The trip began in the north, flying into Inverness before making our way to Cabot Highlands. We were treated to blazing sunshine and zero rain. The kind of day that makes Scottish golf feel like cheating. But as beautiful as Cabot was, it was always the warm-up act. The real reason for the alarm set at an ungodly hour was what awaited two and a half hours south, just outside Aberdeen.
Trump International Golf Links had already claimed the title of my favourite golf course in the world after a previous visit. The old 18 holes set against the North Atlantic, framed by towering dunes, is the kind of course that lodges itself permanently in your memory. But now a second 18 holes had been added and the resort had made a statement. They weren't calling it a good new course. They were calling it the greatest 36 in golf.
Buzzing doesn't quite cover how I felt arriving at the estate. This was the most anticipated round of golf I have ever played.