THE most northerly championship course in the world still takes some determination to reach – after all, it is within an hour or so of John O’Groats on Scotland’s north-east tip – so imagine how remote it was in years gone by. Yet true golfers have always come here – drawn by its reputation and then seduced by its unique charms.

No championship links is more fun to play than Royal Dornoch, with its raised, upturned saucer greens creating approach shots of head-scratching complexity. Make it the centrepiece of your next golfing trip. You will not regret it.

WHEN I first made it to Dornoch seven years ago I saw it as an outpost I was unlikely to return to in the near future. At over 400 miles away, it is not exactly the kind of place you head off to on a whim.

Somehow, I have made it back almost every year since, most recently last May. I always worry that the next time will not be as special, or that I have built it up too much, or the atmosphere will not be the same. I can only say that so far it has never disappointed.

There are harder, longer, more spectacular, better bunkered courses I can think of, yes, but I can honestly say I have never played anywhere that has made me more happy, from one end of the round to the other, just to be on a golf course.

The town itself is like a miniature version of St Andrews; it lives, breathes, eats and sleeps golf. It’s my kind of place.

The great sense about the town is that although the course is a Royal by name, and one of the finest in the world, attracting visitors from near and far, it belongs to the people, to the town.

Everyone plays the game, and everyone treasures the links. As for the course itself, it is playful, ever-changing, capricious, challenging and utterly beguiling.

Although the 2nd is one of the most famous short holes in the world – the locals say the toughest shot on the course is your second here when you have missed the plateau green that falls away precipitously on the left, right and through the back – to me the moment when Dornoch really starts to weave its magic is as you arrive on the 3rd tee.

Below is a links paradise – those yellow Dornoch flags fluttering away in the distance, the beach beyond them, the Dornoch Firth next and finally the Black Isle on the other side of the water. On the hillside to your left, banks of gorse, in full yellow bloom if you are here at the very best time of year to visit, namely May and June.

I also happen to think the 3rd is among Dornoch’s very best holes. The fairway slopes from left to right, taking anything leaking that way towards three bunkers that wait silently, their mouths wide open, for their prey to come to them. 

Aiming left would seem the obvious solution, apart from that involves flirting with a patch of gorse so vast there is simply no possible escape. At 350 yards with an elevated tee and a huge fairway to aim at, the 5th appears a giveaway. 

So why is it so often the case here that one minute you are on short grass with a wedge in your hand and the next facing a tricky putt to save bogey? 

The answer lies in the plateau green and the day’s pin position – the fairway is wide for a reason, namely there is generally a better side of it to be on depending on where the hole is cut that day. And should you miss the green, you will be doing pretty well to find – and hold – it with your third.

Then comes the next of Dornoch’s sensational collection of short holes, Whinny Brae, which doesn’t sound like it’s easy, and it isn’t. Here the green is a shelf, falling away violently to the right, with three tiny pot bunkers between the left edge and the eponymous gorse.

Believe it or not, finding sand is something of a result, because if you are playing your second shot from the right, you will do very well not to run up five – or worse.

It would be easy to go through the whole of the course in this fashion, but it is unnecessary.

It’s quite possible to score well at Dornoch as long as the wind is not blowing too strongly, but you can also ruin your card in the blink of an eye, often by failing to spot a run-off that leaves you with a chip that is never impossible, but often leaves a tiny margin of error between the ball coming back to your feet and running off the other side of the firm, slick greens.

Just in case you were thinking Dornoch was too good to be true, it’s true that 16, climbing markedly uphill, lacks the subtlety of almost every other hole. But beyond that, I think it is hard to find fault.

There are locals who have played here several times a week for decades, and yet still find something new to discover about this course every time they set out.

I may never catch them up, but I hope to continue to find a way to make my annual pilgrimage north and fall in love all over again. May it never disappoint.