaside vacation town.  

Our Vrbo (I switched apps because, believe it or not, the place was on Airbnb AND Vrbo but less on Vrbo 🤷) is on the seafront and our host claimed yesterday during the walk through that you could see the first tee of the course we played today from the upstairs front bedroom windows.  Maybe.  But we're close.  It's a fabulous place and I'll share a couple of the better pictures later. 

We played Royal Troon today.  They have hosted like 10 British Opens, going back to 1923, and they have a replica of the Claret Jug (the famous trophy for winning the Open) in the foyer -- which is quite grand. 

But their dining room wasn't open until 830 and we were there at 745 for our 910 tee times.  Hazel, the pro shop desk person, told us to go next door to the hotel.  I asked the shortest route and she sent us down a path through a gate in a brick wall on to their back terrace.  The hotel, The Marine, is owned by the Mannings.  Bought 5 years ago.  Breakfast was Continental and you got a hot dish if you wanted.  Pictures of the pancakes below.

You kinda need/want to know that the wind was howling when we got here around 6 last evening, blew through the night (in my room it sounded like Kansas in Wizard of Oz :)) and blew when we got up and made the 2 minute drive to the course.  We all talked about how many layers -- RR wore 6!   (He also had the best day golfing, relatively speaking, so it might be something).  I wore two, then my cashmere and was fine till we walked out of the clubhouse onto the putting green and the seaside was even fiercer.  I put my rain slicker on and that was good for the day.  We were all aware it might rain, too. 

The course does the classic links thing of running six holes away from the clubhouse.  In this case, with a 30 mph wind off the sea to our right.  I knew from the get-go it was no slouch -- there was no "handshake" opener.  ):  

At seven we turned inland -- one of the only 2 holes downwind all day.  Then we turned back at into the wind for the most famous hole -- the par 3 postage stamp.  It looked big today but it was way too hard!!! 😡.   We took a picture with it in the background --

I don't have a picture that depicts the wind.  It was the worst wind any of us had every played in, and our caddies all said it was the wind of the season.  When we turned back toward the clubhouse at 13, the wind was off the left and you couldn't keep the ball on the fairway!!!  G-man claimed he had one shot go 100 yards from left to right.  

The last 6 holes are the longest end stretch in the Open rotation.  My caddie told me this wasn't the prevailing wind -- it normally came straight from the clubhouse in your face. 

Now, today's caddie.  His name was...err, err.   He was from Prestwick, the next town down the coast, and I kept trying to repeat his name and call him "Grummond."  Whatever the F kind of name that would be. 🤷 In the end, he had to spell it for me:  R-o-b-e-r-t.  B, who was my partner today, agreed he was hard to understand.  

We got on famously.  62 and he's been caddying 50 years.  He was full of wisdom like "your health is your wealth, Steve" and "enjoy the day, you're on vacation."  We had a modestly lengthy discussion of the positives of an illegal substance here, which said wasn't hard to obtain (wink wink) and drinking, and another on Amsterdam, which made him pretty rapturous.  my having said that was our last stop on this trip.  I heard bits about it, too. :).  I liked him a lot obviously because he thought my ordinary quips were funny and he was good at caddying.  The other group had a terrible caddying experience.  ):

For my English professor friends, Vlad's caddy (I played with him and Db) told him that the course was like a reverse Dante's Inferno: you start the first 6 holes in heaven, the second is ok, and the last 6 is hell.  The analogy worked for us all today.  :)

Robert also helped out for tomorrow night by recommending his local pub, the Red Lion, in Prestwick for dinner.  Originally, Db had a reservation at the place we ate tonight (we didn't communicate our choices with each other), so he was looking for an alternative. Db loves pub grub and we haven't really done that yet.  So lucky him.  It is a short walk from Prestwick clubhouse, where we play tomorrow at 1110, so pub food around 5 will be perfect. 

We had early reservations so only had a few (or 5) drinks before leaving.  Before you get all mom on us, I drove home and to the restaurant and back, having zero drinks. 

Db and I have a bet going on who is in the fewest traps for the week.  We started today 23-8 (if not quite right, he'll correct me) and he hit a shot into one on the second hole (?) and took 3 to get out. :) (not to be mean, but he'll be okay with that).  I was in only one for day coming to 16.  I hit what I thought was a pretty good shot, left of the big mouth of a bunker in the middle of my line to the pin.  As we walked up, Robert said "I think it may have gone into the bunker."  I couldn't see it from where we were! ):  But we walk up and get to where we could see the bunker and there was a ball just outside of it.  Robert and I were happy and then B stepped over and said 'that's mine, there's one in the bunker."  F***! to quote RR. 

I had to play out sideways and did so.  But was behind the next bunker.  I had to play my "Scottish wedge", which has "Heekle" printed on it (longish story.  FYI, Robert kept called it "Heckle" 😂😂😂

I dumped the Heekle shot into the bunker 10 yards in front of me and proceeded to take 3 to get out. 😡😡😡
I then hit what I thought was a good shot on the next hole, just skirting the mouth on the right side, only to find there was another bunker behind it.  Repeat orange faced emoji.   It was like a 5 foot lip and I almost got the first one out, hitting less than an inch from the top, letting me try again.  The next one I hit to like 5' but missed yet another putt.  Orange face.   In the end, I won the day 15-7, but it could've been worse. 

There was a quick turnaround for dinner.  It was on the water.  Like this:

The pictures turned up in reverse order:

RR and I had the Belgian chocolate bomb.

The is Z's creme brulee.

This is the rhubarb and ginger cheesecake which multiple people had. 

A couple people had the ravioli entry. 

They had two fish dishes, one a special, with different sauces.  I don't know which was which. 

I had the one they all ended up envying: the ribeye burger.  It came with a small skillet of cheese fondue which the waiter poured over it, rendering oooo's and ahhh's and "we wish we'd videod that."  The fondue was to die for and the ribeye was A1. 

KG picked the restaurant and started us with a couple of these bad boys: lobster, yes, lobster cocktail. 

It was a very happy and fun dinner, with great food, at least mediocre service (till we wanted the bill, which RR had to go ask for ):).  There was a lot of jocularity at B's expense, a change from at least a day at Vlad's expense (he was 20 minutes late coming down to leave the Airbnb for fishing y'day morning). 

For dessert I moved next to RR (Db had wandered off, maybe to the bathroom) and after one exchange of wisdom he said "that's so wise."  I said "you gonna use it?"  "Heck no. " :)

We came back and played euchre.  RR and B lost again to KG and I in 2 games and RR again slammed his cards on the table and left. :).  We then beat the two brothers 2 straight.  Cards tell.

They are playing Texas hold 'em now with electrical clips as chips. :)

****

Quickly.  Db is long faded :)

The 4 OG's went to the Ness Farm to feed Highland coos.  Yes, that's the way it is spelled on the signs.  Here's my combo pick of said coo and a sheep:

Meanwhile, the young uns were fishing.  Here's the requisite picture, of Vlad with the only one they caught all day.  Their guide and they were frustrated, but they had a good time. 

Last night's dinner just missed the cut. 

Here's a picture of this morning's delicious pancakes.  G-man had 3 breakfasts, including these, which he later deemed as "not a breakfast; did you see how tiny those pancakes were." 

And now a couple house pics.

The garden.

yl

The formal dining room. 

Tomorrow is supposed to be as windy, but only certainly with rain.  It rained awhile today, to the point it felt like sleet. ):

On that happy note, adieu. 

On being Old and [fill in the blank]

 Oy, lasses and laddies (dialect will be a thing in about 2000 words 😂 -- Db groans and says to himself "am I going to commit to reading it all?"),

Today was Cabot Highlands day.  Already we are satiated with good golf, so, after the brilliance of Royal Dornoch we wondered what we were about to get.

Here's one good pic, taken from the men's changing room -- 

Which is a segueway into today's story #1.

At RD, you saw the new clubhouse in the last blog.  They had a men's changing room.  It was very, very nice. Today's was comparable.  When we got there, I went through the changing room and saw that they had lockers, so asked and they gave me a "key" (a plastic card like you use to get into a hotel room) and I put my change of shoes and glasses (I wear contacts only to play golf; so far, FYI, the dry eye has not been bad :)).  And I put the card into the pocket for a wallet at the top of my bag. 

We finish the round, as you remember, in the gloaming, and I want to change to go to dinner (and my readers for when I have my contacts are in the locker, too).  I dig in the pocket.  It's not there!!! I try every pocket and can't find it.  I was about to go see if they could help me when I pulled my wallet and money clip out of my pocket (was I looking for cash to pay someone?) and, lo and behold! it was stuck in my money clip!!! 🎉🥳  (that I might have put it on the money clip has occured to me, but I have no such memory).

Ok.  Today, Cabot Highlands, they have lockers.  This time with keys.  I take one (number 20) and purposefully put the key deep into the wallet pocket.

We finished soaking wet, and you can tell (if you understand logistics) that some of Db's Instagram pics are mine (or maybe not) -- I had the phone out to take a couple pictures.  Or my caddie Colin did. After all the shuffling, taking off two layers of wet gear, digging out my money clip to pay Colin (caddies here, if not everywhere, get paid in cash -- a bit of an issue, but that's another story) and my phone.  Finally, I said to meself, it's time to go change, get my contacts out, and change out of my wet shoes. 

The key wasn't there!!!  I know I let out an RR style "F***!"  The greeter stepped over and asked if he could of help and I told him.  His name was Donnie and he is a former policeman.  Looks the part.   Donnie says, "Do ya mind if I have a look?"  I'm okay with that; I'm an inept old man.  As he goes to do so, he says, go into the pro shop and tell them Donnie said to give you the master key.

I go in and say to the two at the desk that I need help and say "Donnie told me to ask you please can I have the master key because I've lost mine."  The guy behind the counter says, "No, I don't think so."  Pause.  "But I've got this one."  He holds up a set of keys with a "20" tag on them!!!!!  "How?" "We're magic.  It's what we do here."  😂   They told me someone had turned it in at the halfway house (meaning I'd dropped it on the front 9).  Later, I came back and talked to one of the guys and he said "it happens all the time."  Really?  They find it.  "Oh, that almost never happens." 😱

The first point about the course is the Cabot experience.  We have now encountered this at both Bandon Dunes in 2022 and last year at Cabot Cape Breton -- both owned in part or whole by the same guy.  They do everything they can to make you comfortable.  They try not to make the clubhouse too big an issue (though it kinda is here), they give quality service, obviously great golf, and at a less than premium price.  And good food reasonably priced.  We ate both meals yesterday there. I will not repeat what one of the group said about what they buffed once you got on property :)

We played the older course, then the Texans slogged through a late afternoon round on Old Petty, their new course that is only open this year.  They wanted to see it, since it was designed by Tom Doak, maybe the premier living golf architect.  The old course is misnomered "Castle Stuart," although you only see the castle once (you play around it on Old Petty). 

For those of us anxious about the golf course, the first three holes rocked.  The picture above shows some of them -- along the coast (back to the Moray Firth), with the sea to your right on every hole.  On three, a short par 4, it actually played to a narrow peninsula. Banger start :)

There were some really good holes and some that leaned on you.  The 4th turned straight up hill inland, then you came back to the sea parallel to the first three for the finish.  Then you played the other way from the clubhouse -- with the water on the left.  After 12, there was a woman with a cart to drive the lamer golfers up the hill.  Colin said to me, "I hope you don't mind, but we've got a cart to take you up.  It's a climb.  Like 400 steps." Humourously, Maggie, the driver, got three of us on the cart, with two standing on the back (which no course in the US would do because of liability), and the cart did a couple wheelies going up the hill!!!  She apologized but...

Those next 3 holes were okay, but then you get back to the sea view on your right, coming in.  

This is where I tell you about the hell of Scottish golf.  It poured buckets overnight, up until our 10 o'clock tee time.  Colin said his dogs wouldn't even go out. 

But we got lucky again and didn't have rain until the back side.  It sprinkled, stopped.  Sprinkled, stop.  I had my short sleeve rain slicker on, then off.  On, then off.  On like 14 my sleeves were beginning to drip and I got wet changing into my long sleeve slicker.  And kept it on for the rest of the day because it opened up on 16 or 17.  17 is a par 3, into the wind, I think they said it was 230 yards from the white tees.  Db and I lamented hitting driver and not getting.  I didn't have my umbrella up or my rain pants on or my waterproof bucket hat on.  I was soaked when we finished.  Some were wearing their pants all day, or put them on when it got heavy.  But we all had to come home and dry stuff, including golf equipment out.  One of the caddies, I think it was Z's, named Torquil, "call me T," told us we didn't come to Scotland to not get the full Scottish golf experience.  FYI, yes, it was raining sideways, which we discussed was why we didn't get our 'brellies out.  Except B did and reported he probably ruined his when it popped inside out at least once. :)

I have to tell a bit about Colin, who will be prominent in the final story.  He was a retired truck driver from Glasgow.  He was a wee man and might have been my age (advanced).  He was in good shape; he doubled bagged for KG and I.  (The caddying situation was much discussed in postgame analysis).  It was conceded there'd been mistakes made setting up the caddies -- we shouldn't have double bagged.  We play different tees and we played from opposite sides of the fairway all day -- KG pointed out on like 15 that we were finally together after our tee shots for the first time. ):

Colin was a Glaswegian. If you don't know, the accent is famous for being strong.  Barry, the South African, was far more understandable.  I don't know how many times i had to have Colin repeat something because all I heard was mah dah i bah ee reet un blah blah blah.  So it goes right you say?  He was a good chap, working his ass off, the other foursome was behind us and they commented several times on the fact he was actually running (we were warned at least twice that we were behind pace).  There were a lot of times KG and/or I waited for Colin to cross the fairway to get a shot off. 

I will pause here for food porn. 

Here are the breakfast pictures:

RR, who loves salmon, got the avocado toast with salmon.

I think I'm Scottish now, though I couldn't understand Colin :), so I had porridge.

This is their breakfast sammy. 

Then for dinner:

After the round, B had this for lunch/dinner.  The logo in the bun is a thing. :)

Their croque monsieur (it's been on almost every menu), but this has haggis instead of ham.  Ponder that, if you will. 

G-man's (obviously) salmon over noodles. 

My club sandwich.

And everyone had this -- which was scrumptious. 

And now for a bit of talk for Sean, in the hopes Db doesn't read this far. :)

Db and I are now on our 4th trip to the British Isles to play golf.  We've always rented a car, and for the first trip, to St. Andrews, I did all the driving.  4 years ago in Ireland there were 7 of us, so we had two cars. 2 years ago it was just he and I golfing, so we had one small SUV for the part of the trip we were golfing and we shared driving duties -- he drives TO the course, and I drive BACK. 

Yesterday morning we are going to Cabot and we get in the van (we can all fit, with clubs! into the 7-passenger van) and I say I know where we are going and he doesn't need "the Google."  He grumbles, but says okay.  We get on the A9 (he now has it down that the opening left hand turn is into the nearest lane, instead of the first night when he tried to go across to the other and side and we all screamed at him :)).  A ways up the highway he says "are you going to tell me where to go?"  I said "we go up to the roundabout for the A96 to Aberdeen"...

Moments later the sign pops for the A96 and it's a turn and the turn lane is full of traffic.  He has to dive across traffic to get there (we would have had to go a ways to turn around).  He cusses, drives, and says "that's why I wanted to put in the GPS."  Okay, fair enough. 

Coming back the first time, I'm driving.  Here's the tab from Cabot (they keep one going the whole time you're there and you settle up); it only shows 15 pints, which everyone said was WAY low (there were 8 just for the post-round first beers), but many were consumed.  He conceded easily that I should drive.

I was lost going out.  But there was only one way in and one way out.  I stopped at one point because there was a gate in the way.  We hadn't stopped for a gate coming in. ???  "It was open."  "oh."  I recognized none of the road out the the A96. I don't know why.  🤷 

We get to the intersection with A96 and there are two lanes (and a turn-in curve that we came in).  He says, "You're in the wrong lane."  "No I'm not."  "Really f***ing are."  "No."  "That other lane is the turn lane." I did what I did, got on the A96.  We went back and forth and finally he just gave up and said "you're right" in that tone every married person knows. :) We sat silently for a bit and he says, "Yeah, you were right.  That lane was for people coming from our left to turn in."  :)

So, we get to the roundabout where the A96 meets the A9 and I'm not far enough left to do the immediate dive left I had to do and go around the circle.  There's a stop light.  "You need to be left."  "I'm okay."  "No, get left," and the light changes and I don't dive left and he says, "You're going to miss our turn" and I say "I want to go to Perth" and point to the sign and he gets quiet.  "My bad."  😂.  Pause.  "That would have been bad; it's a long way till you can turn around" (it was the road we'd just been on) -- "I got confused and just remembered A96."   

Note two things: I did tell a couple bits to my benefit (it IS MY blog :)), and he and I bicker like we're an old couple.  It gives us both joy. :)

I finish with this.  It's heather (if you didn't know or the picture isn't good enough).  It's still got a bit of purple to it there at Cabot, but was much brighter and fulsome at Dornoch.  It's the closest I've been to it. 

Wednesday is a travel day.  The Texans are trout fishing.  The OG's are going to the petting zoo and...well, to be determined.  

Hope you enjoyed.  Gun a-maireach.

Monster Day; or not!

 Hi, dear readers (do you hear the Scottish accent?), 

Today was Royal Dornoch day.  I write this with little time as dinner calls, but here are your quick highlights. 

The Texans went fishing early.  G-man "fell in," though he was only wet up to the middle of his shins, and they caught nothing.  His wise statement was "it's called fishing, not catching."  😂

Meanwhile, the OG's went for breakfast. After a slow start. 

We all ended up in the same eatery a mile from our place.  It wasn't worth a photo. But it was good.  Highlight was that it was a dog place and Db to meet lots of dogs. 

The OG's then went on to look for the Loch Ness monster.  Db put "Loch Ness" in the google and that turned out to be v, v bad.  ):

We ended up on the south coast road.  "Track?" :). It was one-lane for miles, with lots of gasps as cars came and we decided who had the lay-by.  It was narrow enough that hit guttered through washouts and at times scraped the left side with tree branches.  None of us has dared to look to see how much paint is missing (I know Sean loves this stuff :)).

He blew ride by the semi-official overlook (it had an informational sign), I guess looking for something better.  We stopped not much farther down the road in a pullover and they went down the hill to the shore -- I don't know why and neither did they. :). It was not the nicest day, rather choppy on the loch.

Here's the thing: instead of taking us back the way we came (which made since to me), Google took us on down the southside, then a turn more south, and then...

More small roads. We went by the fishery where the Texans are fishing Wednesday morning.  When Google said the next turn was onto the A9, I said "I think we're going by the house." Db needed a bathroom...we turned onto the A9 and suddenly there was the turn for the house and he had to kinda dive hard.  The Texans went straight from breakfast, so they were 45 mins ahead for the trip to Dornoch.

Royal Dornoch is one of those places that knowledgeable golfers claimed is wonderful, but it's in the middle of nowhere (Db found out the bridge across Dornoch Firth was only built in 1983) and people have to work to get there.  It was a given that on this trip we were going there.  So...

They just built a new clubhouse. Supposedly cost $15m.  (or pounds).  Here's my money shot from the course as we walked up the 18th -- 

Other than saying that RD lived up to its reputation, I don't know what to say.  I guess I should get to the individualized stuff -- we drove up in a pouring rain.  This did not make us feel good. Duh.  As we got out of the car in the parking lot, it stopped.   Db had his app saying we had clearing till 6, then rain.  And it turned to be just minutes off.   But the first 3 hours were wonderful; our caddies couldn't believe our (and their) luck.  We played several holes in some rain, some heavy, some light, and it stopped toward the end, so that when we finished, it wasn't raining.   But it rained on the way.  So, good on the weather. 

The course starts with what my caddie called "a handshake" (an easy hole).  It went "out" (see last blog) for six holes, with the firth to your right with the golf course between you and the sea.  At six we climbed a big hill, the biggest elevation climb on the course, and, as of then, of the week, and we took pics from 7 tee because it's the money shot. 

That's the one end of the course, then you drop down (there are some interesting holes with rollercoaster fairway dropoffs) and then we turned back into the wind.  Then the rain. ):  A several holes had wild tilts and some had bowls, so the ball did all kinds of weird things.  At one point Z was told "aim for that house" and he said "that one?!?!?" and it was confirmed and he did and the ball hit and banked straight right and down to the pin 40 yards away. 

We all thought the course deserved its rep.  Which is something.  Even if it is somewhere near Norway :)

The story of the day comes from RR.  First, refresh your memory of RR and the euchre game the night before.  Well, he had a series of good holes and we came to a simple-looking par 3.  He flat pushed it, never having a chance to be anything but trouble.  "F***!" he yells.  We didn't think much of it (it's RR :)), but at dinner G-man tells their foursome's version (they were ahead of us): they were standing on the next tee and they hear the scream of "f**k" and KG turns to G-man and says, "That's RR." 😂

My caddie, Barry, was South African.  Several times I didn't understand him.  We were talking about course design and I thought he said "the course was built before the estuary went end."  I don't remember what it was he was saying, but the second part wasn't about the golf course or the estuary (remember, we can see the firth (of Dornoch) on every hole).   He was a great, yes, great caddie: halfway through the round he handed me the club without asking. At one point I said, "Can I play my hybrid here?" and he said, "you can do whatever you want, I'm not your wife." 😂

On a hole on the back side, RR was on the green and hit the first putt about 15 feet short.  He left the second one 3 feet short.  As we walked off, Barry said, "You dropped your lipstick."  😂.  RR says later "I had lipbalm in my pocket and i thought I had actually dropped it." 😂  I got the joke after a beat, then RR got it. 😂

If you look closely at the picture, you can see it getting dark when we finished -- about 730.  B was in charge of dinner, but the place he had picked was closing in minutes.  So, we impressived.  Or Barry did.  He said the place next to the first tee was good and said he'd walk over and see if they can take us; he came out with a thumbs up.   

It was the Royal Something Hotel.  And it was nice.  You'll see the food was fantastic.  But they were pretty full and the service set a new standard for atrocious!  It took 30 minutes to get someone to take our drink order.  It took us two-and-a-half hours to finish -- and we were an hour plus from the house. 😡

But it was good.  Here's today's food porn, starting with desserts --

This is lemon posset.  I'd never heard of it, ordered it (as did Db) and was that a good choice! :)

Apple chocolate tart (only Z had it)

Sticky toffee pudding.  With toffee ice cream. Got rave reviews. 

Several had this -- seafood pasta.  You can see the mussels, there were also shrimp and maybe scallops.

Peri-peri chicken.

Some kind of steak.  

KG and I drove home in the rain and the dark.  RR and B fell asleep in the back seat not ten minutes down the road.  Db laughed when he asked RR a question and got no answer.   :).  Db and I have driven enough over here for it to be a thing that bonds us: the difficulty of adjusting.  He's proud of this simile: driving on the left side is like wiping with your left hand.   He wanted to know why I hadn't used it yet (this is, as you might have noticed, only the 3rd blog)...so now I have. 

And, remember, if you want A LOT, then go to his Instagram at noblegolfer76.  

Tomorrow is Cabot Highlands, where Texans are playing 36.  It is also nearest to the house -- maybe 15 minutes. 

Again, Tioraidh an-drasta! 

Golf Day 1: Cullen Skink & other new stuff

 Hi Avid Readers,

It is Monday morning here; "early."  I wasn't blogging last night, though I had plenty of material. :)

FYI: if you want a pictorial supplement for the blog, go to Instagram & noblegolfer76.  That's Dbrolaw's account and he has a bunch of pics up from the first couple days (and now will feel the pressure to continue throughout the trip :))

With respect to Nairn GC (not Nairn Dunbar where are clubs WERE NOT on Saturday 😂), I'm opening with a cast of characters pic --

From the left: Vlad, Z, KG, Gilligan, Db, B, RR & G-man. The Skipper didn't make the photo (jk, Sean).

I said over time each character would do something to distinguish themselves, so here you go -- The first Z story 😂:

Everyone went to bed pretty early Saturday night.  Several around 9.  Vlad crashed in his clothes immediately after we got back for the Castle Tavern around 8 😂.  No one really paid attention to when Z went to bed, but around then (I'm sure there'll be hyper corrections from those shooting for accuracy here :)).  Sunday morning starting at around 630, people started wandering into the kitchen, making coffee, talking.  It got to be 8, and Z wasn't down yet.  G-man went up and knocked on his door. Nothing.  We said we were leaving at ~1015.  No Z.  We kinda wondered.  And, then, just to be the D***W** he's trying to be on this trip (said with love 💗), Db calls him. 😂  He picks up and he says, "Hey, we're leaving for the course in 5 minutes" and hangs up.  They said "he'll be done in no time."  And, sure enough, in less than 5 minutes, he was down in the 'fit you see above . 😂😂😂  He took it pretty well when we said "just kidding." 😂

Nairn is half hour east of where we are staying.  As you can see from the Instagram posts, it has a great archive room, which we all got a tour of.  Their claim to fame in golf circles is they hosted the Walker Cup in 1999.  It's a high, high quality course and we all loved it.  For golf enthusiasts, it goes "out" with the Moray Firth on your right, then comes back inland with parallel fairways coming "in."  The classic links pattern, like the Old Course.  Except it had two front nine "switch backs."  The short par 3 4th goes back toward the clubhouse, and so does the par 3 (I don't remember it) 8th, and there's some back and forth with 9, 10 & 11, before heading home.  At 13 you make a hard right up a hill, which is more daunting as it's the first real elevation change on the course -- "inland."  You then come back down on a very scenic par 3, before continuing toward the clubhouse. 

Final bit of golf: the wind blew in our face all the way out.  I told RR that I was tired of it and he said "what wind?"  He's already a Scot. :). It wasn't much.  But playing downwind back was a bit better. 

The story I have to get down is that my caddie, Sam, and I had a geographic discussion.  We were talking local golf courses and I said "I hear Fortrose is good."  He said yes.  I said "it's over there, right?"  pointing to our right, across the Moray Firth.  He said "no, it's back over there" and pointed pretty much the opposite way.  Okay, my Scottish geography sucks.  Then we wear talking about him living in Inverness and I said, "that way" -- ahead of us as we went out -- and he said "no, back that way" and pointed back at the clubhouse and followed with "Forres and Elgin are that way."  I was going to argue the point (not that I'm like that, and it turns out I'm not :)), but figured he lived here.  But I spent time trying to figure out how the firth could be to our right (north), and he claimed we were heading east.  🤷  This became clearer as the jets came in to land at Inverness Airport -- heading in the direction we were going.  When I told RR this in our post-round convo (we played in separate groups), he said "it's that way...how the f*** do you get that wrong? The planes are kinda a big clue."  Right.  Good one, Sam.  (He wasn't much of a talker and never asked me what I did for a living, family, etc, just where I was from, which he turned into "I have an aunt in Charlotte.")

We started the day with brunch at the club.  Their restaurant had been recommended and I took advantage of that to be the dinner organizer and having us eat there (everyone is assigned a day to have dinner place ready -- avoiding the hour-long "where are we going" and a mediocre choice.  Five of us had their full breakfast -- it's a Db go-to.

The rectange in the center was Lorne sausage; having eaten some of it, I still can't tell you what it is. :) Under the toast is a potato scone.  I would have loved to had the real thing, but I'm sure we'll get one. RR pointed out that it was a heart-healthy plate :)

Eggs benedict for everyone else.

It was good, but service was too slow for several of the party.  I got a chuckle when I said that my water was the best orange juice I had ever had -- someone said they pulped the shit out of it.  LOL.  (she eventually brought it and didn't charge for it)

After golf we settled in for drinks and the young'uns spent time "watching" the NFL for Fantasy Football results.  Youths! 

It is worth noting that the betting part took at least half an hour to calculate -- I think they called EF Hutton.  After day one, RR and Vlad are in the lead; I played with KG and sucked and we are in last.  We are switching partners every day. 

We decided we were too tired to go find another place to eat, so we ate at the club again.  The "weird" thing on the menu (not weird in this part of Scotland, it was on Saturday's menu, too) was something called Cullen Skink.   G-man ordered and wanted him to taste it, but I gave up on that and ordered it anyway.   I will let you look it up, but here's a picture.   It's quite good (if you like that sort of thing), with a smokiness they love here. 

The highlight of the post-round socializing was B finding out that the 4 Texans are playing Royal County Down (I hadn't been able to book it; KG tried last week and they had ONE tee time that the 4 took; it means some intense golf -- we'll prob do that later, but some claim it's the best course in the world).  I said, "Didn't you read your texts?"  and he says, "I don't read all that!" kind of indignant.  It got a great laugh.  "If I want to know something, I just call [Gilligan]"...this became one of the tag lines for the evening "Well, we can't text B..."  and there were occasions when we might have.  

And, now, the nightcap:

We get back to the house and KG wants to play euchre (if you know, you know, if not, it's a card game that is nearly inexplicable), and we end up with KG and I taking on B and RR, who have done a lot of chatting.  :). They didn't know each other and are IU fans, Hoosiers, of an age.  

KG and I get out of the gate early -- I think it was 6-0 before they scored -- and RR got madder and madder.  He was infamous for this in college -- he can bring the intensity.  

When we got to 9 -- "in the barn" -- KG and I leaned into the intensity by doing a NSFW team hand gesture.  RR said "no! he have to put on the cow's ears" (this notion proves that Hoosiers spend too much time at farms and have too much imagination), saying, you have to put the one scorecard behind each ear (you use the 4 and the 6 to keep the count up to 10).  KG did (surprisingly -- though there had been some serious alcohol consumption [vacation, etc, etc] and we all laughed so hard...RR got a picture.  It's a good picture but I'm respecting KG's desire not to have it published 😂

We won the game and went on to the second.  We got the lead and RR got hotter and hotter.  Every trick we won he spat "F***!" (KG said this morning he used the F bomb more in that game than he'd used it in a month and that was saying something :).  But B kept saying "We've got this."  And they came back.  They got to 9-6 and RR put on the cow ears (ROFL, ROFL, LOL).   

We then swept the next hand to make it 9-8.  I think B dealt, but in the end it got passed to me and I made it clubs.  I had 3 to the left and two diamonds.  With every trick came another "F!" 😂

And we got every trick!!!!  😂😂😂. RR took this calmly.  By slamming his last card on the table, saying F! F! F! (I don't know how many) and stomping out of the room -- cow's ears flying to the floor.  😂😂😂.

He'll be jonesing for a rematch. :)

And that's enough.  I have to actually do some things today to have blog material.  :)

Hope you enjoyed.  Slan leat 

 

 

 

The Blog that wasn't supposed to be -- Day 1: bad language, bad help, and we're swamped :)

 Yes, gang, here we are again, with the first of many (I'm sure too many for some of you) blogs from this, the BIGGEST TRIP EVER!!!!  (no, no hyperbole at all) [there wasn't going to be a blog yet, but a lot happened and I had time tonight...]

Here's the Wikipedia Quick Facts:  8 of us are just outside Inverness, Scotland (if you're not keen on Scottish geography, it is WAY up north, and is the capital of the Highlands).  We are here to play golf, with 4 going home to Texas after 12 days, the 4 OGs going back to Scotland for 2 rounds outside Edinburgh, then RR and I meet K in London to start almost 2 weeks of "cultural" vacation -- London, France, Brussels, and Amsterdam. 

Who's along? For this part with start with the usual suspects: myself, my son (known as KG), my two brother-in-laws (known as Dbrolaw and B), my college friend RR (from the May trip), and three of KG's buddies from the Dallas area (for these purposes) -- G-man (his nickname from the Bandon trip 5 years ago), Z, and Vlad, a nickname so inside I'm the only one who understands it.  They'll distinguish themselves as the 12 days go by. 

I did the travel agent stuff for the trip, so am responsible for the accommodations -- though I asked for input and generally got shrugs of disinterest.  This first place is a manor house, replete with suits of armor in the front foyer. 

It's a banger! 

How many places have armor on the first floor landing (and a grandfather clock)?

The place has six bedrooms and five baths and Paul, the proprietor, has been renovating it for 15 years.  He's a bit of a character. 

But here you go, classic Steve travel story one: the place is a bit out in the country (it also has its own fishing rights on the River Nairn, which some advantage will be taken and I used the "get directions" link on their airbnb page to get us here from the airport (we'll come back to that...) I made what turned out to be the right right-hand turn off the motorway (A9 for those counting at home) and are immediately in a little village (it doesn't even have a pub, unlike the place 4 years ago in Ireland :)) 

I end up turning around in the middle of the village and try again, and now it takes us across the A9 (remember, I'm driving on the "wrong side of the road" trying to cross the superhighway) and down a lane that didn't hold two cars at once -- you had to dive in dive spots.  Coming back, a bus came crashing towards us and I found a spot to dive and survive into. 

Anyway,  the map took us to a gate with a sign on it that said, no shit! "This is not the Airbnb! This is a private home.  Don't open the gate and come in!" :). B said "if you're going to say you aren't the Airbnb, can't you tell us where it is?"  Fair point. 

The next iteration -- were we now trying Apple Maps? -- fyi, Db asked the guy at Enterprise which worked best and he said both were equally awful locally. :) -- sent me across the A9, up a muddy track.  At the top there was a turn, and a gate straight ahead.  I ended up calling Paul and he told me to come in the gate and we were there.  

Paul was dressed like Mick Fleetwood regaled in purple velvet.  And he'd done the tour thing 100s of times -- he went through everything so fast the four of us couldn't keep track of it all.  :) He was also wearing a purple velvet hat.   

The other thing that impressed us is there's a 1930s phone in the ground floor community room (there's one on the first floor, too) and it is live and calls him directly if you pick it up!  Neat trick.  Probably good idea. 

While we were doing this, the other four took the van (we have a seven-passenger van and a large Mercedes SUV -- when we get all the suitcases and clubs together, it's A LOT!) and went to Nairn Golf Club, which is like 15 minutes in the opposite direction from the airpo

Db, the designated van driver, whips into the course and they are all wondering "where's the water?"  and the clubhouse was less than they expected.  They go in and say "we're here to pick up our clubs" and the guy (alone) in the shop says "what clubs?"  "WE have 8 sets of clubs shipped here."  I guess the guy looked around and said "I think I'd know if I had 8 sets of clubs show up."  They were at Nairn Dunbar GC, not Nairn Nairn GC. :) :) :). 

They eventually found the right place and one worker didn't want to go get them, but sent them upstairs for a drink and to look at their archives (it's a modestly famous course in the UK).  They got them (if you wonder why we'd both, you would have to know golfers and their equipment...it's a thing). 

Okay, back tracking, here are some quick hitter stories:

• The plane from London to Inverness (which so far is lovely, there's a picture of their castle) was full of school children going on a trip.  Two sat next to me, and two in the outside two seats for several rows.  I'd say I taught them a new word, but one of them who sat next to KG dropped it more often than most people say "the." :).  He and his row companion were busted before we ever took off and a couple times thereafter. :). Youths. 🤷   The ruggers were very noisy. ):
• In logistics problem 1001, the driver who was supposed to pick of the 4 Texans and B was late.  And showed up in wrong spot.  And never flashed the card with my name on.  And then got lost on the way between airports (he's never done this before?!?!?!  WTF?!?!?).  I was told he got no tip! 
• While the driver wasn't showing up, B was texting, asking where he was supposed to be :). Db sent a picture of KG, myself, B and him from 3 summers ago and said "guess who is who" and I said "B is the one who doesn't read the material." :) [I thought it was funny]
• In a moment of !@#$%^&*() I checked in as Z for the flight to Inverness -- I had all 8 tickets in my Apple Wallet and didn't know it and didn't look.  Z, the last one to try to check in, was cutoff.  Eventually someone figured it out, but he said he was scared...
• and the early winner: RR and I were on the shuttle to the airport Thursday night and a whole group of United pilots got on.  So I asked them what the message to Db meant -- he was told a day ahead that his flight was going to be 3 hours late.  They said it was definitely (he changed flights and it worked out well) a red flag.  But then the one I asked said, "whew! I thought you were going to ask the question that is asked frequently". "Which is?"  "Are there aliens?"  We chuckled and talked about it.  It seems that is closely followed by "is it flat or round."  Discussion of water falling off the edges :).  People!

I"m sure I'm missing several, but that's enough of an opener.  Everyone has crashed early, since 6 of us (not RR and myself) "slept" on the plane last night from the States. 

I finish with this the food porn du jour -- fish and chips from the Castle Tavern, right above the River Ness in downtown Inverness -- five people ordered it and all raved, as you might imagine. 

Which brings us to the title: we were outside and had trouble getting even that table.  When the fish and chips came there was an immediate desire more tartar sauce (as you might see from the pic).  When we finally got our wait staff's attention, we were told "we're too swamped to get out anymore..."  We did eventually get another (small) bowlful.  

And, final food porn (there'll be golf porn tomorrow), RR's pancakes this morning at Bill's in London

NB I have left out a series of NSFW, or not safe for ANYTHING!, jokes told early today.  B says it wasn't his best material, bc you don't use it on the first day. 😂

What Happens in Vermont...Nothing!

[editor's note: I'm supposed to make the record accurate by saying that K's aunt isn't 85, as maybe reported in a previous blog. She's ONLY 79. 😂 ]

So, we have been here two days.  We are done. 

I'll say this about Vermont: nobody has ever raved about its fast-pace.  Including me. 

Here we go:

After breakfast at the bagel place, .2 mile from our lodging, the historic Middlebury Inn (which has been fine and geographically convenient), we went and picked up Aunt Em.  Who said she'd show us the way "around the mountains" (discussions of what constitutes a mountain will wait for another day). 

I will summarize this way: we ended up on multiple dirt roads (I didn't know they really existed anymore), one that said "road blockaded ahead" (it wasn't), wondered through a ski resort's timeshare condos to the point where we came to a dead end. I mean, dead.  Had to do a 3-point turn around. 

I was not allowed to use Google maps until she was lost in the ski resort.  Then we were okay. 

It's lovely country.  Reminds us of home in Pennsylvania -- rolling hills, farms, trees, and some small mountains nearby.  Of course the weather here sucks worse in the winter. 

Our first stop was in Warren.  I couldn't find it again on a map.  We went into a hippie shop, run by a woman who might be called Rita, who had flaming fake red hair, and was 73 (she told us so).  Rita told this joke (you know, we were old pals after 3 minutes); if the man is in the woods alone, without a woman, is he still wrong?  She said the obvious answer is yes.  Laugh if you dare. 

We have stopped at at least 4 country stores, the theme of the trip like Christmas markets were on the trip to France in January, and eaten ice cream in many.  Here they call soft serve "creemee" and even have a Vermont creemee passport (I know my friend from Carlisle will be interested 😂).  K is in love with maple creemee, something you don't get back home (she likes maple more than chocolate! Sacrilege!)

We ended up at dinner at the Waybury Inn, which is where they shot the exteriors for the Bob Newhart Show.  You know. the one with "my brother Darryl, and my other brother Darryl."  Darryl and Darryl lived near there.  

The food was excellent.  

Vietnamese salmon (not actually brought in from Vietnam)

Spare ribs (we decided pigs have extra 😂)

Then, back to the hotel. 

This morning we found a "real" breakfast place (for two, $50, without cocktails!!! 😡) over near campus (Middlebury College, Carlisle-guy :))...the french toast, on Texas toast, was worth the photo. 

And, yes, it was real maple syrup.  Where do you think we are, Bloomsburg?!?! 😂

On the way north, we stopped at Beau Ties.  If you don't know their stuff, well, I'm not surprised.  We were told they made a lot of money in masks in the pandemic.  Here's our new friend Liz from there --

Liz growled pleasantly to let you know you weren't petting her enough. :). It was kinda cute. 

Then off to a place I'd never heard of: Shelburne Museum. 

The woman who put the museum together, her name was Electra and her family made their money in sugar and railroads.  She must have had a lot of money.  There are 39 buildings on the campus, and 25 have been moved there.  The first was a one-room schoolhouse.  

The most impressive is the ship that sits in about the center of the 40+ acres.  It is the SS Ticonderoga (or just "Ti" to the locals), which is one of few side-paddle steamboats.  There was a movie about how they drug it from Lake Champlain to the site, which took 60+ days and a lot of moving of rails.  It's an amazing site. 

The museum was full of folk art, which isn't my thing.  But I did like the quilt exhibit, which made one wonder -- the one supposedly had 769 triangles.  It felt like math to me. ):

Then to the village of Shelburne, where we found...a country store!!!  Stunning.  The pic of the maple creemee is from there.  The title comes from K laughing at a magnet in there; it said "what happens in Vermont, stays in Vermont, but nothing happens in Vermont."  😂. She bought it, some maple sugar, some maple candy, and like a ten gallon thing of maple syrup (slight exaggeration).  But she likes maple. 

We then tried to find Lake Champlain on the way back and didn't so much fail as never got to a spot where there was a good money shot.  It is a big lake, some 600 feet deep at some points. 

Hotel, nap, clean up, and back to get Auntie Em for final dinner.  Indian.  Here are pics: we had their original/classic, korma and (the bright red one) tikki marsala.  

There was a cookie store "one minute away" walking, acc to "the google."  

Here's what I had -- their "lovewich."  It's a butterscotch and chocolate chip cookie.  Fresh made. 

And, that, my friends, is about it.  We go home tomorrow.  Rah effin' rah. 

I go home to begin practice packing for my next trip -- "our" next trip -- when we go on the BIG TRIP to Europe.  28 days.  Six countries.  10 rounds of golf.  I've lost track of how many airbnbs, hotel rooms, and cars rented.  Like the years we've been married -- alot.

Till then.