This isn’t just another round or two. It’s a pilgrimage to the birthplace of golf.

By Tyler Dillon

The names of her courses remind us of ancient battlefields, where many an iron-swinging gladiator squared off against destiny (or at least strong winds): Gleneagles, Kingsbarns and the legendary St. Andrews. Indeed, Scotland is the Old Country for serious golfers of any flag.

Visiting Scotland without sneaking in a round at the links is practically sacrilegious, the equivalent of strolling through the Sistine Chapel without ever looking up at the ceiling. Take the course at one of the game’s most hallowed cathedrals, and you’ll soon find yourself joyfully immersed in days gone by…

St. Andrews
When I think about the places where our most-beloved sports began (the Massachusetts YMCA where James Naismith created basketball, or the eponymous town of Rugby in Warwickshire, England), few resonate as strongly as St. Andrews, the homeland of golf (specifically, The Royal & Ancient Golf Club). This is where your golf pilgrimage should begin—at the Old Course, the origin, the place that started it all.

Centuries after birthing the game, St. Andrews remains a quaint little town on the coast in Fife, with the links occupying almost as much space as the rest of the village. To this day the links are owned by the villagers, including those attending the University of St. Andrews, the third-oldest university in the English-speaking world.

And just as this is a place where the land meets the sea and the town meets the gown, one can’t help but feel that in St. Andrews, golf merges with the people, the community and the culture, to make up its very essence. In fact, one can hardly tell where the course ends and the town begins because, for all intents and purposes, they’re one and the same.

Teeing off on the Old Course is an ordeal, a test of one’s concentration, given that it is almost in the village itself and at times is announced by staff of the course. Then there is the massive size of the green as it joins the 18th green. This is the port from which we leave the town to sail out onto the course. And much like at sea, there are mythical and actual events that any St Andrews’ golfer must be prepared for—such as the haar, a cold-air coastal fog that can come in from the sea even on a clear day, and covers the course in a haze. There is another hole that intermixes with the village—17, or the Road hole. You have to strike the ball over the road, sending it in the direction of a hotel sign. It is in stark contrast to the remoteness felt at the next course.

Kingsbarns
About seven miles south of St. Andrews lies Kingsbarns, a perfect embodiment of what I’d call a pure course and the logical place to head after St. Andrews. If you could somehow extract the village from St. Andrews and leave the coast and wind, Kingsbarns is what you’d be left with. Founded in 1793 but reworked in 2000, it is the new kid on the block in a neighbourhood where it is hard to keep up with the (Trent) Joneses—but keep up it does.

Gleneagles
After Kingsbarns, head into the hills northwest from the coast to Perthshire and Gleneagles, the home of the 2014 Ryder Cup (the course isn’t named for the bird of prey, but rather a mistake on the Gaelic eaglais, meaning church). Here you want to play the PGA Centenary Course. It is a completely different world from the coast; think picturesque Scottish highlands, beautiful valleys, sweeping rolling hills and the smell of peat fires in the distance.

On this part of the trip you experience the Highlands—and a feeling that you’re very, very far from London. It is not an edge-of-the-world sort of place; instead, it feels more like a gateway, your final stop before the last leg of the journey to the edge of the world, and there is a certain kind of joy in that.

After traversing these three storied shrines to the game, head back south to Edinburgh and spend a day in the city. Striding through the streets, liberated from having to worry about your next shot, you’ll welcome the well-earned change of pace—for a while, anyway.

Before long the mist will return, and don’t be surprised if the ghosts of golfers past beckon you back once more.

Hotels to stay in along the way: Old Course Inn, The Balmoral, Edinburgh, Kinross House, Gleneagles Hotel.

Tyler Dillon was born in California and raised in rural Georgia. He spent his early adult life travelling and working around the world—largely in Ireland, China, Myanmar and Peru. Tyler now makes Toronto his home, where he designs golfing, biking and walking trips for luxury travel company Butterfield & Robinson. He still steps in, when he can, to guide trips with Butterfield & Robinson to Ireland and Scotland.