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Or, about a Library where I belonged and a world-renowned Golf Course where I didn't!
As usual, today afforded many opportunities for me to explore the lovely town of St. Andrews. I’m becoming quite the little adventurer. (To pique your interest, a day-trip to Loch Ness is on the horizon! In two day’s time I should be able to share a picture of that sneaky monster!)
Following morning coffee my Berea buddy and I ambled into St. Mary’s College, which houses the School of Divinity here at the university. We nipped into an academic hall where we found a spot to enjoy treats from Fisher & Donaldson’s under the stern supervision of portrait featuring a very dour-looking professor. But that was only the beginning!
Whilst inside this academic hall, I spied a sign on the outside of a building across the walk, advertising that St. Mary’s College Library was inside. We decided to check it out. Remember that scene in Beauty and the Beast where the Beast dramatically presents Belle with a room full of towering shelves filled with books? Well, I’m pretty sure that’s what happened when I walked into this place, complete with a string orchestra crescendo! Needless to say, after running the day’s errands, I made a beeline back to the King James Library and read for an hour and a half. Today may have been the first time I’ve ever used a “proper” library, the kind with forest-green desk lamps and mahogany columns. Little moments that remind me of the history of Britain are always delightful.
Returning from town, I decided to take a shortcut - which turned into a longcut – around the Old Course at St. Andrews. Deceptively, I thought that The Scores led to a road which runs right in front of New Hall. That didn’t happen. In no time at all the path soon turned from pavement to gravel, was leading further away from town, and looking suspiciously hilly. Rain clouds were forming overhead and the air was becoming chilly, to boot. Then, suddenly, I heard a loud wooshing sound from above and saw a small, white speck fly across the sky. Golf balls!
In defense of the Old Course, markers were clearly posted indicating to tourists that the greens were ahead, but I stubbornly believed my little plan would work. You know those times when you become painfully aware that you’re not in the right place? Well, walking along the Old Course felt something like that. My situation was not helped when I remembered a random factoid about the sport, being that “golf” originally stood for “gentlemen only, ladies forbidden.” I began to panic that some Old Course bouncer-man would appear out of the bushes and cart me, obviously a lady, away! Also, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would be seized and asked to pay the, what I discovered later to be, £64 green fee. After dashing around a sandpit, squeezing through a locked gate, and slip-sliding across the mud – I found myself, safe and sound, in my room. In brief: Old libraries suit me. Posh golf courses do not!
I made it back just in time, too. As I was sipping my well deserved cup of tea, huge snowflakes began to fall from the sky and at present the courtyard is positively covered in a blanket of white.
Hope you all are keeping entertained with my misadventures!
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I do believe your other Grandfather, Paw-Paw, (the one who Golfs) should read this post.
ReplyDeleteLove Dad
:0)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Dad!