Scotscraig

The Scotscraig Golf Club was founded in 1817, making it the thirteenth oldest golf club on the planet. The clubhouse, a white building with a red tile roof, dates to 1903. Trophy cases in the mixed grill room were loaded with hardware. We showed up about an hour before our tee time. We would have been there earlier but we took the "scenic" route.
The folks in the pro shop were very accommodating. They accepted payment for a 2:30 tee time. They are currently running a special, £120 for a foursome after 1:30 pm on the weekends. What a deal!! They directed us to the mixed grill room where we could pick up lunch before we headed out for our first round in Scotland. The barmaid was outgoing and friendly and saw to it that all of our culinary needs were satisfied.
We then headed to the first tee, which was pretty quiet at that time of day. Only a few groups went out after we did. The first hole, The Admiral,  is a parr 4 that doglegs ever so slightly to the left. It has a generous landing area. The hole has no bunkers and most of is protection comes from mounds and humps in the fairway. Though not a true links course as it is about a quarter mile from the sea, Scotscraig has many features that play like that way. As we had all arrived from the States that morning with little sleep, The Admiral didn't need much to protect itself from our attack. The breeze was strong, the gorse thick and the rough deep; it was going to be a long day of golf. We didn't care, we were paying our first round of golf in Scotland!
As the day proceeded, our golf didn't improve. We hit the ball hither and yon, into the gorse, trees, out of bounds, and into deep bunkers. For a short time, during the playing of the ninth and tenth holes, is rained; more than a shower, less than a downpour. It didn't dampen our spirits though because we were playing golf in Scotland!
The first nine holes play much like a links course, the second nine more like a parkland course. The latter even has a pond! We never hit the wall, that point on your first day of golf in Scotland after the overnight plane flight, where you just want to sit down and give up. Was it the excitement, the cool breeze? We were tired, but not hit-the-wall tired. Looking back to the score card I can document that I was tired. I never put down scores for the ninth and eighteenth holes. Yikes, the scores were bad enough already! Driving the 11 miles back to our flat is where I hit the wall. Damn did I want out of that car.
I have no pictures of the course. Perhaps DLux of WA or DLux of OH will add a few to this post.