We had a slow start because we didn’t have a plan for the day besides our very precious game of golf scheduled for the only time we could manage, 4:50pm. Trying to play 18 holes before dark was going to be tricky— and the Tain parade would start at 8 pm. To fill the hours until then, we asked our extremely resourceful manager what she’d advise. She said, “Go to Lairg. They’re having a Croft Fair today.” We had no idea what a “Croft Fair” might be, but it sounded local and real. Nothing touristy about it so we were in!
Sixteen minutes later, we arrived in the wee town of Lairg and followed the windy road and signs leading us down a dirt road. There, a big farmer-fellow (cheerful with missing teeth) greeted us. Parking was on a green, grassy field. This was such a small fair, that we only had to walk through three rows of cars to get to the first event—the dog show! Just tear a page out of the illustrated James Herriot and there you have it. Young kids, parents, and older folks were all there with their dolled-up pups, doing the walk, sit, and whatever. We loved it that the little girl in shorts and a silver jacket won a pink ribbon that she wore for the rest of the day. And the older lady with the Pom Pom hat won with her Pomeranian. They looked alike! So charming, but we had to move on.
Next, were machines including the older threshing machine that John recognized from his grandfather’s farm. And the honey tent with lots of homemade goodies…the highland dancers, the BMX riders and the spinner (Janice McKay) who talked to us like discovered relatives because we share the same maiden name— Wilson. What a lovely morning.
From there, we went into Dornoch and directly to the course. This would be our fourth visit and third round here, and as always, we wonder, is this our last? As we drove closer, however, we were diverted to a long and circuitous path. Finally, like the Croft Fair, we ended up in a grassy “car park” close to the course and facing—shock and horror— the beginnings of a new clubhouse! Beyond the practice green and near the first tee were the tall flag poles and the old clubhouse, Tutor style and so charming. A new clubhouse— who needs new— is part of the sudden upsurge in traffic here from all the Americans? Once again, don’t tell your friends!
We found the town unchanged and delightful. We retraced our steps from last year and went directly to the Highland Hospice Charity Shop where I quickly bought another tartan skirt. All ready for new head covers for someone!
Our caddie today was Fraser O’Neil, a big guy with good advice. I parred the first hole and had several great holes. John played his best round so far. Our lovely playing partners, Juliet and Keith, kept pace with their own strong games as we raced the light. The weather was cold, but the skies were pink and blue at the 9th, and darkening by the minute after that.
Hole 9 is definitely a favorite for views which Tom Watson noted in his rounds here. He also said that #2 (3) was the shortest par 5 in Scotland. Ha ha! This is a course that sometimes ripples in giant swells down the fairway. “Catch a wave” and your ball goes an extra 75. Catch a trough, and you stop short. The greens are gorgeous and views from every hole are splendid. Sigh and goodbye. How fitting that we putted out in near blackness at 9 pm.
Another event that I longed for today was the Highland Parade, schedule for 8pm in the town square. So, how delightful to hear the pipe and drums from the 12 th hole on growing louder as we played toward town. And we’d already seen the dancers at the Croft fair—so there you have it. A perfect day!!
