Jerry Lawton enjoys his golf in Northern Ireland in the footsteps of legends
Bathed in sunshine on the 10th tee at Castlerock Golf Club, contemplating a horror shot to a tiny green bordered by bunkers, rough and a railway, it hit me that I was following in the footsteps of giants.
Many of golf ’s biggest stars have faced that same challenge. Shane Lowry scored his first hole-in-one on the course, tucked away on Northern Ireland’s north coast.
He won The Open just down the road at Royal Portrush – where superstar Rory McIlroy honed his skills.
Ryder Cup-winning captain and player Paul McGinley holds the Castlerock course record.
Former Open champion Darren Clarke plays there regularly.
And yet here I was putting my patchy 18-handicap to the ultimate test.
Of course I flopped. The 5th hole is the Railway – that’s where my ball went. I think it caught the 17:11 to Belfast. At the 9th – the Quarry – it disappeared down the vast chasm.
No prizes for guessing what happened at the Burn. But a truly tragic display did not hamper my enjoyment of one of the most beautiful parts of the UK.
I had never contemplated holidaying in Northern Ireland.
But as its UK status makes Covid travel easy, I decided on an adventure to the Emerald Isle. My easyJet flight from Manchester to Belfast took 35 minutes – barely time for a Guinness.
Ten minutes after touchdown I was driving away in a Vauxhall Insignia from the Enterprise car hire depot.
Upon saying I was going to the seaside village of Ballycastle, I was told: “Head to Larne and take the coast road. It’s like Highway One!’’
I responded with a wry grin. My sarcasm was misplaced.
The Antrim Coast Road – the A2 – may not have the glitz of the San Francisco to LA trail but the scenery gives it a run for its money and historically it knocks it out of the park.
The road snakes along past coastal villages, some of the world’s best golf courses, golden beaches and a sea teeming with sharks, seals and dolphins. After stopping to take photos and observe a submarine sneaking through the 12-mile stretch of water separating the Irish mainland and Scotland, I realised I’d struggle to make my tee-off time at Ballycastle Golf Club.
I need not have worried.
Around these parts, time is a vague promise, not a life-defining deadline. On phoning to say I’d be late I was told: “Take your time.
We’ll fit you in.’’
Consequently, when I arrived at Ballycastle’s Marine Hotel, down the road from the course, I was in holiday mode. I’d been ‘Irelanded’.
My top floor suite was bathed in light and had a beach view, walk-in shower and cheeky bath in the
bedroom – room 119 for anyone fancying a soak overlooking the sea.
At the marina-facing bistro I tucked into the first of several Irish seafood chowders. It was also my first of many tangles with giants. The portion was enormous and topped with local seaweed called dulse – a spicy, salty delight which tastes way better than it looks.
When I reached the course it was mid-afternoon and 27C.
Rachel in the pro shop suggested a buggy and as I climbed to the top I was thankful.
The views are amazing. On a clear day you can see not only Rathlin Island – where a hiding-out Robert the Bruce was famously inspired by the persistence of a web-spinning spider – but the Scottish mainland from the elevated 10th tee.
Dating back to 1890, the course is a challenging combination of
Around these parts, time is a vague promise, not a life-defining deadline