Just puttering around St. Andrews

So there we were in the cradle of golf where argyled pilgrims flock to show off their game ... and we played putt-putt.

Elizabeth said it was what she most wanted to do while in St. Andrews. And the "Himalayas" turned out to be more difficult -- and more fun -- than any artificial turf course with clown mouths and windmills.

Climb every mountain: The Himalayas are quite a deal at a cost of £2 per person. 

Plus, the Ladies' Putting Green (as it is officially called), is nestled between the historic Old Course with all the expert golfers and the beach, so it's hard to beat the location.

Negative, negative, it didn't go in: Elizabeth  making her first attempt on the 6th hole. The Old Course is behind her.

The green is open to the non-initiated most of the day and has two "courses" for you to play -- one that extends nine holes and the other to 18 holes. The arrows point you in the direction of the flag you seek.

"Teeing off" on the 2nd hole. 

We played the shorter course, fearing our skills might be too embarrassing to survive an entire 18. After both of us got off to slow starts, we starting figuring out how to play the rolling hills. Occasionally, a ball would actually go in the hole.

Scooping up one of my successful shots. (It just took several tries to get to that point. And by several, I mean 5.) 

Elizabeth was extremely surprised after scoring a 3 on the 3rd hole.  She didn't  want to use this photo but I put it in anyway.

"You might not be too terrible at golf," Elizabeth told me at one point as my ball got within a few feet of the flag and hers rolled back down a hill.

I gave it a moment, hoping for a friendly breeze -- or a sneeze. But in the end I had to tap it in.

This is my dorky celebration of a 2 on the final hole. Elizabeth was so shocked she didn't even have the camera ready.

Our scorecards. In case you can't read Elizabeth's disgusted scrawl, it was 38 for her, and 30 for me.  As a reward, I got to carry the luggage to Edinburgh.