After swinging through the opening holes, Ballybunion brings you to the daunting presence of the cold and gray Atlantic and a series of majestic sand dunes that make for beautiful golf holes exposed to howling winds. Below, the starter's shack at Dooks is simple and unprententious, just like that brilliant links.
Other trips to Ireland have been wall-to-wall golf, but this sojourn was more about discovering the truth to what James Joyce once wrote: “In Ireland, the sea whispers tales of wanderlust, while the land sings a song of belonging.”
So on a trip that included breathtaking views of the Loch Eidenneach in the Inagh Valley, start-to-finish sunshine on a nearly seven-hour drive around the Ring of Kerry, and a first-ever tour of the entire Dingle Peninsula and the magical Slea Head Drive, there were only four rounds of golf played.
It was a shock to my system to consider such a light load of golf, at least at first, but the four stops more than quenched my thirst. Visits to The Hawthorn and Jameson Links in Dublin provided many highlights that had never been experienced and it’s never a bad thing on a trip to Ireland to visit old friends like Dooks and Ballybunion.
Andrew from Yonkers was the playing companion at Dooks GC and it was duly noted how the two of us had experienced this charming seaside links and had not hesitated to come back.
Dating to 1889 and totally enhanced about 20 years ago by Martin Hawtree’s brilliant vision when it comes to restoring links, Dooks is a must-visit when you’re in the Killarney area. It played just beautifully in stiff wind and in-and-out sunshine and a gentleman named Panda provided lovely guidance as our caddie.
“Aye, good lad,” he would tell you on those rare times we actually followed his advice. But Panda most certainly knew his way around this lovely links, which is made even lovelier by the fact it has a starter’s hut that seemingly dates to 1889, which is quite OK because it adds character.
Which is a perfect segue into that course that is drenched in character. Ballybunion remains as brilliant as ever, and on a day when winds were whipping at about 25-30 and gusting upwards of 35 out on those iconic holes that run parallel to the Atlantic, there was nowhere else my golf spirit wanted to be.
A lad by the name of Daniel Williams added layers of flavor to this day, his caddie skills quite polished for a 16-year-old from nearby Listowel. He got his point across is delightful fashions – the green at No. 6, Kiln, “is shaped like a ship,” he said, adding that it was crucial not to miss it right, which promptly is where my approach went; and at Castle Green, the seventh, “you have all of Ireland to the left,” which meant to not go near the raucous wasters of the Atlantic all way down the right.
It was Race Week in Listowel and young Daniel has deep passion for a ritual that goes back to the 1800s. Yet he feels a kinship for the Old Course at Ballybunion and takes immense pride in helping mid-to-high-handicappers shave shots wherever possible at this elite layout that captivates you from the opening tee shot to the final putt.
It was a third trip to Ballybunion, 16 years since my first go-round, and truth be told, the course has never shined any brighter than it did this time around. To experience the awe of No. 11, famously named Watson’s as a sign of reverence for the America who in 1981 called Ballybunion the best links in Ireland and pretty much revitalized the lure of this iconic land.
When the wind is in your face, it was on this visit, to find the fairway with your drive is a challenge and to layup shot of massive mounds left and right is often the play. Oh, how the bowling-alley-like lane you have between those sand dunes is a spectacular look when you’re on No. 11, it’s just one of a dozen vantage points that keeps you coming back time and time again.
As opposed to the return to Ballybunion, the trek up to Belfast was a first. To see this city with all its scars and all its historical pain was deeply humbling. But there was a part of me that wanted to add another piece of flavor to this area north of the border. My golf soul needed to visit Holywood Golf Club, the place where Rory McIlroy learned the game and where a shrine of sorts is set up for him, for good reason.
It was golf, yes, but in a sight-seeing sort of way, which is one way of explaining this latest journey to a land that moves my spirit and keeps pulling me back.
Next time, my guess is it will again be wall-to-wall golf. Although who knows; after all, the depth of beauty in Ireland has a hold on me, too.
