The rain is pelting down when I land in Glasgow. Strapped into my rental car, I refamiliarize myself with left-hand drive on the fifty-minute trip to Ardrossan, where I catch the ferry to Arran. There I check into the splendid Kilmichael Country House Hotel, just two miles from the landing in Brodick. After lunch the rain begins to let up, so I resist the temptation to take a nap and head north on a dramatic thirty-minute drive to Lochranza Golf Course through terrain reminiscent of the Highlands.
Lochranza is a clever if slightly confusing layout—it's more than a nine-holer but isn't exactly a full eighteen. Eighteen tees play to twelve greens, six of them double greens. As I play, I spy evidence of a recent high tide—seaweed and jellyfish are strewn about the low-lying areas closest to Lochranza Harbor. There are only two other golfers on the course, but I'm not lacking for company. A tame herd of a dozen or so red deer accompanies me around the links, eyeing me with mild curiosity. The alpha male, with his imposing twelve-point rack, bellows at me from time to time. "You don't want to get too close too him," warns Iain Robertson, Lochranza's proprietor. "It's rutting season." I keep my distance and play out my round without incident.
Back at Kilmichael, I shower and change for dinner. This is the kind of place where you join your fellow guests in a drawing room to sip a single malt and order your meal. (I have the Savoury Bread and Butter Pudding, one of those Scottish dishes that sounds odd but tastes delicious.) On this particular evening, eight of the nine guests conversing in the petite, beautifully appointed dining room are celebrating a wedding anniversary. Guess who is the odd man out.
The next morning, Fortified by A full Scottish breakfast, I return to my room and encounter a tiny brown wren that has flown in through an open window. "Could this be an omen?" I wonder as I set the twittering creature free. Alas, it is the only birdie I'll see all day.
First stop: Corrie Golf Club, a charming nine-holer. The tea room-clubhouse is closed, as is the modest changing room. But the Honesty Box—where visitors are asked to place their greens fees—is open. Golfers access the first tee by means of a small gate, hard by one of the many wildlife grates I will see on Arran's courses. Corrie opens with a nondescript par three but then perks up as it turns toward the highlands. Soon I discover one of the secrets of Arran golf: Although traditional links layouts often follow an out-and-back design, three of Arran's courses take the up-and-down approach. By the time I have clambered up to the highest point on Corrie, I am more than ready to park myself on a bench and catch my breath. A ring of the island's tallest peaks (just under three thousand feet) forms a dramatic backdrop, while Sannox Bay shimmers below in the morning sun. The trip downhill is a breeze.
Changing into shorts, I set out for an afternoon round at the Brodick Golf Club, a pleasant eighteen-hole layout overlooking Brodick Bay. Completely flat, Brodick provides a welcome contrast to the exertions of the morning. There are challenges aplenty, including the par-three eighth hole, the only 167-yard dogleg I have ever played, and the formidable eighteenth, a tight 222-yarder that reminds me of the directions to grandmother's house ("Over the river and through the woods . . ."). The cheery clubhouse bar is the perfect place to sample my first pint of Arran ale.
My first port of call the next morning is Lamlash Golf Club. With its lusty hills, it is not a course for the faint of heart or weak of calf. I am delighted when I glance at the scorecard on the eleventh tee and discover that this hole is called Last Climb.
Huffing and puffing notwithstanding, Lamlash is a treat. Admittedly, I may be charmed by the sight of the golfer on the fifteenth tee who shouts "Fore!" as his ball heads straight into an unsuspecting herd of cows. Or perhaps I am simply swept away by the jaw-dropping views of the Holy Isle—so named because of its long history as a sacred site—on this sunny morning. Whatever the reason, Lamlash leaps to the top of my list.
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