ireland

Ireland has a way of reminding you that golf wasn't invented by architects with bulldozers and real estate brochures. It was discovered by a few stubborn souls wandering across windswept dunes, chasing a ball over whatever nature decided to throw in front of them.

My trip started at Corballis Links (below), where civilization seems to end somewhere around the parking lot. Fairways tumble across ancient sand, the bounces are wonderfully unpredictable, and every shot feels like a polite negotiation with Mother Nature. It's gloriously quirky, endlessly entertaining, and one of the best bargains in Irish golf. In a country filled with world-famous links commanding premium green fees, Corballis quietly delivers an unforgettable experience for a fraction of the cost. You leave wondering how a course this much fun can possibly be this affordable.

Jameson Golf Links carries a unique connection to Irish history through the Jameson whiskey family, whose legacy is woven into the land surrounding the course. The family’s ties to the property date back generations, and their influence can still be felt today with the Jameson family graves located just off the first hole fairway. It is a remarkable reminder that this is not just a golf course built on beautiful ground, but a place with a deep personal history connected to the people who helped shape the area.

The course takes full advantage of its remarkable setting along the Irish Sea, winding through towering dunes, natural grasses, and sweeping coastal views. It feels less like a course carved into the landscape and more like one discovered there. With the wind constantly shifting, dramatic dunes creating strategic challenges, and the Atlantic horizon always in view, Jameson Golf Links captures the spirit of Irish links golf in a way that feels both timeless and unforgettable.

Then came Portmarnock Golf Club, where there isn't an ounce of wasted motion anywhere on the property. Since opening in 1894, this legendary links has built its reputation not through gimmicks or artificial drama, but through a relentless commitment to pure golf. It is elegant without trying to be elegant, a course that lets the land, the wind, and the sea provide all the theater it needs. The fairways thread naturally through the dunes, the greens sit quietly among the landscape, and every hole seems to ask the same question: can you think your way around this place?

Portmarnock has hosted generations of great players and major amateur championships, yet it remains refreshingly uninterested in showing off. There are no forced heroics, no manufactured moments, just thoughtful design and the constant challenge of playing the right shot at the right time. The wind can turn a comfortable approach into a survival exercise, and a slightly misplaced shot can disappear into the dunes faster than a bad decision at an Irish pub. It is the kind of course where precision beats power, imagination beats ego, and every round leaves you with a little more respect for the game.

A few miles away sits The Royal Dublin Golf Club, another masterpiece that has somehow survived every trend in modern golf by completely ignoring them. Walking those fairways feels like borrowing a page from golf history. There are no circus tricks, no manufactured drama, just honest golf asking one honest question over and over: "Can you actually play?"

Somewhere between Dublin and County Sligo, Ireland begins to feel wonderfully untamed, where the Atlantic grows louder, the dunes grow taller, and the landscape seems to belong more to legend than reality. Then Enniscrone appears, and suddenly everything else fades away. The back nine rises through towering dunes that make golfers look insignificant, every hole feeling as though it simply emerged from the earth. You don't conquer Enniscrone. You survive it, admire it, and spend the flight home wondering if you actually played golf or stumbled into an ancient Irish myth.

If Enniscrone is pure drama, Narin & Portnoo Links is quiet brilliance. Originally laid out in 1930 by the legendary Eddie Hackett, the course always possessed one of Ireland's greatest stretches of natural dune land, but over the decades parts of its extraordinary coastline had gradually slipped out of play. Gil Hanse's restoration changed that. Rather than reinventing the course, Hanse peeled away years of unnecessary changes and reintroduced golf to the spectacular dunes that had been there all along. The result is a links that feels both timeless and brand new, flowing effortlessly through the landscape with strategic options, unforgettable views across Donegal Bay, and the unmistakable sense that this is exactly how the course was always meant to be played.

Then there's Cruit Island Golf Club, which cheerfully ignores every convention of modern golf. It's a nine-hole course that plays as 18 using a second set of tee boxes, creating a surprisingly different experience the second time around. For a first-time visitor, it can be a little confusing figuring out where you're headed next, but that somehow adds to its charm. The routing winds across rugged cliffs high above the Atlantic, where nearly every hole delivers another breathtaking view. It's quirky, wildly scenic, and the kind of place that reminds you golf doesn't always have to make perfect sense to be unforgettable.

By the time the trip ended, I wasn't thinking about scores. Ireland has a remarkable ability to make scorecards feel like receipts from a great meal—you know you paid for the experience, but the numbers aren't the point. What stays with you are the endless dunes, the impossible shades of green, the Atlantic crashing against ancient coastlines, and seven courses that each tell a completely different story about what links golf can be. Somewhere between Corballis and Cruit, with enough wind to bend flagsticks and enough laughter to erase every bad swing, it became obvious why golfers keep coming back to this little island at the edge of Europe. It isn't just golf. It's organized madness played on some of the most spectacular ground ever discovered.

Harbour Town Golf Links

Harbour Town Golf Links has always been a course that whispers rather than shouts. It doesn’t need theatrics—just tight fairways framed by leaning pines, small greens that punish anything lazy, and that unmistakable walk toward the lighthouse on eighteen. It’s a place that earns your respect the old-fashioned way: one demanding shot at a time.

Almost as soon as the last putt dropped at the RBC Heritage, Davis Love III and his team went to work. The renovation didn’t aim to reinvent Harbour Town, just to sharpen what was already exceptional. The bunkers are the clearest example—cleaner edges, smarter placement, and a look that settles more naturally into the ground. Greens were refined, surfaces firmed and freshened, and the subtle contours that define Harbour Town’s personality were tuned with a careful hand. No loud redesign, just thoughtful craftsmanship.

Love approached the project like someone who understood the assignment: protect the soul, elevate the details. Harbour Town has always rewarded precision, patience, and nerve, and now—with crisper bunkers, tuned greens, and a layout refreshed without losing a step—it feels as timeless as ever, just a touch more honest.

Riviera country club

Riviera Country Club, now celebrating its 100th anniversary, has always been more than just a golf course. It’s a stage. A cathedral of West Coast golf where style, architecture, and competition have come together for a century beneath the eucalyptus and sycamore trees of Pacific Palisades.

And now, as it enters its second century, Riviera is once again set to take center stage on the world golf calendar. With the U.S. Women’s Open arriving in 2026, Olympic golf returning in 2028, and the U.S. Open coming back in 2031, the course will continue its role as both a proving ground and a showcase. Riviera has always had that rare combination of history, elegance, and competitive edge — the kind of course that challenges the best without saying a word. A hundred years in, it hasn’t lost a step. If anything, it feels like it’s just hitting its stride.

The Genesis itself has become one of the premier events on the PGA TOUR schedule — not just because of its setting, but because Riviera has a way of revealing greatness. Whether it’s Hogan, Watson, Couples, or Tiger Woods — who now serves as host and steward of the tournament where he made his first PGA TOUR start — Riviera remains what it has always been: a beautiful, demanding, elegant challenge. A proper golf course.

For those of us who’ve walked its fairways year after year — in my case, as a volunteer at The Genesis Invitational for three decades — Riviera is also personal. It’s where I've seen the game played at its absolute highest level, where strategy, shotmaking, and temperament are constantly tested. It’s a course that doesn’t need to be tricked up. It doesn’t need to shout. It just asks all the right questions.

Ben Hogan’s legacy at Riviera Country Club is etched deeper than any divot ever taken from its fairways. In 1948, he won the Los Angeles Open and, just months later, claimed the U.S. Open on the very same course — a feat so dominant they dubbed it “Hogan’s Alley.” He won the LA Open again in 1947 and 1950, and even in his later years, post-accident, Riviera remained one of the few places where Hogan looked entirely at home. The course seemed to suit his game perfectly — demanding precision, strategy, and absolute control. No frills, no fluff — just fairways, greens, and the truth. Hogan respected Riviera, and Riviera returned the favor.

The long par-three 4th at Riviera (above) is one of the most iconic and uncompromising one-shotters in championship golf. Stretching well over 230 yards today — and lengthened in recent years to keep pace with the modern game — it remains a brutally honest test where par still feels like a small victory. With its deep bunkers guarding a narrow, elevated green and a prevailing breeze that always seems to be working against you, it demands both precision and nerve. Ben Hogan was said to admire the hole deeply, calling it one of the finest par threes he ever played. And considering Hogan didn’t dish out praise lightly, that’s saying something. It’s the kind of hole that doesn’t need tricks — just a long iron or hybrid, a pure strike, and a short memory.

Montammy Golf Club

Montammy Golf Club, nestled in the quiet hills of Alpine, New Jersey, is the kind of place that doesn’t need to raise its voice. Just a short drive from Manhattan, it offers a graceful retreat from the noise of the world — understated, private, and deeply rooted in tradition. There’s a stillness here, a rhythm, that immediately tells you you’re somewhere special. It’s classic, but never dated. Refined, but never rigid.

The course winds through mature hardwoods and gentle elevation changes with a routing that feels natural, unforced — as if the land had always intended to be a golf course. Tree-lined fairways frame each shot with purpose. Elevated tees offer moments of quiet theater. And the bunkering, understated but strategic, asks all the right questions. It’s golf that rewards thought over muscle, tempo over tempo. The greens are fast and true, the walk is pleasant, and the round ends far too soon.

But Montammy is more than just a golf course. It’s a setting. A feeling. A club where every detail — from the grooming of the practice range to the view from the patio — feels intentional. There’s no need for spectacle here; the beauty is in the restraint. It’s the kind of place that stays with you. The kind of course you remember not just for one hole, but for how it made you feel the entire round. And in the end, isn’t that what the game is all about?

It’s a course that challenges the low handicapper while remaining playable for the everyday member—no small feat, and precisely what Jones does best. There’s a new energy at Montammy. It’s elegant. It’s demanding. And most of all—it’s fun.

Oakland Hills Country Club

Donald Ross felt his 1918 design was out-of-date for the 1951 U.S. Open and was prepared to remodel it. Sadly, he died in 1948, so Robert Trent Jones got the job. His rebunkering was overshadowed by ankle-deep rough, and after Ben Hogan closed with a 67, one of only two rounds under par 70 all week, to win his second consecutive Open, he complained that Jones had created a Frankenstein.

Frustrated with not being selected for any major championships for at least two decade period, Oakland Hills decided to undergo a complete renovation of the South Course in 2019. Led by Gil Hanse, the renovation removed trees, increased the size of greens and removed bunkers while increasing the size of the remaining ones.

The main goals of the renovation was to make play easier for the membership, while making the course formidable for potential major championships.

With six US Opens Oakland Hills is behind only Oakmont and Baltusrol for hosting the most national championships. The club has hosted the PGA Championship three times as well as the 2004 Ryder Cup. The next open date for the national championship is 2028.

“I brought this course, this monster, to its knees.”

Ben Hogan

Quivira Golf Club