Amid a fortress of steel and scrutiny, President Donald Trump touched down in Scotland for a private visit, kicking things off with a round of golf at his own Trump Turnberry resort in South Ayrshire.
From his arrival at Prestwick Airport on Friday evening to teeing off at Turnberry by mid-morning the next day, this trip blends personal leisure with high-stakes diplomacy, including meetings with UK and Scottish leaders, a new golf course opening, and a backdrop of protests and security concerns, BBC reported.
Landing just before 8:30 p.m. at Prestwick, Trump was met by Scottish Secretary Ian Murray and U.S. Ambassador Warren Stephens, along with curious crowds of journalists, photographers, and plane enthusiasts eager to catch a glimpse of Air Force One.
After a brief chat with the press—where he quipped, "great to be in Scotland"—Trump didn’t shy away from policy jabs, urging reporters to "get your act together" on migration issues and pushing back against wind farms with a pointed "stop the windmills."
Escorted by a motorcade of over two dozen vehicles to Turnberry, the surrounding area was transformed into a near-military zone with road closures, security checkpoints outside the hotel, and a massive fence encircling the course.
Police and military sweeps ensured no surprises, though a few early-bird golfers still managed to play the Ailsa course from 7:30 a.m., proving that even presidential visits can’t fully halt the Scottish passion for the game.
By 10:00 a.m., Trump hit the fairways alongside his son Eric, Ambassador Stephens, and Stephens’ son, trailed by an entourage of 15 golf buggies—quite the presidential posse for a round that can cost up to £1,000 during peak season.
No protesters disrupted the serene Turnberry greens, and Trump even waved to photographers perched on a beach dune as he approached the fourth tee, showing a rare moment of casual charm amid the tension.
With Donald Trump Jr. also joining for the weekend, as confirmed by the White House, the family affair on the links passed without a hitch, a stark contrast to the storm brewing elsewhere in Scotland.
While Turnberry remained calm, hundreds of demonstrators took to the streets of Aberdeen and Edinburgh, voicing frustration over Trump’s policies on climate change and the Israel-Gaza conflict, with many wielding signs echoing a sharp expletive slogan from years past.
Anita Bhadani of the Stop Trump Coalition in Edinburgh called it a "carnival of resistance," celebrating the turnout of various campaign groups at rallies like the one outside the U.S. Consulate General’s office. Well, isn’t it nice to see such festive opposition, though one wonders if the energy might be better spent on dialogue than carnivals.
In Aberdeen, protester Nicola Seal lamented, "We shouldn't be hosting him," citing the hefty taxpayer costs and strain on police resources—a fair point when security operations stretch public budgets thinner than a golf club grip.
Looking ahead, Trump’s schedule includes talks with UK Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer and Scotland’s First Minister John Swinney on Monday, where Swinney plans to “speak out for Scotland” on trade and international concerns like the crisis in Gaza, while urging protesters to keep actions lawful.
Trump will also open a second 18-hole course at his Aberdeenshire estate, alongside a £180,000 public funding boost for the 2025 Nexo Championship at Trump International Golf Links, a move Swinney praised for enhancing the region’s golfing prestige—though Scottish Greens co-leader Patrick Harvie likened it to “handing pocket money to the school bully.” A witty jab, but perhaps overlooking the economic swing such events bring to local communities.
As Trump prepares to meet European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen on Sunday to discuss transatlantic trade and heads back to Washington on Tuesday, his upcoming state visit in September—hosted by King Charles at Windsor Castle—marks a rare second-term honor, signaling the enduring, if complicated, transatlantic bond. Meanwhile, local voices like the Maidens Bowling Club in Girvan offer a mixed take, challenging Trump to a friendly game of boules while suggesting he foot the security bill—now there’s a neighborly way to balance critique with a handshake.
