I’ve planned a lot of trips. Driven the Mosel. Stood at Patton’s grave in Luxembourg. Watched the sun come up over the Matterhorn. Eaten my way through Bavaria and walked the cobblestones of more medieval German towns than I can count.
But there’s a trip I haven’t taken yet that I think about more than most of the ones I have.
Nova Scotia. Cabot Cliffs.
I’ve never set foot on the course. But I know exactly what it feels like — or at least I know what it’s supposed to feel like, and everything I’ve seen and read tells me the reality doesn’t disappoint.
Cool air. Not crisp-fall-morning cool. Atlantic Ocean cool. The kind that gets into your jacket and stays there. Salt in the air. The kind of wind that doesn’t apologize. And then the course itself — sitting on the cliffs above the ocean, the fairways dropping into ravines, the water everywhere you look. Eighteen holes that don’t let you forget for a single second where you are.
That’s the thing about the best golf destinations. They’re not just about the golf. They’re about being somewhere so specific, so irreplaceable, that the round becomes inseparable from the place. Pebble Beach is like that. St. Andrews is like that. Cabot Cliffs, from everything I know, is like that.
The way I’m building this trip in my head — a few days on the course, then a private charter out of the harbor for tuna fishing. The Atlantic is serious fishing country up there. Then a few days just exploring the coastline. The small towns, the fishing villages, the food. Nova Scotia has that same quality I love about the European places I keep going back to — it doesn’t perform for you. It just is what it is, and what it is happens to be remarkable.
I’m going. The question is just when — and who’s coming with me.
If Nova Scotia golf is on your list too, let’s talk. I’m already doing the research and I’d rather plan it for two than just keep thinking about it.