Along the low Ayrshire coast it is all boats and fishing and drinking your ale or "whusky" and going to the kirk. Between times, it is golfing. Everyone plays. The courses string out among the dunes like a ribbon spattered green and gray-green with the white flecks of bunkers through it, so that they say you can play a ball all the 20 miles from Ayr up to Ardrossan without leaving the fairway. Last week, at Troon, which is hard by Prestwick* and not so far southwest of Glasgow, Britain's golfing women inarched...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In