A lifetime of technical writing, an unhealthy interest in speed and a passion for golf have finally coalesced. Robin Down has found his real voice in the pages of his Golf in the Wild books, journeys into his past played out across golf courses in wild places to the distant sound of racing engines. Raised, or more accurately, forced like rhubarb, under the industrial smog of Manchester by a domineering mother, it is no wonder he seeks solace in wild places — from the empty high ground of Northumberland to the jagged edge of Scotland's northwest coast and Sutherland's most northerly shores.
What inspired you to write about golf?
There is no quick and easy answer to this, some might say it was a series of (un)fortunate events. I spent 40+ years in the IT industry writing about dry things for which I had a decreasing enthusiasm. Retirement opened a door and gave me the time and space to write about my real passions.
I have a longstanding relationship with the northwest of Scotland which pre-dated golf, so it came as a surprising delight to realise that this coast provided the basis for a remarkable golfing pilgrimage. The east coast may be the home of golf, but there was much more fun to be had along these lesser known, lesser populated shores.
Starting the journey at Allendale, where I have been the Hon. Treasurer for over 20 years gave me an opportunity to put this modest, beautiful nine-holer on the map — now known as the home of Golf in the Wild. As anyone who has read the book will know, golf is a small part of the journey and has been described as “a cross between Bernard Darwin, Kate Atkinson and Jeremy Clarkson if such a thing can be imagined”. I had a lot to get off my chest. Part travelogue, part history lesson, part memoir, it takes the reader to unexpected places.
What do you like most about the writing process?
Not much; it reminds me of work. Despite this lack of enthusiasm, I sit in front of the keyboard with no clear idea of form or content and yet the words flow. Therein lies the surprise and the enjoyment. Unlike the spoken word, writing gives time for consideration, review, and redrafting. I do not think well on my feet as various podcasts have demonstrated. As in life, it is the words I should, or should not have said, that I agonise over the most.
Whose writing have you learned from the most?
I must give Andrew Greig his due, it was his Preferred Lies that was a key inspiration for Golf in the Wild. As it says in the introduction to my first book, “he demonstrates, in pitch perfect prose, how writing about golf is much enhanced by digression”.
Over and above that, I would guess that I have been heavily influenced by a longstanding love of the Irish short story — writers like Seán Ó Faoláin, Frank O’Connor, Edna O’Brien and Desmond Hogan. Subconsciously or otherwise, what we read, influences what we write.
You have written that the purpose of Golf in the Wild was “to explore the possibilities for playing this most frustrating of games in wild, beautiful and unexpected places”. How has travelling for golf influenced your writing?
It is an essential component. Only by travel do we have any real chance of writing with authority and discovering the new and unexpected. There is a story in the second book, Golf in the Wild – Going Home, about a young lad drowned off the north coast of Scotland, near Tongue. I was aware of his beautiful headstone at Melness from many years holidaying at this wild, remote place. Without travel I would never have discovered his second memorial at the bay where he was washed into the sea — “A young man who will always be remembered. Going Home”.
Do you have a favourite course from Golf in the Wild or Golf in the Wild – Going Home?
In the first book, apart from Allendale, without question Traigh near Arisaig on the Road to the Isles. A beautifully maintained nine-hole course with views to Eigg, Muck and Rum. On a clear sunlit day, this is paradise.
In the second book, Covesea encapsulates everything I look for in golf. Not overly long, generally quiet, unintimidating, well maintained, every hole is memorable and different. Privately owned by a supremely qualified greenkeeper, Andy Burnett has carved out a very special course on land God surely intended for such a purpose.
Can you recommend an article or book you are reading that others might enjoy?
This may seem an odd choice, but I highly recommend J D Riso’s Wish I Were Here. There is a story to this — one of my first actions on retirement was to join WordPress and use it as a vehicle for short story writing, many of which ended up in Golf in the Wild. I started communicating with Julie almost from the outset, so we have ‘known’ each other for over 12 years. We have been on a similar journey and Wish I Were Here is her recently published memoir. Her writing is edgy, truthful, and direct — I am envious of her gift. And therein lies the depressing truth — out there in the ether, there is some remarkable talent which may never achieve the recognition it deserves. Read her memoir and you will understand what I mean.
Returning to golf, just read anything by Richard Pennell — a talent which I have every confidence will not go unnoticed.
Which three courses would you most like to play for the first time?
By this, I am assuming you mean winding back time and discovering their delights anew — in that case, Allendale, Traigh and Covesea (followed closely by Cullen).
Of those I have yet to play, the one that stands out is St Enodoc, if only to walk in the shadow of John Betjeman. And then there is Lofoten Links — I am destined to return.
Who would be in your dream four-ball — current or past players? Where would you play?
I have answered this on several occasions, and I see no reason to change: Barack Obama, Alice Cooper and Bob Dylan. Given the company, I would be ambitious and take them back to Lofoten Links. I would avoid professional golfers as I would find their game intimidating and, one suspects, their conversation narrow.
What question would you like to ask other golf writers?
Like me, are you driven crazy by: the need to market and self-promote; to deal with bookshops and online retailers; finding a voice on social media — ultimately the need to be seen and heard, when all one really wants to do, is travel and write the next book?