A harrowing trip home from Turnberry
REYKJAVIK, Iceland -- Well, I'm in Iceland, which beats the alternative: dead.
Don't know how your Monday went, but mine was fairly typical. I got hopelessly lost near a cow pasture in Scotland while driving from Ayr to the Glasgow airport; I forgot to drive on the left side of the road only twice; I sat behind Tom Watson on a flight to London, and even though I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, I couldn't help but hear him tell a friend that he thought he had hit a perfect 8-iron into ...
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