It arrives mid-July, this longing to fly from Boston to the airport in Amsterdam (home of the greatest Starbucks evah!) then connect on a short flight to Edinburgh or Glasgow or Manchester.

The longing comes because for more than one-quarter of my life, that is how I spent the middle part of July. I miss it terribly but do not bemoan that it’s gone; rather, I cherish that I was blessed with 17 straight visits to this grandest of all sporting events.

Approximately eight hours of flying, another four or five hours of waiting for planes and passport-processing sounds painful. On the contrary, I’d have gone through much more for what was at the other end – links, wind, heather, gorse, bacon baps, pints, pigeons cooing at 4 a.m., spikes on cobblestone streets at 10 p.m., pot bunkers, the majesty of the yellow scoreboard at the 18th hole that is vision unmatched in golf, and always – and I mean, always – that airport attendant who would ask, “Are you here for the golf?”

Hell, yes. And I loved every minute of it. So much so that I can recall hundreds of details and rank my favorite stops with conviction. The memories barely scratch the surface. The list is not wrong. It is entirely personal. There are no bad Open Championship venues; but some are better than the other.

1 – St. Andrews

Why the aura? If you’ve been, you know. If you haven’t, fix that.

Lasting memory, 2005: All golf is personal, so being there when Brad Faxon shot 64-69 and got through Final Qualifying at Lundin Links is something I will cherish forever. Faxon was treated like Bobby Jones by club members who toasted his willingness to fly over to take the test and the club captain called him “a sportsman” and “true competitor.” Pints were raised, the evening sun started to sink, and a club member walked by, having brought his son to meet Faxon. “We’re proud of you,” said the Scotsman.

2 – Muirfield

Why embrace it? North Berwick is next door. So is Gullane, Nos. 1, 2, and 3. And Dunbar is a half-hour ride, 20 minutes if Doug Ferguson has the wheel.

Lasting memory, 2002: Played links for the first time at Gullane and none other than Dave Anderson, a Pulitzer Prize winner who was saturated in dignity and grace, was in my group.

3 – Royal Liverpool

Why it’s special: Great town, great course, and Opens there were won by Woods and McIlroy.

Lasting memory, 2006: Seve’s last Open, he was 49 and playing for the first time in five years. His practice round was painful, and I choked back emotions. Bernhard Langer, who finished just ahead of the Spaniard, was poignant, brilliant, and overflowing with respect when asked about the icon. Do people know how great Seve was? “They should,” said Langer.

4 – Royal Birkdale

Why it left my inspired: Because Hillside is next door and features nine inward holes that leave you breathless.

Lasting memory, 2008: Sideways rain, 30 mile-per-hour winds, raw cold. That’s what the morning wave got in Round 1 and oh, the rage. Jerry Kelly shot 83 and seethed. Pat Perez after his 82: “I don’t see it as golf. They do over here, but I don’t.” But from Padraig Harrington, who played right behind them and shot 74: “I enjoyed the battle today. You look at 40 percent of the field that really aren’t prepared to play in weather like that. So, yes, it does give you a big advantage.” Kelly and Perez left after 36; Harrington went on to win a second straight Claret Jug.

5 – Turnberry

Why so good? Stunning vistas, unforgettable par 3s. Oh, and a must-play Girvan Golf Course down the road and if Scotsman Lawence Donegan accompanies you, even better.

Lasting memory, 2009: Usual raucousness on Saturday night in the Golfweek house, too many cantankerous voices opining how Sunday will unfold and who should write what. “Listen,” bellowed Jeff Rude. “If Tom Watson does win, we all write Tom Watson.” He didn’t, of course, and I think we all still wrote Tom Watson.

6 – Royal Lytham and St. Annes

What stands out: Love the seaside town. Just might have the greatest collection of Open champs in the rota, but man, those bunkers.

Lasting memory, 2001: David Duval’s speech after receiving the Claret Jug. Defined class.

7 – Royal Troon

Why is it unforgettable? Smack in the middle of town, there are public courses where a starter in 2004 once told me at a few minutes past 7 p.m. that he could not collect my green fees. I pleaded with him to push the clock back slightly. “You don’t understand, Laddie,” he said. “The shop is closed. I am leaving and cannot accept your money. But you are free to play. Enjoy a game.” Oh, how I did.

Lasting memory, 2016: Classic head-to-head shootout, one that could fairly be compared to Nicklaus-Watson ’77. Phil Mickelson opens with 63, Henrik Stenson closes with 63. The Swede edges Lefty, -20 to -17, and for perspective, consider that those who finished third (J.B. Holmes) and fourth (Steve Stricker) were a combined -11, nine shots behind the winner. Simply stunning golf.

8 – Carnoustie

Why down here? Maybe the toughest links of all, had a great finish in ’07, loved the winner, Padraig Harrington, and discovered a joyous Andres Romero. But just a cold town, tough to embrace.

Lasting memory, 2007: Walking from press center well after midnight, bumped into Dr. Bob Rotella, who was returning from the Harrington victory party.

9 – Royal St. George’s

What is the rub: Big, brawny, and bold, it is my least favorite in The Open rota – which is sort of like being the ninth wealthiest person in the world. It’s still rich.

Lasting memory, 2003: Delightful rental property in Deal where the landlord regales us with area tips, then emphatically suggests we take time one day to ferry over to France and have lunch in Calais. Sounded good, but we chose instead to play links up the street at Royal Cinques Port Golf Club where we purchased the knee-high socks that had to be worn with shorts.

10 – Royal Portrush

Why 10th? Never been there. Would not be fair to put it anywhere but here in my ranking.

Lasting memory: None. But my guess is, it will move to top four when I do visit.