Separated by a Common Language

Just in time for the Scottish Open, our Perspectives series returns with a tale from the golf rich East Lothian coast of Scotland, courtesy of our Founder & Chairman, Sam Baker.

I first traveled to Britain in early 1986 to consult with British universities about technology transfer which was one of my fields of expertise as a university administrator. The visit was so enjoyable that I returned with my family for three weeks in 1987, played golf there in each of the next three years and ultimately started H&B in 1991 in part to give me the excuse to return year after year. And that I have, spending at least a week every year hence except for the two COVID years. Some years I have spent so much time in GB&I that I have played more rounds of golf there than on my home course in Cincinnati.

Perhaps the biggest challenge in traveling around Britain was learning the language. That’s right. I had to learn the language. I had to learn that an elevator was a lift. That Brits don’t go on vacation, they go on holiday. They don’t wear custom-made jackets, they’re bespoke. They don’t call you on the telephone, they ring you. That ground beef is mince. That an off ramp is a slip road. And so forth. You get the picture.

But there is one British phrase for which we really don’t have a translation. It’s “country house hotel”. These are smallish accommodations which were created by converting a former mansion or manor often originally constructed with the proceeds of centuries of the wealthy of empires. They can be found throughout the countryside in GB&I and range in quality from Fawlty Towers to uniquely elegant facilities.

Over the years, we at H&B have vetted countless country house hotels which are situated within an easy drive of golf courses we recommend. We have struck many of the former from our list of approved accommodations after Liz and I spent an awful night or two there. And we have introduced hundreds of our members to some of the best in the latter category.

Among our personal favorites is Greywalls, the former home of Colonel Weaver. Located immediately adjacent to Muirfield, the back garden overlooks the ninth green and tenth tee of the golf course. The walls of the house are filled with memorabilia from famous golfers who’ve stayed at Greywalls during an Open Championship. For us mere mortals who will never stay there during an Open, Greywalls is a convenient base for playing the great courses of Scotland’s Golf Coast. The Gullane and Renaissance golf clubs are five minutes away. North Berwick is only about 15.

For many years, Greywalls like most country house hotels did not have telephones or televisions in the rooms. Some guests found that charming, others not so much. The net result was that a wake-up call required a member of the hotel staff to knock loudly on your door at the designated time.

This custom led to an incident which occurred to a member of the very first group I ever booked in Greywalls under the H&B banner. It was 12 men from Coldstream Country Club in Cincinnati organized by George Blake, the editor of the Cincinnati Enquirer. I traveled with the group because I was keen to see how my new product worked. The second night of our stay, I agreed to join one of the younger guys in the group for some after dinner pubbing in Edinburgh, little more than 30 minutes away by taxi. (After all, I needed to vet pubs as much as any other good life options.)

When we returned in the wee hours, Greywalls was quiet with the public rooms deserted except for a young woman who was working the night desk. As we started up the stairs, she said to my companion:

“Sir, would you care to be knocked up in the morning?”

He paused and looked at me, thoroughly confused. Through a bit of laughter, I shared the wisdom of George Bernard Shaw:

“The British and the Americans are two nations separated by a common language.”