When in Rome…

We’re in St Andrews, the birthplace of golf, and what better way to introduce the kids to the sport than by visiting the British Golf Museum? It’s not a free museum but I think we got our money’s worth. It’s filled with cabinet after cabinet of old golf clubs, golf balls, trophies and medals and this bit the kids found fairly boring. Although we did learn that the first golf balls were made from leather and filled with feathers. The museum did have some activities for children as well and at the end was the pièce de résistance, the putting green complete with golf dressing-up clothes.



The one-handed putt.
Daniel the photographer. One thing is certain: I am consistently useless at getting the ball in the hole.
Daniel the photographer. One thing is certain: I was consistently useless at getting the ball in the hole.
Where do they get their energy from?
Where do they get their energy from?


While we were clambering over the rocks we met a couple of Asian women who asked me to take a  photograph of them with their camera. They wanted Elizabeth to pose in the photo with them which she did. Asians are always very taken with her blonde, curly hair and big blue eyes. I got the same fascinated treatment as a baby in Thailand.

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It’s a hard life swanning about this cute coastal village. Ben’s not exactly having a tough time either. One night for him has been spent sipping champagne and another night spent tasting whiskey.

3 responses to “When in Rome…”

  1. Love the pic of your son sticking out His tongue. You are in the birthplace of golf, to me that seems like a unachievable goal. Golf is the only sport I ever watch on TV besides collage football. I only watch when Tiger Woods is playing and I will skip over the part where the idiot cheated on His wife. Daniel left out most of you head when He took the shot, was He doing it on purpose 🙂

    • I almost feel bad about being here and not making the most of the sport. Perhaps tomorrow we’ll try some real golf.

      Daniel took the photo at his own height which unfortunately excludes my head. He doesn’t seem to understand how to tilt the camera to get different angles. The photo Elizabeth took of me was just of my legs because she’s shorter again.

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