We cross the border to England, from Open-land to the land of gammon steaks. In front of us is Berwick-upon-Tweed Goswick links. High summer with no irrigation systems. We look out over sunburnt fairways in concrete-class 3. The members have brought with them all their garden hoses and connected them together into one giant hose that stretches round a single hole. They are positioned around two counter-clockwise nines, which start and stop at the clubhouse with a high ridge facing the sea. We fill our bags with more water than a camel and head for the 1st up on the ridge. The 2nd – a par 3 – links delight – has a classic links ravine with waiting rock-hard green.
No2, Berwick upon Tweed
On the 3rd – par 5 – we hit long and land on the 7th tee. The Secretary from the happy 80s greets us, “Welcome to Muirfield’s look-alike,” as we head for the green A well-directed drive finds the rough, a simple lay up bounces down into a fairway bunker, the greens shake off any attempt to approach, and a simple two-putt becomes a three – you can call me TOUGH. LINKS75 cannot make par – it’s not possible! After the first nine we seek comfort in some melted English chocolates, change balls, slap each other’s faces, choose a lower club and hit as hard as our tattooed friends in the group behind. Already on the 11th it brings results – a par! The 12th – pure links – has a huge, leaning slope that takes all attacking balls to the right, a half-blind green and a waiting double church-bell green – delight! On the 14th – a par 4 – we test Stenson’s 4-iron and score a simple par – cured?
Best par 4 at Goswick Links, No14
The 15th – a par 3 – has a bathtub green and a mishit 8-iron almost goes in the hole. We bounce along. The 17th – a par 5 – we are on in 2 – silence – actions – applause! The last hole remains. All morning we had sat and studied how the members coped with this short, well-bunkered finishing hole. High tee shot – 250 yards – par 4 – straight at the clubhouse. We long for a birdie, set our tees low, swing hard and score par. As dry as dust we cross the savannah towards a cold shower and a Belhaven Black.
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