Scotland the Brave - A Story - You call this golf?

We arrived in Scotland to find blustery, rainy weather, just like we expected

     Moving along from fun time in Holland, it was a quick flight from Amsterdam to Stornoway, Scotland on the Isle of Lewis.  This is where Fiona was born and raised.  Our son is named after this island.  
     We are here for a family visit for a week or so, but the main event is the Wedding of the Century on Friday between cousin Anne-Marie and Sean, who hails from nearby Ireland.

When the ball lands, it tends to sink at this golf course, and this was on the green.  Imagine trying to putt this?

     

Epic Golf Outing!  

     
     We went and played golf yesterday, with the realization that it was going to be wet and challenging.  The ladies were at a wedding function, something like an afternoon tea, which gave us a perfect opportunity to get away for a round of golf - or so we thought. 

The Ladies dressed up and heading out for afternoon tea and wedding pleasantries - do you have your raised pinky ready?  Lewis with a photo bomb in the background.  

     
     It had rained hard in the morning, and from what we were told, it's been raining and unpleasant here for some time, so we anticipated difficult conditions on the course.
     But in reality, to say we were unprepared would be a misuse of the English language.  The only thing we had was a positive attitude, which quickly faded under the battle-like elements we faced. 
     We were completely without any of the normal accouterments of golf - we had no clubs, no balls, no tees, no cart, no gloves, no nothing - and worst of all we had no shoes. 
     If you're going to play golf in bad conditions, you at least need some good shoes.  Instead, I played in my running shoes and Lewis played in my Teva rafter sandals, which were pretty close to playing in flip flops.
     However, the intrepid staff (it was actually one lovely chap) was very accommodating and he did his level best to equip us with rental clubs and such.  This turned out to be a challenge because he couldn't find the key to the storage locker and then all the clubs were left handed, and we managed to tackle the course with one shared grab bag of miscellaneous clubs of dubious quality.
     Lewis started out with socks on, but that lasted about ten feet, when he walked through standing water off the first tee.  So he had to play the rest of the day with bare feet in sandals.  He had to roll up his pants so they wouldn't get wet, and you can imagine how that looked. 

     
     It was hillbilly golf from the start.  We didn't know the course, so we had to hack and whack our way through the heather and peat.  
     It was super wet and soggy, and we were slipping and sliding many times, occasionally during the back swing, which gave us a good excuse for our rather poor performance.  
     But we were having a good time and earned some local street cred for taking on this challenge under nearly impossible odds.  In fact, there were very few fellow golfers out there.  Apparently the regulars had enough sense to head to the pub. 
     At any rate, we managed to make our way around the front nine only losing three balls, which is a miracle of the highest magnitude and I would be willing to loan this miracle to the current pope if he needs one for sainthood.
      There were a bunch of trees and sand and a whole lot of water.  Unfortunately the water was not in a lake or typical water hazard, but right on the surface.   And the terrain was Scottish in every way, sponge-like turf with uneven surface, moss, rocks, hills, - in fact I expected to see Braveheart pop out from behind a tree, with an arrow in his arse!
     Believe it or not, Lewis began to score and got a couple of pars and a birdie.  He is a pretty good golfer, and I'm ... not.  But I got off a good shot or two, which managed to find the fairway.  We agreed in advance, in order to preserve our sanity, that we wouldn't keep score.  Our excuse was that we didn't have a pencil ...
     We had a lot of good laughs, and were amazed at the view from the top, you could see all the way to the mainland some 40 miles away.  The course was actually pretty creative, and with some resources, could have been pretty decent.  It was definitely unique. 

     We realized that we were running out of time (it took way longer to play than "normal" golf) and we had to wrap things up and go pick up the girls from the afternoon tea.  
     So we abbreviated our play and cut short to head to the clubhouse, and were surprised to see the girls there waiting for us.  They had been given a lift by cousin Lorraine, along with her two lovely girls, Sarah and Isla.  
     They were astonished when they saw us walking up the course, and averted their eyes.  I heard the words "ridiculous" "morons" and "embarrassing" come from their direction, along with the very appropriate "hillbilly".
     And to add one more indignity, there was no way off the course from there - other than to climb the stone wall lining the nearby fairway.  So we threw the clubs over the wall and scaled it and emerged triumphant from the wildest round of golf I have ever played. 

     We turned the clubs back in and the bloke asked up how we did.  I answered "well, maybe not my best day golfing!"
     And he said:
     Welcome to Scotland!