Day 1: Arrival

After safely navigating the Atlantic crossing on Thursday evening, all 16 members of our merry band - and, miraculously, 16 sets of golf clubs - arrived safely in Edinburgh on Friday.  While the flights were on relatively on-time and all baggage arrived with each respective passenger, there were a couple of minor snafus.

An Executive Platinum-level international traveler, Gil was disappointed to find that the American Airlines gate agent didn't greet him by name at DFW, nor did he provide him a courtesy upgrade to First Class. Forced to travel in the relative squalor of Business Class (where he was accompanied by Jeff, Mike, Tim, and your humble editor), Gil tried to drown his sorrows in a glass of pre-departure champagne, which he promptly spat out on the bulkhead.

"What the f*ck is this swill!, Asti Spumonte!?", wailed Gil. "I wouldn't wash my ass with this stuff, let alone drink it. In First Class, they serve the real stuff."  He then drank two Heinekens, popped an Ambien, pulled on his sleeping mask, and snoozed like a baby all the way to London, sucking his thumb in blissful contentment.

Meanwhile, in Seat 11B, Tim was confronting his own demons, the first in the form of a Portuguese five-year old in the adjacent aisle seat whose behavior suggested he might be possessed by demons (which his mother attempted to quell with what appeared to be the world's largest pacifier), and the second a raging nicotine fit that would reach almost unbearable proportions upon arrival at London Heathrow Airport.

After eight hours on the plane without a cigarette, Tim found that Heathrow is a smoke-free airport, meaning he would need to wait until we arrived in Edinburgh some four hours later to light up. Pacing feverishly up and down the terminal while cursing the British, Jeff managed to keep Tim from suffering a nervous breakdown by pulling out his iPad and firing up a cigarette lighter app, where the flame magically appeared from an ersatz Zippo with the brush of a finger. Tim proceeded to curl up in a fetal position in a remote corner of the terminal with the iPad, flipping the flame on and off maniacally while we waited to board the flight to Edinburgh.  Safely on the ground in Scotland, Tim made a mad dash to the curb, lighting four cigarettes in rapid succession until his equilibrium had been reestablished.

We were then greeted by our driver, Andy, who spoke in a near unitellligible, rapid-fire Scottish brogue that was evocative of a man speaking with marbles in his mouth.  Once in St. Andrews, we disembarked from the bus, checked into our lodgings, and proceeded to the nearby Dunvegan Hotel for a welcome dinner. After a few cocktails and a hearty meal, we emptied out into the streets of St. Andrews at 9:45 PM, where some repaired to the pubs while others called it a night after a long night and day of traveling.

All in all, a great start to the trip.