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A Round with Royalty

Queen’s Courses (Perthshire, Scotland)

By: Naimah Jabali-Nash

(page 1 of 3)

The vast Perthshire countryside covers northern Scotland like a patchwork quilt. Historic threads are embroidered into each swatch of land. Sir William Wallace’s valiant Battle of Stirling Bridge, the complexity of Mary Queen of Scots or Old Tom Morris’ Open Championships in the Kingdom of Fife can be traced along seams of crawling brush. Sluggish winter-white sheep graze in pasture and multicolored wildflowers peek through wispy fescue. I forced myself to take in these natural embellishments while approaching the Firth of Forth Bridge.

I had long dreamt of playing golf in Scotland. A week ago, I sat with my room mate for a thrilling night in front of the television watching The Notebook. My sister walked in and interrupted what I thought to be a climatic scene (the one in the rain after the boat ride). “I’ve got some news,” she said with a sly grin on her face. “Wait until commercial,” I retorted (obviously I was busy). “Ok. But it involves the British Open,” she sang walking out of the room. And she immediately caught attention. Her friend invited her to Scotland for a week of golf, a bit of scotch tasting, golf and a day at the spa—followed with more golf. My sister doesn’t have an athletic bone in her body, or if she does, I’ve never seen it. The thought of her standing on sacred golf soil in her Manolo Blahniks was unnerving. I’m sure she sensed the lifelessness in my voice when I replied, “Well, have a good time.” Days before she was to depart on this golf-centric excursion, feeling charitable, my sister decided to trade in one Swedish massage to fulfill her little sister’s dreams. And for that I am grateful.

 

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