Scottish Golf Etiquette: What Every Visitor Needs to Know Before the First Tee

We would like to offer a slightly different view of Scottish golf etiquette than the one you've probably read elsewhere. Most of the guides online were written either by someone who has played here three times, or by someone trying to sell you a tour package. The first kind treats the local culture as a series of bear traps you must avoid. The second kind treats it as a theatre show you're meant to respect. Neither is accurate.

What we would say, from the clubhouse bar at various places around the country: there are about six things that genuinely matter, and about thirty things that people write about in magazines that mostly don't. We'll cover both, briefly, and try to tell you which ones will get you a raised eyebrow at an Ayrshire club and which ones nobody has given a thought to in decades.

The things that genuinely matter

Pace. The only thing a Scottish club member will actually be annoyed about is slow play. Not your swing, not your trousers, not the fact you've never played links golf before. If you're holding up the group behind, wave them through at the next tee. They will thank you. They will think no less of you. They will play through in ten minutes and the rest of your round will be a lot more enjoyable because you aren't being watched. A four-ball with no group ahead should be done in three and a half hours. Two players in good time should do it in two and a half. If you're over that, you're slow.

Raking bunkers. When you leave a bunker, take the rake and smooth out your footprints and the mark your shot made. It's not difficult. It's not ceremonial. It takes twenty seconds. The reason it matters is that the person coming after you shouldn't inherit your mess. That's all. Nobody will inspect the bunker you've raked. Someone will remember the one you didn't.

Replacing divots. On parkland courses, pick up the turf you've chopped out of the fairway and push it back in with your foot. On most links courses this isn't needed — the turf is too short to divot — but on inland parkland it matters. Again, it's about leaving it for the next group.

Not walking on someone's putting line. The line between a player's ball and the hole. Walk around it. Members notice. Playing partners notice. Anyone who's been on a green twice notices.

Not talking when someone is hitting. This is the only one that everybody everywhere in golf already knows. We mention it only because visitors get so worried about the elaborate etiquette that they forget the basics.

Shaking hands at the end of the round. Eighteen holes, sixteen holes, nine holes, however many you've played. Shake hands with your playing partners and with the starter if they're around. Say "good round" even if it wasn't. A caddie gets a thank-you by name. That's it. Scottish golf is mostly friendly, and the handshake at the 18th is one of the nicer parts of it.

The things that are broadly made up

Every visitor we've met has arrived terrified about one or more of the following, and none of them matter as much as the articles say they do.

"You must wear a tweed jacket in the clubhouse." At Muirfield, for a formal lunch, yes. At pretty much every other club in Scotland, no. A collared shirt and trousers that aren't denim will get you into ninety-nine out of a hundred clubhouses in the country. Most smaller municipals don't care what you wear.

"You must have an official handicap certificate." Only at a handful of the famous clubs. The Old Course, Muirfield, Prestwick, Royal Dornoch and Royal Troon will ask. Turnberry, Kingsbarns, the Renaissance, Gleneagles, most Ayrshire, most Fife, anywhere municipal — they don't. If you're worried, email the club. The answer will be clearer than the internet implies.

"You can't use a buggy." Mostly you can. The Old Course is the major exception — no buggies except on medical grounds. Turnberry allows them. Kingsbarns allows them. Many parkland courses actively rent them. If you've got a bad back, ask about buggy availability at the time of booking rather than assuming the answer is no.

"You must hire a caddie at every top course." Strongly advised at the Old Course and Muirfield. Recommended at Prestwick. Optional everywhere else. Caddies are professional and worth the fee if you haven't played links golf before — they'll save you at least four shots and tell you better stories than any guidebook. But you're not obliged.

"The 19th hole is a dress-code minefield." At the grand clubs, yes, you'll be expected to change shoes and tidy up a little before going into the main clubhouse. At everywhere else, the starter's hut sells coffee and a packet of crisps and nobody looks up. The two extremes are real. The middle ground — which is ninety per cent of Scottish clubhouses — is just a pub with a better view.

Things the locals actually do that visitors often don't

Pay the honesty box at the unmanned starter's hut. Smaller clubs and a few highland courses work on honour. Put the cash in the box and sign the sheet. Don't chance it — somebody will know.

Repair pitch marks on the green. Not just yours — any pitch mark you see. Use a pitch-fork tool, not a tee peg. Push sideways, not upwards.

Keep your bag off the green. Leave the bag on the collar or in the closest fringe, carry only your putter onto the green.

Wave walkers and dog-owners through. Many Scottish courses have rights of way crossing them. The person with the lead and the terrier is not trespassing. Wait for them. Wave to them.

Buy the caddie a pint after the round. Standard at the top courses. A proper thank-you for a professional day's work. The caddie will split a half with you and tell you which holes you actually hit well.

A note on the national character

Scottish golf culture is less formal than visitors expect. It's more friendly than the magazines suggest. It's also less impressed by money than any golfing culture on earth. If you arrive at a small muni in a £600 pair of golf shoes with three colour-coordinated gloves in your pocket, nobody will be rude about it, but nobody will be impressed either. The currency in a Scottish golf conversation is not kit, not cost, and not name-dropping. It's how you played the 13th in the wind, and what you said to the starter on the way out.

The best compliment you can get at the bar after the round is being invited back for another one. The second-best is the starter remembering your name the next morning.

Hit your shot. Walk to it. Rake after yourself. Let the faster group through. That's the bulk of it. The rest is scenery.