Golf in Scotland and those fucking Midges again!

Day 6 - May 30th

Oban was chosen as a destination as it was the ferry point to get over to the Isle of Iona. This was another stop on the ‘spiritual journey’ for Mum, so Claire and I decided to leave her to her own devices.

Given we had been carrying a set of golf clubs all the way through Scotland without been taken out, I was itching at the chance of getting a round in. As we are on a £40 per day budget, I had agreed to not play a round of golf at St Andrews, so opted for the next best thing and played at Glencruittan golf club.

Now St Andrews may be the home of golf, host the British open now again and have played part in some of the most historic golf moments of all time, but I can guarantee you would have not had a cat follow you from holes 1 to 3 to watch your game.

Yes, you heard me right – a cat.

Claire and Golf Moggy!

As I prepared to putt for par on the first green, a cat came bounding out of the bushes and up to the edge of the green to say hello to Claire.

It then joined me to tee off on the second, followed me down the fairway to the green and then over to the 3^rd tee!

3rd Tee at Glencruittan - the cat is out of the shot watching in awe.

After golf we had a few hours to kill while we waited for Mum to return to decided to catch up on a few emails in the local pub and sort out the remaining odds and ends we needed to tie up in the UK before we left.

We then headed to Carnavan Sands to tidy up the van and finally get the bike out for a spin. The bike went like a dream and it was great zipping around the Scottish coastal roads, although it didn’t last long as the rain came in and made riding a little bit miserable.

After collecting mum from the ferry port we headed back down south towards Glasgow as we had a long drive over the coming few days to get Maxi into the mechanic for a cam belt and power steering change.

Now, why we decided to camp in the same spot that we were attacked by midge’s days earlier, I fail to understand. But we did.

On this occasion we were a little more prepared – i.e. we didn’t go outside, but pretty much spent the better half of the evening trying to kill the little bastards only to find that they were coming in through the skylight fly wire.

Sleep that night was a little restless as both Claire and I imagined that we had midges coming in biting us. Looking at our bodies the next morning, seemed to suggest that it was our mind playing tricks on us, as we didn’t have too many bites. I guess it’s like when you see a couple of ants and immediately start to scratch yourself.