On a par with giants
beautiful parkland and links. By the final holes I felt I was playing like Tiger and headed to dinner with that familiarly short-lived feeling I’d cracked this game.
But I was in true golfing country – even the village estate agent is called McIlroy – and over chowder and Guinness in O’Connors Bar locals put the fear of God into me about the next day’s challenge at Castlerock.
“Take some balls – in every sense,’’ chuckled one.
After a hotel breakfast featuring white pudding so good I brought some home, I headed further along the coast, dropping in on Ballintoy harbour which appeared in Game Of Thrones.
Next I sought out a real giant. Formed 60 million years ago by volcanic eruption, the Giant’s Causeway features 40,000 interlocking mainly hexagonal basalt columns, the tops of which form stepping stones leading out from the cliff foot.
From there I dropped in on another giant – of the whiskey industry.
Bushmills is one of the country’s top exports and its distillery is in the coastal village of the same name.
I arrived at Castlerock ready for a record round. It was. I’ve never played worse, but that was no fault of an exceptional course that poses a true test even in perfect conditions.
Later I tucked into fish and chips on the beach in Portrush itself before rebuilding my game at the Roe Park in Limavady.
Voted the country’s best golf resort two years running it’s easy to see why with its generous rooms and fabulous health spa.
The broader, forgiving fairways of the parkland course helped me rediscover my form.
One fantastic steak in its Coach House Brasserie later and I headed to Derry.
Its famous walls were built in the 17th century to keep out the English but luckily times have changed and it was named the UK’s first city of culture in 2013.
The 770ft Peace Bridge – built across the River Foyle 10 years ago to mark Ireland’s new harmony – is spectacularly lit at night.
Next morning I visited Gortmore, which offers clear-day views of the Scottish isles of Islay and Jura and an up-close one of a sculpture of local sea god Manannán Mac Lir.
On my way home I squeezed in a final nine holes at Templepatrick golf club in the shadow of Belfast airport.
The 7,000-yard track is packed with lakes, dykes and hazards.
I felt I stepped straight off the course onto the plane, where I swiftly determined one aspect of my Northern Ireland adventure would most definitely NOT be giant – the time gap until my return.