Outside the (Tee)box

Adopting the appropriate tag-line “forged by nature” Royal Portrush is undoubtedly one of, if not the most, picturesque course on the Open rotation.

Stood on the precipice of the North Atlantic immersed within the dunes, Thursday at Portrush delivered the full links experience with sunny intervals in-between patches of torrential rain.

It ended in classic Thursday major fashion with two tied leaders being Jacob Skov Olesen and Hao-tong Li, neither of whom were likely to have featured on pre-round bet slips.

But the trip was not solely about the Open for us. Golf provides the incentive to travel to areas off the beaten track, and it is refreshing to take in your surroundings without any distractions.

We arrived in Belfast early on Tuesday of Open week, and after navigating the convoluted transportation system we wound are way up to the North coast and to our first night’s accommodation in Ballintoy. A small village on the Causeway Coast with stunning views of the Antrim coastline and the faint outline of Rathlin Island further ashore.

After failing through the ballot, we had snatched our tickets on the resale platform, by then accommodation was few and far between.

Three-bedroom houses were rarely falling under the £600 a night bracket and it didn’t get much better as far away as Belfast or Derry. Our spot came up as a late steal at £200 for the night.

You can partially blame wealthy travellers from the states for the inflated rates. We even heard a story from a local in Portrush who gave up their house for the week after an American chap knocked on her door and offered to pay their mortgage. It’s tough for a group of 24-year-olds to compete with that.

After finding out there wasn’t a shop in Ballintoy, we got the bus to Ballycastle to buy groceries (beer). Soon after securing the goods, we found out we had missed the final bus back, so we booked a cab and waited with a pint at the Boyd Arms to pass the time.

We were soon joined by local drinkers, in a private(ish) booth with sliding doors like you’d find on an old steam train. They waxed lyrical about their youth growing up in Ballycastle, from nights out with George Best to smooching Bruce Springsteen, quickly pulling up photographic evidence before we could call bulls**t. Three whiskey shots in and we quickly made the call to delay the cabby, who seemed understanding of our position.

Springsteen’s lucky lady even offered us a lift to Portrush for the golf; a level of hospitality and friendliness alien to us but seemingly never a big deal to the locals we encountered.

After a sub-zero dip in the morning at Ballintoy beach, we hopped on the bus towards Portrush, stopping by at the Giants Causeway and Dunluce Castle, before transferring to the camping village at Coleraine.

The village was free for us as U25s and campers bounced in the main tent every night to the sound of Amy McDonald on repeat. And she was right, “this is the life”.

Arriving at the golf the following morning, we soon found out it was not clever to simply follow the main groups hole to hole, else you end up shouting “let’s go Scottie” five rows back while being poked in the eye by massive brolleys, further obscuring your line of sight.

Instead, we opted for patience, making our way to the 7^th hole and positioning ourselves slap bang behind the green for the feature groups and the crowd to come to us, before moving to the 12^th and later Calamity Corner at the 16^th.

That way we got to experience the raucous crowds following Shane Lowry and Rory McIlroy from prime position as well as being in earshot of Bryson DeChambeau when he’d exclaim, “dude that was such a good swing as well”, after missing his 13^th green of the round.

We finished up the day perched atop the hill by the 18^th fairway squinting at the green as the grandstand erupted for the end of McIlroy’s homecoming.

The finale of a priceless experience, aside from the hundreds splashed in the Open shop.

So, if you plan on going to the Open in the future, consider venturing outside of the course, embrace the scenery, the locals, and carefully form a strategy for golf day.

Roll on Royal Birkdale!