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Four Americans have the walk of a lifetime playing golf in Ireland

The sun sets over the mountains and sea behind Ballyliffin Golf Club. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
The sun sets over the mountains and sea behind Ballyliffin Golf Club. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

IRELAND – I had no idea how any of this might go.

Take three golf buddies from different circles, shake them up for 10 days in a packed Euro van, squeeze them down skinny roads and release them into the constant winds and sometimes rains of northwest Ireland. What could possibly go wrong?

Each of the three knew about links golf in general. The kind of stuff you see each year during the British Open: firm ground, brown turf, a bit of breeze, funny bounces. It almost always looks so much more manageable on the broadcasts.

I knew better. I had lived it on past trips. Early wake-up calls to reach a course just in time. No warm-ups. No chance for a real lunch between rounds. Twelve-plus miles a day on foot to play 36 among steep sand dunes on courses that might be hours apart. A hit-and-get type of golf, head down in a squall trying not to lose sight of the local foursome in front of you. The smell of a van filled with wet bodies, wet golf shoes and wet grass. Take-out supper after a late sunset. All on repeat, day after glorious day, and don’t be late to the van at sunrise tomorrow.

Short, rugged and enthralling, Cruit Island Golf Club takes players on a nine-hole jaunt to the edges of cliffs and back again. The course is well off the beaten path, which makes it even better. It’s the type of place that had our group repeating that we could stay here all week, going round and round despite the weather. (Tim Schmitt/Golfweek)
Short, rugged and enthralling, Cruit Island Golf Club takes players on a nine-hole jaunt to the edges of cliffs and back again. The course is well off the beaten path, which makes it even better. It’s the type of place that had our group repeating that we could stay here all week, going round and round despite the weather. (Tim Schmitt/Golfweek)

This trip would be 12 rounds in eight days around the northwest rim of Ireland with one day on each side to arrive and depart. We’d spend more than 25 hours in the van, driving more than a thousand miles total on those frequently tiny Irish roads, me listening to snores from the back seat as I muttered to myself to “Keep left, keep left, keep left” at each of the hundreds of roundabouts along our path.

Yes, I’m a glutton for punishment. And I planned to subject my three newbie links golfers to every bit of my golf neurosis, because the rewards for all this driving, the walking, the summer storms and the smells emanating from the back of the van were the stuff of halcyon golf dreams.

Ballyliffin, the Old Links and Glashedy Links. St. Patrick’s Links. Portsalon. Sandy Hills Links. Cruit Island. Narin & Portnoo. Donegal. Strandhill. Enniscrone. County Sligo. And the one I chose to end the trip, in case the plane home went down: Carne.

The 12 courses played over eight days of golf in Ireland (Jason Lusk/Golfweek illustration with a Google Earth map)
The 12 courses played over eight days of golf in Ireland (Jason Lusk/Golfweek illustration with a Google Earth map)

I’d seen most of these courses before, and I couldn’t wait to show my buddies. To be honest, I was probably annoyingly eager. I live for this kind of golf. But would the other guys? None of them had done this type of trip. They’re American golfers. Maybe eighteen holes a week. A bucket of balls to warm up each day. Riding carts. Friendly courses built to keep traffic flowing. Soft fairways and receptive greens. Beverage carts and flop shots.

I warned them what they were in for. And I figured they were adults, so they could be responsible for whatever foot or back pain I inflicted. In the planning stages of this trip, I would chuckle at the thought of how their perspectives would change. I also would cringe when I thought of what could go wrong between all the driving, the six different hotels with shared quarters, the weather and the relentless schedule.

First to commit was my frequent golf partner Krash, whose real name is Chung Kim. Don’t ask about the nickname, because in 17 years of playing alongside him, I’ve never really received an adequate origin story. An attorney in Orlando, Krash is frequently game for a Sunday tee time, and he might break 80 twice a year. Fairly short but mostly straight off the tee with a low flight, Krash’s game seemed purpose-built for Irish golf.

Next up was Matt Richardson, an Orlando-area accountant. We played high school golf together and were roommates in our college years and beyond, but he doesn’t play as much golf these days – there are too many fish to catch and ducks to hunt. But over the ball, something magical happens. All the speed in the world somehow finds its way into his swing. Less than 10 rounds a year and over 50 years old, he still swings driver at 120-mph-plus if his shoulders cooperate. High, far and occasionally wayward, he can keep it around par on a good day. I couldn’t wait to see where his sky-high tee shots landed in a 30-mph crosswind, for better or worse.

The group – from left: Jason Lusk, Krash Kim, Tim Schmitt and Matt Richardson – wraps up at Carne. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
The group – from left: Jason Lusk, Krash Kim, Tim Schmitt and Matt Richardson – wraps up at Carne. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

We’d be joined by Tim Schmitt, my boss at Golfweek. An upstate New Yorker now living in Austin, Tim’s a casual, social golfer when the opportunity presents itself. He might not know his score on any given day, but he can break 80 if the planets align. In the handful of times we had played golf together, usually at the Winter Park 9 when he’s in my hometown of Orlando, he always seems happy just to be out there. That’s an invaluable trait when the rain blows in sideways on Day 6 of a golf trip.

And that leaves me, a supposedly scratch golfer with a year-long case of the chip yips. I’ve been fortunate enough to play many of the best courses around the world, but at home I mostly play a $50 daily-fee track. I’ve embraced old-man golf, I can hit a skinny fairway and I love my hybrids. Don’t ask about my putting. For this trip, I would be the organizer, the van driver, the herder and probably a pain in the ass as I kept reminding the other three that we needed to keep up with the group in front.

I had an ace up my sleeve, though. I booked this trip through Lyons Links, an Irish and UK golf booking agent. Unlike many of my trips as a travel writer where I piece together rounds and hotel rooms on my own, I was counting on Lyons Links’ Colm Crowley and Cian Booth to set up the tee times and hotel rooms. They delivered exactly what I was looking for: 207 sandy, seaside golf holes and a selection of great rooms. I was planning to walk my guys into the ground, and they needed comfortable beds to fall into each night.

Jason Lusk, to the left of Matt Richardson, tried to strike a balance on this trip between walking the group into the ground and taking time to see Irish life away from the course. (Tim Schmitt/Golfweek)
Jason Lusk, to the left of Matt Richardson, tried to strike a balance on this trip between walking the group into the ground and taking time to see Irish life away from the course. (Tim Schmitt/Golfweek)

Tim, Krash and I rode the same flight from Charlotte, North Carolina, to Dublin, meeting Matt at the airport early on a Saturday morning to get the trip started. After loading the rental van in a game of golf bag Jenga, we slow-rolled into an Irish downpour.

Headed north to Derry, I didn’t know what to expect as I white-knuckled the steering wheel. Would everyone get along? Would the golf impress, as I had promised? Would the skies clear? Could we keep up? Would somebody have a tantrum after one too many soggy rounds, one too many fruitless searches for a ball in the native Irish scrub?

As it turned out, I needn’t have worried at all.

Why head to the north and west of Ireland?

This ball hit by Krash Kim rolled and rolled until it splashed into a narrow burn at County Sligo Golf Club, also known as Rosses Point. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
This ball hit by Krash Kim rolled and rolled until it splashed into a narrow burn at County Sligo Golf Club, also known as Rosses Point. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

Here’s the question: Why north and northwest Ireland?

Why not the southwest of the island? That region is full of famous links courses: Ballybunion, Waterville, Tralee, Lahinch, Old Head and the like. The list goes on and on. The southwest is the closest thing to a gimme you might find in Ireland, seeing as how the locals make each other putt out everything.

Tourists started arriving in the southwest in force several decades ago and the tour buses haven’t stopped rolling, full of Americans who are guaranteed to find unforgettable golf, lively pubs and experienced travel operators. Simply put, the southwest of Ireland is a dream.

But therein lies a problem: Too many Americans with the same dream of Irish golf. Especially since “revenge travel” became a thing after COVID locked up the island nearly four years ago, tee times have become harder to secure at many of the most famous links in the southwest. Rates have rocketed. A visiting golfer needs to plan a trip many months or even a year out to guarantee preferred tee times.

The courses of the southwest have become famous, and deservedly so. But as is often the case, fame comes at a cost, and in this example those expenses sometimes include encountering too many of my fellow countrymen along the way. I don’t travel to Ireland to see Americans – I could stay home for that.

In contrast, the north and northwest coasts of Ireland are relatively unscathed by an overabundance of international tourists. Go into a pub and it’s all Irish voices. Many of the courses see a multitude more of membership rounds than guest play.

It’s a bonus that American and other international golfers, while incredibly welcomed, are still a relative rarity along the coast we traveled on this trip. In 10 days of solid golf and travel, my foursome encountered only two other groups of Americans.

“The fact that there were so many times we turned to each other and said, ‘I think we might be the only people on these nine holes right now,’ playing in this unbelievable setting, that’s a pretty special thing to still get that,” Tim said. “You don’t get that at many American resorts or courses. The fact that you could not only be in a place that’s so beautiful, but feel like it was your own, is really special.”

And while the northern courses, for the most part, are not as famous as those in the southwest, they are every bit as beautiful, as windblown, as firm and fast and bouncy. There’s no letdown in the golf experience.

Having opened in 1995, the Glashedy layout is the newer of the two courses at Ballyliffin, its dunes having hosted top-tier events such as the 2018 Irish Open. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Having opened in 1995, the Glashedy layout is the newer of the two courses at Ballyliffin, its dunes having hosted top-tier events such as the 2018 Irish Open. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

Yes, I know there’s a bit of irony at play here, the American fresh off holiday writing to tell more Americans to go visit a region of Ireland that doesn’t see as many Americans. So I’ll let John Farren, the general manager of Ballyliffin Golf Club, sum it up for any golfers looking for a new Irish travel experience.

“Some tour operators (in the southwest) have become comfortable,” said Farren, who arrived at Ballyliffin in 2004. “And they’re on autopilot, because they’ve been dealing with those courses for 30-odd years, dealing with particular hotels down there for 30-odd years. It’s a comfort zone down there, and they’re just piling them in, busload upon busload. They’re less familiar with the product up here. …

“I suppose the key thing is, you can trust that the quality of the experience here is second to none. In my humble opinion, our presentation standards are as good as anywhere in the world, in terms of links golf. It can be a leap of faith to come this far north, but we can assure that though it may be a road less traveled, it is a road worth traveling.”

Took the words right out of my mouth.

And we\'re off

Portsalon plays tight to one of the prettiest beaches in Ireland. It’s a mix of tight classic links holes and a few more modern holes inland toward the end of the round. With almost too much golf on the schedule, we missed the chance to explore the town, a mistake that won’t be made next time. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Portsalon plays tight to one of the prettiest beaches in Ireland. It’s a mix of tight classic links holes and a few more modern holes inland toward the end of the round. With almost too much golf on the schedule, we missed the chance to explore the town, a mistake that won’t be made next time. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

So we didn’t have to worry about too many crowds, too many other Americans or – with our Lyons Links itinerary in hand – too much of anything else. There was, however, one thing weighing on my mind: the driving.

This kind of trip requires hours in the van, divided up into serviceable daily chunks but still more than 1,000 miles in all, many of them on curvy two-lane roads in the rain, each of them on the opposite side of the road from where I’m most comfortable. I’ve driven around Ireland, Scotland and other international left-side driving destinations before, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be a natural at an Irish roundabout.

For the most part, on previous trips I was in a car alone, and I wasn’t too worried about killing myself by diving to the right into a traffic circle, directly into the grill of a lorry. But I didn’t want to take the other three guys with me.

Filling the Euro van with luggage and golf bags proved to be a game of Jenga, but it worked out. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Filling the Euro van with luggage and golf bags proved to be a game of Jenga, but it worked out. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

My advice: Hire a driver if you’re not comfortable. Yes, it’s more expensive. Also yes, it’s safer for Americans who lack confidence on these frequently tiny roads. The Irish golf is to die for, but hiring a driver is a safe bet against meeting such a fate in a compact rental car. Especially if a few pints are a daily part of your plan, a contracted driver is the way to go.

As our jumbo jet landed in Dublin, my consternation grew as we broke through the clouds into what can only be described as biblical weather. The ground crew rushing out to service our plane looked like drowned rats, the taxiing area covered not so much by puddles as a consistent sheet of water.

Turns out, we were arriving on the tail end of the rainiest July on record in Ireland. It rained four times as much in July 2023 as it did in the same month of the previous year and twice as much as it did in July 2021. We expected plenty of weather in Ireland, of course, but this was a whole other level. The storm that greeted us upon arrival in Dublin moved into London over the next several days, causing extreme flooding in spots.

After a quick trip through customs and a long head-scratching effort to overload the van, we set off, finally free to see Ireland. And the Irish spirits smiled, the skies clearing on our ride up to Derry. An old cliché states that if you don’t like the weather in Ireland, just wait 15 minutes for it to change. It took twice that for things to improve on our drive north, but by the time we reached our lodging for the night, the sun was out and we were free to stroll the town as it shook off a month of the wet.

An obvious confession: We’re basically a bunch of old men, and we weren’t going to set any pub crawl records. Two of our group no longer drink alcohol, and we others don’t go too hard at the bar these days. It might not be the kind of Irish trip many Americans imagine, but our relative sobriety made for easy drives, comfortable dinners and a complete lack of drama. It also made it much easier to make those early-morning tee times.

Ballyliffin’s Old Links plays close to the shore with incredibly rumpled fairways that were hand-cleared by original members. (Tim Schmitt/Golfweek)
Ballyliffin’s Old Links plays close to the shore with incredibly rumpled fairways that were hand-cleared by original members. (Tim Schmitt/Golfweek)

Round 1 was slated for Ballyliffin’s Old Links, and after a greeting by Farren (who came in on his day off to see us away) and his staff, we headed to the first tee. Having been built by hand by the club’s members in the 1970s, this layout is not as ancient as that Old Course at St. Andrews on the opposite side of the Irish sea, but its beautifully rumpled fairways would provide one of the least-steep tests for our group while serving up a perfect intro to links golf.

After an obligatory series of “This is cool” and “Wow, look at that” comments from the newbs, we teed off into the breeze on No. 1 and even managed to find all four golf balls. That wouldn’t always be the case on Day 1. Or on the rest of the trip, for that matter. After all the rain in previous weeks, the rough at most courses was thick enough to lose your shoes even with them tied tight to your feet.

Tim adapted first, willing to help the others search for a ball in knee-high rough but quick to just drop another ball when one of his own drives scurried offline. Krash wasn’t far behind, learning how to keep moving after a front nine that included him dropping his rangefinder on a fairway and having to scamper back some 500 yards to retrieve it. Matt was doing Matt things, blasting balls that either wowed with their velocity or caused a head shake as they slammed into 30-mph crosswinds and turned sideways.

A group of ladies was fast on our tail during that first round, and I kept pushing our group to keep the pace, frequently sounding like a captain on a crew boat reminding everyone to “row, row, row.” It would take us a couple days to speed up to the point where I needn’t worry about backing up a golf course, which would be very un-Irish – these folks learn to play fast before the next bit of weather arrives. We didn’t do too bad, overall, although that foursome of ladies might disagree.

Despite each of my guys having played golf for decades, all this was semi-foreign to them. You can read about links conditions or watch events on TV, but until you see your own pitch shot land right where you wanted but then keep rolling and rolling and rolling into a 6-foot-deep pot bunker, you don’t appreciate how firm the ground can be on these sandy coastal courses. There’s a learning curve that’s curvier for some than for others.

But we were off, and life couldn’t have been better. Krash summed it up nicely after one round.

“I’m exhausted, but in a good way,” he said to Tim as we ambled toward the van after a quick dinner in the clubhouse, the sky all reds and oranges with the sun setting over the North Atlantic. “This was awesome. … Can you believe this place?”

And that was just Day 1.

Walk, swing, walk, eat, walk, sleep

The new St. Patrick’s Links at Rosapenna was designed by American architect Tom Doak amid amazing dunes, with a long crescent of beach separating the course from the sea. Opened in 2021, the course has become a must-see among the top-ranked layouts in Ireland. (Tim Schmitt/Golfweek)
The new St. Patrick’s Links at Rosapenna was designed by American architect Tom Doak amid amazing dunes, with a long crescent of beach separating the course from the sea. Opened in 2021, the course has become a must-see among the top-ranked layouts in Ireland. (Tim Schmitt/Golfweek)

And so began the trip of a lifetime. Yes, that phrase is often overused. And yes, it’s true in this case.

Over the next four days we would play two courses each day before settling down to just one course a day for the final three. We would play through sunshine, rain, light breezes, gusting wind and even hail – sometimes each of those in the span of three holes.

Legs would grow tired, feet would ache, golf balls would be lost. And still we kept marching, determined to make the most of each step and every swing. In short, my buddies were getting into this as much as I was.

Of the four of us, Matt at times struggled most with his game and his expectations. He went through bouts of the lefts as he tried to knock down shots. A golf swing with that much power tends to generate plenty of spin, and sidespin can be a killer in these kinds of wind. Matt has played long enough and at a high enough skill level that, like many good golfers, he focuses mostly on his bad swings. But there were plenty of good ones, too, despite his mid-round observation on Day 6 that “I just can’t play golf anymore. I just can’t. It’s impossible.”

What was his take on it all?

Narin & Portnoo, renovated by the American team of Gil Hanse and Jim Wagner, presents a great walk up and down sandy hills alongside the sea. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Narin & Portnoo, renovated by the American team of Gil Hanse and Jim Wagner, presents a great walk up and down sandy hills alongside the sea. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

“The most interesting thing is the severity of the slopes,” Matt said. “In pictures, it looks very smooth and undulating and serene. Once you get out there, it’s quite a different story. The firmness of the fairways was what I expected, but the slopes are bigger. We know TV kind of flattens things out, by my goodness, it was quite different.”

But he found moments of salvation, such as at Strandhill mid-trip. His swing tightened up perfectly and all the vectors aligned on the back nine, and he clobbered me in a scorecard match-up by keeping it out of the tall stuff.

“The rough is atrocious, and I just recommend staying out of it,” he said with a wry grin in typical measured understatement. That comment came, of course, at the end of the trip after he had misplaced some two dozen golf balls. He said he can’t wait for another shot at the place.

Krash Kim launches one over the water and rocks on a cliffside par 3 at Cruit Island. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Krash Kim launches one over the water and rocks on a cliffside par 3 at Cruit Island. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

Krash, as I expected, was a natural. He didn’t set any course records, but he mostly kept the ball in play with tumbling drives and approaches. Normally a once-a-week player if he’s lucky enough to avoid the courthouse, the lawyer loosened up after a couple rounds and starting making a full turn unlike anything he does back home.

And he couldn’t stop enjoying the place. Normally quiet and reserved but with a quick and biting wit when the perfect opportunity presents itself, this Irish version of Krash was all smiles and clubhouse chats with strangers – the golfers at home in Florida wouldn’t have recognized him with his cellphone constantly out of the bag for photos as he strolled behind an electric push cart.

“I must have taken thousands of photos and videos,” Krash said at the end of the trip. “There wasn’t a hole where I didn’t want to take a picture. I mean, it was mind-blowing.”

Tim had his camera out often as well, but many of his golf shots impressed even more than his photos. His swing is home-made, elbows and knees sometimes bent into wonky angles that matched that one crooked leg on his golf stand bag. But he’s a natural athlete, and his swing held up the whole trip as he developed a bit of feel for the links game. In particular, his chipping impressed, a clipped little 9-iron quickly becoming his go-to shot around the greens as he racked up par after par.

“It’s a totally different game,” Tim said. “I’m not a great player, and I hit the ball fairly high. You have to learn fairly quickly that’s just not going to work here because you have no idea where it’s going to go if you do that. I actually loved it, because I think it evens the playing field a little bit.”

Enniscrone Golf Club plays across a point of land between the sea and a bay, up and down the best kind of gigantic dunes. (Courtesy of Enniscrone Golf Club)
Enniscrone Golf Club plays across a point of land between the sea and a bay, up and down the best kind of gigantic dunes. (Courtesy of Enniscrone Golf Club)

Near the end of the trip, Tim spoke about setting up a remote office in Ireland for a summer so he might better learn the links game. I volunteered to return as van driver, hustling us back to the office each morning to report for work on a U.S. schedule that’s five hours behind. Our trip frequently sparked such talk between courses – when you’re this deeply entrenched in such a setting for days on end, it’s difficult to think of returning to the 9-to-5 with so little golf.

All this is familiar to links veterans, from the need to keep the ball down and in play to the urge to return quickly. It was a blast to watch such sentiments develop in my group of first-timers, no matter the weather or the state of our swings.

About the only thing we never spoke of was score for any round. We were learning that in Ireland, the scorecard is the least important piece of gear. When the locals ask, “How’d you get on?”, they could care less what you shot. They genuinely seem to want to know about what you felt.

Anybody have a favorite?

Carne is one of the great rugged and wild golf experiences in the world. Tall grasses, huge dunes, wind, rain, sunshine, 
ocean – it all combines into a can’t-miss experience. (Courtesy of Carne Golf Links)
Carne is one of the great rugged and wild golf experiences in the world. Tall grasses, huge dunes, wind, rain, sunshine, ocean – it all combines into a can’t-miss experience. (Courtesy of Carne Golf Links)

After the first couple of days, what we felt the most was our feet. You can’t escape it – 36 holes day after day takes a toll on everything south of your knees. My No. 1 tip to Americans eager to try this kind of trip: Don’t skimp on your shoes, and don’t bring new shoes you’ve never worn in – trust me, nobody in Ireland cares if there’s a bit of wear to your footwear.

But it hardly mattered as we worked our way west along the coast. The courses and the rounds just rolled into a continuous loop of perfection, broken up only by the many incredible meals. Americans still hear about bad food in Ireland and the UK, but those notions are largely out of date – from fish pies to beef, appetizers to dessert, the Irish clubhouse chefs have upped their games to match the quality of the courses. Almost every meal was a chance for Krash to explain in detail, as he studied his entree, that this was the best thing he has had to eat in years. Even better than yesterday’s lunch.

And it wasn’t all golf or time in the van. Stops in Derry (also known as Londonderry on the UK side of the Ireland-Northern Ireland line) and Sligo were chances to shake off the travel and golf, to stroll through the old buildings and riverfronts to sample a bit of Irish life. Both towns were full, weddings frequently pulling in people from around the surrounding countrysides to celebrate in the pubs. Tim and I were able to sneak out for a few pints amid the music scene in Sligo, getting just a small taste of what other than golf draws so many Americans to Ireland. But chasing golf balls consumed most of the days, and my guys were holding up just fine.

So many memories piled up. Krash running after his escaping electric push cart at County Sligo, or Matt nearly running out of golf balls at Enniscrone. The caddies’ stories at Nairn & Portnoo. The all-over-everywhere scenery. The golf holes alongside the towns. The sense of isolation at Carne. Individual good shots or bad shots might be mostly forgotten, because in this part of the world the swings are not what matter most.

The dunes, the ocean views, the wayward shots, the laughs – they all forge in the mind a sense of gratification in experiencing something so sublime. It’s not the kind of thing you could explain to anyone who isn’t a golfer, but those who have dived into days on end of links golf have surely sensed it.

We followed the first round at Ballyliffin’s Old Links by climbing the dunes the next day on the club’s Glashedy Links, where the wind and elevation changes completely complicate club selection. Tim, Krash and Matt easily could have stayed put in our accommodations at the nearby Ballyliffin House & Spa with its perfect pub, happy to play the Old and Glashedy on repeat for the entire trip. I pushed us onward.

We rushed to Rosapenna Hotel & Golf Resort to tackle American designer Tom Doak’s Irish artwork on the new St. Patrick’s Links, where unforgettable vantages of water, sun and mountains almost outpace the variety of golf shots amidst a simply inconceivable landscape. St. Patrick’s offers little escape for a player not on his game, but after fatting a wedge and coming up just short of No. 1 green, I managed to rekindle a bit of my old swing – put it on my tombstone that I hit the next 17 greens in a row at Rosapenna.

Rosapenna’s Sandy Hills Links plays high above a lovely beach, with most holes secluded among the towering dunes. (Krash Kim/Special to Golfweek)
Rosapenna’s Sandy Hills Links plays high above a lovely beach, with most holes secluded among the towering dunes. (Krash Kim/Special to Golfweek)

The next day was Portsalon in the morning, where Matt truly fell in love with Irish golf on the classic links holes along one of the most photogenic crescents of beach in the world, all set among a pastoral town. That afternoon was Sandy Hills Links back at Rosapenna, almost every hole framed alone among the dunes. Krash and Tim took me to task after I challenged them to a match in which they played as a scramble team and I was left to scramble after my tired, wayward shots on my own.

The following morning was a trek out to the nine-holer at Cruit Island, as raw and beautiful a golf course as I have ever seen. Seemingly every Irish golfer along this trip asked if we were playing Cruit, smiling as we responded in the affirmative. The holes play up and around steep dunes, with several perched atop cliffs above the Atlantic. A confessed lover of nine-hole golf, I could happily spend a month straight playing those outpost holes again and again.

That afternoon it was on to Narin & Portnoo, revised by the American team of Gil Hanse and Jim Wagner, its classic edges a little sharper than several of the Irish layouts we sampled, its conditioning a bit tidier than some others. The trek out to a point on the front and the water views along the hills of the back nine were among the best of the trip. The width of many fairways gave Matt plenty of room to blast tee balls on lines the caddies almost had to dare him to take. This was the only round on the whole trip we took caddies, though we carried or pushed our own bags this day as on others, the caddies steering us along with a mix of jokes and encouragement.

Donegal Golf Club, also sometimes known as Murvagh, starts on flat land before climbing incredible dunes alongside the ocean. 
Each of the players in our group said they had the same thought before we ever teed off: This is a club I would be thrilled to join. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Donegal Golf Club, also sometimes known as Murvagh, starts on flat land before climbing incredible dunes alongside the ocean. Each of the players in our group said they had the same thought before we ever teed off: This is a club I would be thrilled to join. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

The final 36-hole day started at Donegal Golf Club, where Matt, Tim and Krash started asking about international memberships before we even teed off – the place just has a perfect vibe where you want to linger day after day. The first several holes are a bit flat, but from No. 5 onward this links blasts off among the dunes, offering fun shot after fun shot. It’s the type of club where any golfer should be thrilled to be a member.

After piling into the van for an hour, we tackled Strandhill as the sun and the rain battled for attention, nearby Knocknarea Mountain playing hide-and-seek among the storm clouds. It was out to the bay, up the hills, down the dunes toward the ocean, blasting balls into sometimes blind valleys and hoping for the best. The layout and its membership perfectly reflect nearby Sligo, a real Irish town full of real Irish accents where you want to linger for the party.

The 18-hole days kicked off with Enniscrone’s Dunes Championship Links offering several of the prettiest and most fun holes to play in the world. Enniscrone is not to be missed by any American who plans to go all the way to Ireland. Our back nine began with an epic squall, leaving me a downhill, 100-yard approach with a 5-iron into simply silly winds on No. 13 to set up my favorite birdie of the trip. By the time we reached 16, one of the best par 5s on this island, the sun was shining.

Benbulbin, a flat-topped mountain of Irish lore,
tries to break free of the clouds on a day that alternated between pelting rain and moments of brilliant sunshine 
at County Sligo Golf Club. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Benbulbin, a flat-topped mountain of Irish lore, tries to break free of the clouds on a day that alternated between pelting rain and moments of brilliant sunshine at County Sligo Golf Club. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

County Sligo’s Colt Championship Links was the second of three 18-hole days, all four of us anticipating a bit of respite for our aching feet until we climbed the mountainous but thankfully short par-4 second hole. From there a delightful panorama stretched from a sailboat race to the beachside golf holes and beyond to Benbulbin, a flat-topped mountain that dominates the northward views and a fair bit of Irish lore.

And finally, one of my favorites, Carne. American author Tom Coyne helped put the place on the map in his book, “A Course Called Ireland,” after the club’s operators fought through some lean years to keep golf alive way out on the edge of County Mayo. To not play Carne is an unforgivable sin, and I had talked up the place so much to my cohort that I was afraid it might disappoint. As if that could be possible among this incredible meeting of sand, sea and scenery, all with a rugged, green, 27-hole patch of perfection planted among the dunes.

Every day, somebody would call that day’s course their favorite, sparking some debate but mostly agreement. And the next day, a new course would take the top spot, proving not so much that we could actually pick a favorite as the fact we could not.

Golfweek editor Tim Schmitt takes a quick break from the rain in a shelter at County Sligo Golf Club. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Golfweek editor Tim Schmitt takes a quick break from the rain in a shelter at County Sligo Golf Club. (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

“I thought I would be able to rank them as I went, but as I reflected on some of them and played other ones, all these courses are fantastic,” Matt said before we set off east across the island on our return to the Dublin airport. “The ones that stood out in my mind were Enniscrone, Carne, Portsalon, Strandhill, Donegal – I’m starting to name them all. I don’t know if I could put them in order.”

Tim had the same problem.

“To try and rank the 12 golf courses that we played, I mean, we talked about this in the van as we were driving from course to course, it’s almost impossible,” he said. “Every one seems to be your favorite. There are a few that seem to stand out a smidge over others, but the total experience is everything I could have ever imagined and more.”

As a courtroom attorney, Krash was even more accustomed to cutting right to the point.

“Dude, I’d be thrilled to play any of them again,” he said.

Members of the jury: We rest our case.

Where we stayed

Londonderry – or Derry, as it’s still called in the Republic (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Londonderry – or Derry, as it’s still called in the Republic (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

Bishop’s Gate HotelLondonderry

This idyllic city inn is perfectly located for strolling Derry, a great walking town. The hotel’s restaurant offers a great breakfast, and the street-facing window seats in the dinner room invite guests to linger for people-watching. The rooms are perfectly comfortable for a golf trip.

Ballyliffin House & Spa in Ireland (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
Ballyliffin House & Spa in Ireland (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

Ballyliffin House & SpaBallyliffin

It’s always a treat to sleep above a rollicking pub, and this boutique inn features one of the best. Locals gather here for dinner, drinks and conversation. The hotel sits in a small village only minutes from Ballyliffin Golf Club. This is a hotel that is difficult to leave, so perfectly a part of the town that you begin to consider rebooking a follow-up visit as soon as you check in.

Rosapenna ResortRosapenna

The only full golf resort on our itinerary, we encamped for two days in oversized rooms packed with luxury, all overlooking a gorgeous bay surrounded by green mountains and sand dunes. The resort is home to three exceptionally scenic courses: the Old Tom Morris Links, Sandy Hills Links and the new St. Patrick’s Links by Tom Doak. The bartender entertained us for hours with local gossip and golf tips.

Harvey’s PointCounty Donegal

A resort hotel nestled along Lough Eske (lough means lake), the lobby was crowded with energetic wedding parties and families on holiday. Our rooms were large and luxurious, the bathrooms basically private spas with deep tubs. The restaurant was first class and accommodated our late arrival, thankfully ignoring its stated closing time to feed four damp and hungry Americans who stumbled in after a full day of walking.

The Glasshouse Hotel in Sligo (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)
The Glasshouse Hotel in Sligo (Jason Lusk/Golfweek)

Glasshouse HotelSligo

This city-center hotel features a beautiful glass exterior, the rooms overlooking a river that cascades through town. It would be easy to linger in Sligo, which offers everything from shopping to pubs that are difficult to escape with sobriety intact. Golferson a boys trip should beware – this is an on-blast Irish city that offers exceptional golf and vigilant nightlife that might make an early tee time difficult.

Diamond Coast HotelEnniscrone

Set among the coast just inland from Enniscrone Golf Club, this large hotel offers walking access to the adjacent dunes with a small town just down the street. The hotel had a few hiccups during our stay – most notably a water heater for our rooms that temporarily didn’t want to cooperate – but the pub was filled with a large wedding party belting out old Irish songs each night. The rooms are perfectly comfortable, which is all we really wanted after full days of golf.

This article originally appeared on Golfweek: Golf in Ireland: Four Americans have the walk of a lifetime