Today started leisurely. Our starting time was for 10:37 at the Buddon Course, a smaller course at Carnoustie. We were so delighted with our round yesterday that we booked a round on Buddon just so we could look longingly over the fence at the Championship course as we played.
The Buddon Course is shorter, but beautiful and with a huge pond that comes into play on several holes. There are lots of thoroughly challenging par 3’s and just three par 5’s. A lovely course, really. And the pace of play was perfect— as was the weather. Big news, the sun was out and we both took off our jackets! First time in two and a half weeks. So how Scottish then, that on the 18th tee box, the skies darkened with spits of rain. By the time we got to the green, it was sprinkling. By the time we putted out, we were digging for waterproofs. By the time we go to the clubhouse, we were running for cover!
Once again, we chose to eat here rather than our lovely B&B and their mucky dinners. (Breakfast is fabulous, however. Check out the coffee machine!) Up in the Rookery Restaurant, I followed up on an idea from last year. I asked the bar tender if she had any empty whisky bottles. Empty? She was confused. Yes, that you’re about to toss. In a minute, she came back with a lovely bottle of Glencallan whisky. When we were halfway through our soup, the boss came by with the cork and the box for the bottle! It’s lovely and ready to pack in my luggage. Bets on whether it makes it to LA without breaking? Apparently, I picked a local brand with a nearby distillery! John checked their hours and found that they are temporarily closed to visitors. ☹️
We had a great time watching golfers tee off in the rain and seeing all the sorts of people who have come so far to play here. In the sea of men, two women teed off! Then guys, guys, guys, everyone with caddies. Then a group without any caddies. It was fun to see the tee shots and remember all our stories from yesterday. Nice place, Carnoustie as seen from the Rookery.
At 3:00 I remembered the Single Tower Museum and checked the time. We thanked the staff for all their efforts and retrieved our wet jackets from a heated closet where they had dried—ahh, Carnoustie— and raced to the car. Driving carefully but speedily, John got us there in time, just in time to see the gate close. I jumped out of the car, “But we still have 30 minutes, don’t we?” The answer was no. There was a private party scheduled for today. And behind her, right on cue, the bagpipe started to play. We might come back tomorrow on our way out of town. It really looks like a lovely museum.
